#if i fucked anything up it's cuz this is longer than i realized it would be and im tired

[citrine-elephant]

thinkin about what woulda happened to leon if simmons did manage to capture him....

(lore ramble + whump idea ramble)

so... correct me if i'm wrong, but...

simmons wanted to pin everything on leon and helena, but probably leon specifically. because of benford wanting to expose raccoon, and because of leon both witnessing raccoon, and forced into servitude after his survival.

leon probably could have cleared his name with enough of a fight, i'd imagine. hunnigan would find something. ada would've dropped off intel that she could.

so wiping out tall oaks was the cherry on top -> to silence the "final" witness and potential whistleblower (assuming there's no one else who's as high of a threat to simmons)

... not to mention who leon's got a crush on...

was helena just a means to an end, then...? simmons was a sadistic fuck and would probably torture people for fun, but if she had any more significance to him, then, i missed it-

simmons was willing to kill a friend of 30 years to protect The Family and whatever the hell they had going on trying to control the world. clearly, peak mental stability.

but as sadistic as simmons was. he wouldn't have been satisfied pinning everything on leon (and helena) and having him rot in a cell, right? prison's too good.

who knows what he'd have done with helena. use her to continue torturing leon? probably.

simmons would've blacksited him probably. dead to the world. no one to save him.

shove it in real deep about how simmons won and leon lost. how everyone thinks leon's a (dead) terrorist. how everyone thinks he was the one to kill so many people. and maybe how simmons was a grand hero now... and how leon can't do a goddamn thing to fix that.

you think simmons would hunt down everyone? one by one. just to make leon miserable. what do you think he'd do with em? pin crimes on them? kill them? introduce them to his favourite torture doll?

i don't think simmons would even NEED to have a vendetta against leon. c-virus made him lose his mind, but... dude's a fuckin nutjob and probably pops a stiffy when someone marginally looks unhappy.

more lore rambling below! :3c... dear god,

came to me in mental illness (skin picking bcuz anxiety lol)

these ideas clicked far too late, but i haven't consumed ALL resident evil media. so ... gotta be nice to myself. some stuff gets lost in translation, some stuff has weird delivery, some things aren't obvious on a surface, or just below, level. be nice.... aough!

some of the ways the lore is delivered though. infinite darkness? i knew leon wasn't a bootlicker, but the scene with claire at the end felt off and i was so fuckin lost.... until someone else pointed out that he was protecting claire. (i'd like to know if leon saved chip thingie that for later, or anonymously whistleblowed that?)

i like that it's not so heavy-handed, but whew... i don't feel smart!

so leon was forced into his position, right? but it was because of what he witnessed, not that he was simply a survivor? or, well, what he witnessed and how he survived, i guess.

they could've easily shot him in the head, then and there. but, was he kept alive for sherry? or because he managed to survive all that?

was the threat against sherry a bluff?

with leon's nature being one to quite literally throw himself in front of a bullet for some stranger, that could've just been used against him, right?

would they have done anything to sherry? sure, they needed to conduct tests and whatnot, i know that's canon from re6. what would they have done, anyway?

was threatening sherry simply to fuck with leon's head and keep him in line? threatening leon's life would've done jack shit to coerce him. but an innocent kid...

and an innocent kid. was keeping leon alive to keep her in line, too? and to add, they hadn't seen each other for a long ass time, right? like. re6 leon recognized her (i sure as hell wouldn't) but they were kept apart? to... keep each other from rebellion or some shit? control and all that?

god, the amount of psychological torture he had to endure. brainwashing. to an extent, of course. how much of leon's survivors' guilt came from the government coercing him into working for them? how much he blamed himself. how much of that you think was put in his head for him?

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Logan being jealous of Wade while being a throuple

Description: Logan is jealous even though he and Wade agreed to share Y/N

Author’s note: I’ve had a lot of requests about these two together

Requests: Please do more deadpool and wolverine fanfics. Like them together yk what I mean cuz holy damn what Tag Team good.

Logan is a jealous guy. So sharing Y/N with Wade wasn’t so easy at first. 

He truly never saw himself in this situation but she wouldn’t choose and wanted both. 

Greedy, He thought but went along with it nonetheless. 

He held back a growl anytime Wade pulled Y/N in his lap and especially anytime his hand traveled up her thigh.

Logan wanted her to himself and that was the issue.

She had to cuddle with him before Wade and even after that he would glare at Wade as they spooned. 

Together? He was okay with it. Not his favorite thing in the world but better than her just cuddling with Wade 

Wade would provoke his jealousy anytime he got the chance too. 

Wade found it funny that Logan was mad and jealous of him touching THEIR girlfriend.

Wade wasn’t the jealous type and even encouraged them to make out or fuck in front of him. 

He was a freak. 

Y/N hadn’t caught onto Logan’s jealousy at first. 

It was Wade who made it obvious to her after she had convinced them for a threesome 

Though with Wade he didn’t really need much convincing 

Logan was having a hard time and Wade called him out

“Stop being so jealous all the time, Peanut.” 

Y/N finally realized that Logan’s actions were from jealousy.

She hated that he felt like that and wanted him to be comfortable with the situation. 

She cried a lot at night because of it and because she didn’t want to let either of them go. 

She loved them both. 

But her feelings couldn’t be hidden forever and soon enough he found out.

He wasn’t a big fan of her hiding her feelings from him but who was he to say when he kept his from her.

It made him feel a little better when he found out that Wade didn’t know either 

They planned a surprise date for her.

Logan and Wade, together.

They had a good time planning it and Logan didn’t feel jealous anymore.

Even when she found out and kissed Wade before him, he couldn’t help but smile. 

Cuddling without him, it now put a smile on his face. 

Sex? Well just like Wade he likes to watch and even participate. 

Just don’t expect him to do anything with Wade 

On second thought just to make Y/N happy he has kissed Wade. Even made out with him.

It wasn’t as bad as he thought but he would never admit that out loud. 

Wade was a good kisser 

Wade had no issue with kissing Logan and even offered to do more with him

Logan turned that down immediately 

But overall Y/N was happy that Logan was no longer jealous

[angelyuji]

homelander realizing that you could make a great mom to ryan and kidnaps you, but realizes you were partly why ryan is not like him??? yeeah im thinking thoughts.

tw // physical abuse, mental/emotional abuse, implied noncon, homelander being homelander

honestly the ending got pretty sad idk why i think its cuz i feel so bad for ryan becuz he deserves so much better than shitty homelander and i wish his mom didnt die poor baby angel :( anyway....

"what have bullshit are you teaching him." john's face, twisted with wrath, was only a few inches away from you. you try to inch back, but he grabs your face. gripping your jaw with one hand, he forces you to look back at him. "answer the fucking question, (y/n). what poison- what LIES are you teaching my son?" your face hurts and you feel tears well up in your eyes.

"dad, she's not doing-" ryan tries to interject, to stop his father, but john raises a hand at him.

"don't. don't protect her. talk now, (y/n), before i really get angry." his eyes flash red and you feel your heart stop.

you sniffle, "john, i swear i'm not teaching him anything. i don’t know-” before you could finish, john backhands you, sending you to the floor. your vision goes white from the pain and you can’t help the screaming sobs coming out of you. when you look up, you see ryan in tears. you can’t even muster a smile to make him feel better.

“ryan, go to your room.”

“but-”

“NOW.” you hear ryan’s defeated steps go up the stairs. your scalp stings as john grabs a fistful of your hair to pull you up. “my son is the most powerful creation on the planet alongside me. i will not let you turn him into a pathetic, worthless worm like you. understand, (y/n)?”

his face is close to yours. you can feel his fury and you nod, afraid to speak.

"say it. say you understand."

you choke, "i understand... i'm sorry, john." his grip loosens and you collapse to the floor, shaking wth sobs. you hear him huff quietly to himself.

"so fragile and weak, why would you think ryan should be like you and not me, his father?" you look up at him and he stares down at you. you try to speak, but he holds a hand up. "i don't want to hear it." you look down. the room fills with silence, interrupted occasionally with ryan's footsteps from upstairs. "fucking pathetic." you hear him mumble. "go upstairs and collect yourself. i don't want to hear your sniffles when i fuck you tonight." he rolls his eyes and waves you away.

you stumble up the stairs and finally make it to the bedroom, collapsing into the bathroom. you sit in the bathtub, knees against your chest, sobbing.

"y/n?" a small voice comes from in front of the door. you quickly wipe your tears.

you clear your throat, "come in, sweetheart!" you watch as the door is opened, hesitantly. ryan comes in, slowly, and closes the door behind him. he looks at you, eyes filled with guilt. he sits down next to the bathroom. "you're growing up so fast..." you try to smile and brush your hand through his hair.

ryan puts his head down on the edge of the bathtub, "i'm so sorry, (y/n)..." your heart hurts and you cup his face in your hands.

"none of this is your fault, ryan. you did nothing wrong." you watch tears fall faster down his face. you pull him into a hug. the edge of the bathtub was digging into your skin, but you felt ryan relax and you knew you could be in pain for a little while longer.

[mias-back-from-the-dead]

so this was a line in a fanfic I recently read but it has me fuckign crawling up the walls and watching D&W in a new light

it's part of a larger oh/oh moment paragraph rant wade goes on but the line is:

"I would have happily gone on assuming that this Wolverine is canonically a fuck machine who only sleeps with women ever and that I could hit on him to my dick’s content and never have to worry about the possibility of real rejection"

and that last line COMPLETELY reframed half of wade's actions for me in the movie.

Cuz on the surface level there's the hee-hoo deadpool hits on every single hero joke of it all, which is probably all the writers were thinking about when those lines and directions went onto the script. They needed the throughline of wade being seriously still hung up on vanessa for plot reasons but didn't want to give up all the ridiculous flirt jokes.

From a hollywood writer's perspective, the solution is an easy 'Okay, he flirts with dudes ONLY, no prob, there's a Logan shaped comedic 'straight man' for him to do that at for 90+minutes'

But like. There's Implications to that as a Choice, when you characterize a dude that's so rejection avoidant and purpose-seeking that an avengers' dismissal kills all motivation for putting the suit on at all.

Pointing affections at literally any direction other than people who MIGHT take him seriously. Flirt on his favourite heroes, antiheroes, maybe even a TVA employee or two instead. It isn't that he's not ACTUALLY into Colossus's giant metal ass or Logan's oiled up tits, I'm sure they rev the engines like anything else, but I'm super willing to explore the idea that he's way more comfortable in throwing himself in directions where the rejections aren't 'real' to him. If the writers never thought about that implication, I'm going with concept that Wade doesn't even realize he's doing it at all unless he's in a fanfic universe with a decent oh/oh moment.

It makes me wonder what style of bluescreen he'd go through the second Logan yes-and's in a way that might be interpreted as flirting back. It makes me think of the countless number of dudes he's hit on in the comics despite most of his longer-term relationships being with women. Don't get me wrong, I KNOW the Doylist perspective is likely that most writers go down the straight relationships, gay jokes avenue but it's SO much more interesting to play it watsonian here. it's just a really good fanfic direction to lean down, this fucker is made up of exactly 50/50 emotional anguish about rejection and shitpost dick humour and I just wanna read more works where they feed into each other instead of being tackled separately

HHHHHHh I dUNNO IF I KEEP WRITING IM JUST GONNA GO IN CIRCLES JUST GO READ THE FIC ^

[querenciasturniolo]

This is such a random concept but can you write something to do with the triplets finding out you’re a fan of there’s (which is shocking cuz you’re a well known singer) and you guys finally meet up for a car video and Chris, who’s usually really talkative, gets really quiet and nervous and Matt and Nick catch on to why and they end up teasing him…

favorite ⮕ c.s.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: swearing, teasing, she/her pronouns

summary: the triplets invite you to to do a video with them after a viral video at your last concert on tour, and teasing ensues when chris is awfully quiet for once

a/n: this one is a little longer, but only because i am awful at transitions and find way too much detail important. this was SO fun to write, i hope i did it justice 💓

{i am NOT calling fangirls losers, at all. i am a fangirl and a loser, but that doesn’t mean everyone is. i wrote y/n saying she was a loser bc i thought it was funny, carry on}

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

part one || part two

“You have stated multiple times before that you’re a fan of many people, whether they’re artists or creators of some sort. Any you’d like to mention?”

“The Sturniolo triplets, easy. They’re content creators; they make these car videos and they’re absolutely hilarious. I found them on Tiktok about a year ago, and I’ve been watching them ever since.”

A single answer to a question had your fans going absolutely ballistic.

It was your fault, of course, but you didn’t think they would act like this. In every one of your posts, more comments than not were about the triplets. You found it more funny than anything, knowing that your fans were just excited that you enjoyed the same things they did.

At the closing show of your tour, you had just finished your last song, and you looked out at the crowd one last time to realize that this wasn’t going to go away. A single sign in the crowd had you laughing and shaking your head.

DO A VIDEO WITH THE TRIPLETS

You pointed at the sign as you walked back to leave the stage. “The ball is in their court, now.” You said, the crowd going ballistic as you finally stepped off of the stage.

After that, it seemed radio silent for a while, but you had no idea what was going on behind the scenes. It had been only a few weeks since that show, and you were just hanging out at your apartment, one of your best friends sitting across from you on the couch.

“Y/n, have you seen this?”

You looked up from your phone and glanced at her screen, a video of your last concert playing. The sign was shown before it was turned around and the camera was on you. You saw you grin and laugh at the sign and point, saying what you said before. The moment you finished, you heard the fan scream and other screams around her completely fucking with the speaker.

“I mean, I remember that happening, but I haven’t seen the video, why?” You asked, handing her phone back to her. She raised her eyebrows and kept her phone screen facing you.

“It’s viral.”

Your eyes immediately went to the likes, and you were shocked to see there were over four million. “Holy shit.” You mumbled, your phone vibrating in your hand. You looked down, your jaw dropping when you saw the DM before you. “Holy shit!”

nicolassturniolo: hey! would you want to be in a car video??

You stared at the screen, completely speechless as you looked between the DM and your friend. “What the fuck do I say?” You asked, finally opening the message. She laughed from across from you and you couldn’t help but stare at her, completely bewildered.

“Say yes? It’s a pretty simple answer.” She said. You nodded your head and answered Nick quickly, asking him when they wanted to meet up. “How are you fangirling right now?”

You looked up again and frowned. “Because I’m a loser, obviously.” You said, your friend laughing and shaking her head as she dropped back down on her side of the couch.

You and Nick messaged back and forth, you finding out the details of the video and where they wanted to meet up. You decided tonight would be best for both of your schedules, and you were chomping at the bit to get ready and get there. You’d never done anything casual like this, only professional interviews and somewhat press-related conversations. You had no idea what was going to happen in this video, except for the general idea of it being a Q&A between the four of you.

Driving to the meetup spot had your entire body on high alert, excited to meet the triplets, but also terrified to do so. You were a fangirl at heart, but you refused to show it. You pulled into the parking lot, looking around for the van.

The moment you saw it, you took a deep breath and pulled up next to it, frowning and looking around at the desolate parking lot. Before you could even fully get out of the car, Nick was opening the back door of the van and waving at you. You grinned and shut your door, locking your car out of habit and heading towards the van.

“Hey, it’s so nice to finally meet you!” Nick said, stepping out of the van and giving you a hug.

You chuckled and pulled away, shrugging your shoulders. “You too! I’m not gonna lie, I was nervous as hell on the drive over.” You said, following Nick’s lead and climbing into the van after him, awkwardly climbing over him. You looked at Matt and Chris, your smile wide as you nodded in acknowledgement. “Hey.”

“Why were you nervous?” Matt asked, your cheeks heating up as you shrugged your shoulders.

“I’m a big fan, and extremely awkward, if you couldn’t tell.” You said, the three of them laughing and adjusting themselves to face you.

“It’s totally fine, you should have seen Nick before you pulled up.” Chris said, Nick’s jaw dropping to the floor as you looked over at him with a similar expression. The conversation mellowed out shortly after that, your nerves dissipating as you got more comfortable.

“Okay, so here’s our idea.” Nick started, your eyes meeting his immediately. “You hide behind Chris’ seat while we introduce the video, and when we say we have a special guest, you pop up and introduce yourself.” He finished. You nodded your head, fighting your smile as you wedged yourself between Chris’ seat and the seat you were sitting in on the floor.

“Matt, go check the camera.” Nick said. You covered your mouth to avoid laughing at the ensuing argument.

“Nick, why do you never check the fucking camera, this is ridiculous.” Matt grumbled, climbing out of the car to check it. Nick looked down at you, raising his eyebrows and shaking his head. You snorted, and waited patiently for Matt to get back into the car.

“Alright. Today, we’re doing a Q&A, but we have a little surprise for everyone.” Chris said. He adjusted in his seat, you only knowing this because the movement pushed you into the other seat harshly. You couldn’t help but groan at the pressure of the seat against your side, smacking your hand over your mouth as Nick threw his head back and laughed.

“We have a special guest, if you couldn’t tell by Chris breaking her ribs. Come on out, reveal yourself.” Nick said. You shoved yourself out from behind the seat, your hand pressed against your side as the four of you laughed. “So, a video went viral of Y/n at one of her concerts challenging us to get her in a video.”

You scoffed and looked at Nick. “It wasn’t a challenge at all. Someone in the crowd had a sign that said I needed to be in a car video, and all I said was that the ball was in your court.” You defended playfully, Nick holding his hands up in mock defense. “I didn’t realize how insane that interview would go. I said I was a fan, and all of a sudden everyone was tagging me in your posts and telling me I needed to be in a video.” You said, shrugging your shoulders.

“Alright, introduce yourself to the video, and tell them if you have anything coming up, if you want.” You looked at Matt after he spoke, realization dawning on you as you nodded and finally looked at the camera.

“Oh, right. I’m Y/n. I just announced my new single Changes that comes out in a few days, go listen if you want.” You said, looking between the three of them to make sure that was alright. Chris chuckled and nodded, facing the camera and pulling his phone from his pocket.

“So, this Q&A is different for a few reasons. One; we have a special guest, which you already know. And two; we decided to ask her some questions, and she’s going to ask some questions that she has for us. We will be answering some fan questions as well, since we only came up with a handful of questions.” Chris said, Nick gesturing for him to speed up.

The video progressed with the four of you rapid fire asking questions about your careers and other random things, occasionally debating when someone said something the others thought was outrageous.

“How long have you been a fan of ours?” Chris asked. You met his eyes and felt your face heat up before you looked away quickly and shrugged.

“I saw a clip of one of your videos on Tiktok about a year ago, and looked that specific video up. It was the one where Nick’s yelling about a staff, I believe.” You said, Nick sighing and shaking his head.

Chris chuckled and nodded his head. “Nick yelling seems to be a common theme in people looking us up, so that makes sense.”

“When did you become a fan of mine?” You asked, Nick nearly dropping his drink as he put it into the cupholder. You laughed and braced yourself as Nick held up his hands.

“I found your first album by accident a few months after it came out, and I blasted it on repeat for weeks after that. I may have forced Matt and Chris to listen to it, but they fucked with it heavy, no matter what they say.” Matt rolled his eyes with a smile and grabbed his phone, scrolling through the questions.

“It’s not my type of music, but it definitely isn’t bad. The lyrics were definitely my favorite part, you’ve got a way with words.” Chris said, Matt nodding and meeting your eyes as well.

You blushed and smiled awkwardly. “Thank you, that means a lot. I always try to tell a story with my songs, so I’m glad that my lyrics show that.” Jesus, you couldn’t take a compliment to save your life.

A few more questions were asked and answered before Matt spoke up.

“This is a fan question; who’s your celebrity crush?” Matt read, dropping his phone into his lap and looking back at you. You looked up and thought for a moment before shrugging.

“I guess the easy answer is Ryan Gosling, or something, but I’m not exactly sure—oh! I take that back, Harry Styles for sure. I’d love to do a song with him, it’s been one of my dreams since I started making music.” You rambled, the three of them humming and nodding their heads. “What about you guys?”

Matt spoke first, his answer completely outrageous and out there. Nick refused to answer, and that’s when all three of you realized that Chris was silent. You looked at him, his eyes focused on the center console.

“Chris?” You asked. He looked up then, which is when you noticed his pink cheeks.

He shook his head. “I don’t want to answer this question, let's move on.” He said, turning to face forward again. You frowned and looked between Matt and Nick, who were staring at Chris confused.

“Why are you acting so weird—oh.” Nick said, the confusion on his face morphing into a sly smirk. “I see.” He said, looking at Matt. It took Matt a little longer to get there, but soon he was grinning and shoving Chris’ arm.

“Come on, Chris. Just say it.” He teased, your eyebrows furrowed as you looked between all of them.

“I have no idea what the fuck is happening, but alright.” You said, turning your attention to Chris. He shook his head and looked over at Matt.

“I’m not saying it, just move on.” He said, an amused smile on his lips.

“Why? Is it because she’s in the car?” Nick asked. Your face heated up immediately, your eyes meeting Chris’ shocked gaze. Matt smacked his hand over his mouth to cover up the laugh that nearly knocked him forward.

“Nick, cut that out.”

Nick’s laughter rang through the van as he fell backwards in his seat and shook his head, Chris’ embarrassed chuckle pushing past his lips as he looked at you one more time.

“You could have denied it!” Matt finally said, all four of you completely losing it and doubling over. You’d never laughed so hard in your life, and you were glad you agreed to do this.

Chris sat up and wiped at his eyes, the remnants of his laughter still showing on his face as he shook his head. “I could have denied it, but I’m not a liar.” He said, avoiding your eyes completely as he took a sip of his Pepsi. “So yeah, my celebrity crush is Y/n, sue me.”

Your mouth went dry, not expecting him to say it out loud so bluntly.

“Okay! Next question!” Nick said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. You shook your head and smiled as you waited for his question. He dropped his phone in his lap, a mischievous smile on his face as he gestured to you. “Who’s your favorite triplet?”

You groaned and threw your head back, looking forward again to see all three pairs of eyes glued to you intently. You blinked and looked between them, shaking your head when seeing their goofy smiles.

“I plead the fifth, absolutely not.” You said, all of them laughing and shaking their heads.

“Oh, come on! Just say it!” Matt said, resting his head on his hand and widening his eyes at you.

“No feelings will be hurt, just tell us.” Nick said, your eyes meeting his as you shook your head.

“It’s me, guys. It’s official.” Chris said, your head whipping in his direction. Your face felt like it was on fire as the silence continued and he held your gaze. Nick was the first to lose it, grabbing your arm as he dropped forward and laughed uncontrollably.

“What is with you two?! Just deny it or something!” He said, Matt and Chris joining in and covering their faces with their hands. You sighed and shook your head.

“I’m not a liar, either. Let’s move on.” You said, picking up your phone and going through your notes app.

“Favorite song, not just by me, any song in general.” You said, the conversation changing immediately. When everyone was done filming, you said your goodbyes and stepped out of the car. You weren’t expecting them all to jump out of the car as well.

“Do you mind taking a picture with us for our photo dump? It’s totally cool if not.” Nick asked.

“Oh! For sure, could I get a picture for my Instagram too?” They nodded, and you took a few pictures, some were serious and others were ridiculous. You each exchanged numbers, sending over the pictures that were taken on each of your phones. When the pictures were done and the four of you were just laughing at all of the photos, you looked at each of them. “I had a lot of fun! Thank you for having me.” You said, pulling Nick into a hug.

“Oh, of course! You should come hang out with us sometime, whenever you’re free.” He said as he pulled away. You nodded and accepted the hug from Matt, biting the inside of your cheek as your eyes met Chris’ after you pulled away.

He hesitated but shrugged his shoulders and held out his arms. You chuckled and walked towards him, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. Your heart was racing as you pulled away and smiled at him, hoping he didn’t notice the burning in your cheeks.

“Again, it was so nice to meet you. Text me if you ever want to make plans, okay?” You said, the three of them nodding and waving as you got into your car.

The drive back to your apartment was long, your exhaustion finally hitting you as you checked the dash and saw it was three in the morning. God, you were going to be exhausted at your meetings tomorrow. You finally pulled into the parking garage and got out of your car, locking the door as your phone vibrated in your pocket. It wasn’t until you laid in your bed and plugged in your phone that you checked the notification, your heart pounding as you read the text, a shocked laugh leaving your lips.

[planetdream]

STRANGE DREAMS !

CHARACTERS ! incubus/demon!hyunjin, reader

GENRE ! horror, smut [minors dni]

WORDS ! 7.8k [more or less]

SYNOPSIS ! sometimes, you meet a strange man in your dreams. this is one of those times.

THIS FIC CONTAINS ! edible-fueled writing. horror [gore—body horror: descriptions of blood and mutilated bodies. frightening figures and situations. description of drowning. nightmares and sleep paralysis. demons, and thus], references to biblical lore [christianity] and small references to milton's paradise lost [if you squint], and smut [dubcon—sexual manipulation and sex pollen, sorta. d/s dynamics—predator versus prey. possession/corruption. vaginal and anal sex. pussy and face slapping. teasing. fingering. spit. squirting. face fucking. degradation. strength kink sorta. sex with a demon—in demon form. monster cock. lots of cum]

⚠️ if you’re sensitive to gore, be advised before reading. i tried to be tame and brief with descriptions, and although i consider it to be light gore, i understand everyone has their limits. so proceed with caution.

💌 posting this earlier than originally planned cuz why not!! got the idea for this fic a year ago after an edible. it’s very weird n self indulgent but i’m glad i finally finished it !! i hope someone enjoys it <3 i always appreciate feedback !!

You’re certain that it’s the sky you’re gazing into—though, you’re unsure because your vision is unclear, a milky haze clouding your pupils—but the longer you look at it, the more it spins and distorts, bringing on nausea that rises in waves from the pit of your stomach to the top of your head. The nausea brings on a discomfort; dryness in your mouth and a straining in your eyes, and because of that, you’re left with no choice but to close your eyes and let your other senses take over. Darkness surrounds you, and it feels like you have risen into the sky, despite grass being beneath you, and it’s soft, comfortable; almost like you could sink deeper into it before reaching the hard, frigid dirt. You grab the blades of grass with a tight fist, tugging on it, but still unwilling to pull it out as if you would cause harm. Then, the grass all around you becomes apparent—alive—moving against your skin in a response back to you. It tickles all over, building the realization that you lay naked in the grass, though unwilling to get up or cover yourself; lost within the pure contentment of the situation. 

There is a wave that sways over you—hot, heavy, and harsh, yet not too overbearing in its nature. You don’t know why, but there’s a sense of familiarity about when you are. It’s as if you’ve been here before, a distant memory that both chills and warms you. 

Along with the burbling sound of water pouring into itself, the smell of water whisks in the cool breeze—slightly sweet, green and alluring; whistling your name, calling out for you to come over. The whispering is intriguing, full of temptation but slightly melancholic; no words need be said, yet you understand the language of the waters. The whispers are loud, blaring; not in the sense of volume, but by how jarring it is—unlike anything you’ve heard and yet, it’s something you feel so acquainted with, like a long-time friend. The water cries, begging for you to bathe within it or drink from it and promises a sweet taste that could be comparable to honey and lemons. 

When you open your eyes again, everything is clear. The plants around you are breathing, communicating through the whistles of the wind; and just like the water, the plants cry out as well. Though, the cries of the flowers and trees are far different from the cries of the water. The cries of the water nearby sing a great harmony of promise and belief, whereas, the cries of the many trees screech of terror and agitation. They warn of what horrors can be witnessed here, of what great dangers are lurking within them. A sweet song of catastrophe. The flowers, however,—with captivating colors unlike anything you’ve ever seen, yet familiar; like the names of them are on the tip of your tongue, begging to be acknowledged and praised—cry differently. It’s a murmur most comparable to the feeling of silk against your hands, but also the feeling of goosebumps after a close encounter with something you shouldn’t have crossed paths with. A comfortable discomfort. 

You look around, fully taking in the picture of what presents itself around you. There are butterflies varying in size and species—they sing as well, something similar to a war cry; morbid and haunting, though still beautiful and in great faith. Dragonflies buzz around, securing their place and status within the area. So much life here—at peace in this paradise. There’s some kind of haze or mist in the air, silent and still, tranquil. The sun is bright, blazing hot and practically piercing, yet despite the warmth, the air is slightly cool. The sight of your surroundings further cements your previous feelings of familiarity. Yet it also uncovers sheer discomfort. Yes, the area is familiar, but there’s something unsettling and distinctly different about it. A discomfort layering in the air, horribly beautiful and homely, but pandemonium is lurking, lurched and hidden within the shadows of this seeming paradise. 

You roll over in the grass—laying on your stomach and lifting your head to see beyond what you could before. Not too far from your current position is a waterfall, continuing its whispers. The spring below is surrounded by unusual pink flowers and huge rocks covered in thick, green and yellow moss. Before you can process it, you’re on your feet and moving towards the spring. Once there, you kneel, gazing at your reflection in the waters. It’s almost too much to process but it’s you. It is you and yet it’s like the face you wear does not belong to you. Uncanny and off putting. 

Movement. On your left, deep in the periphery of the spring. Your eyes shift, tracking whatever chooses to present itself. A swan. Elegant and pristine. It cranes its neck, beak pointing towards you in acknowledgment. You make full eye contact, and a chill runs up your spine causing your hair to stand on edge. An inflamed feeling of danger sparks within you, and before you have time to fight or run as far away as possible—“There you are!” 

The voice comes from your right, but when you look in that direction, there’s nothing there.  “So this is where you ran off to.”

The physical energy of the presence behind you is familiar, but strikingly overwhelming—it crawls up your skin like sharp nails, giving you goosebumps—you don’t need to turn around to recognize it. It’s Him. You’re unsure of what he is, exactly, but sometimes you meet him in your dreams. Though deep down you know that his existence and connection to you reaches well beyond the odd worlds of your dream realm. When he touches you, your surroundings change. The waterfall that you were once at is yards away, tiny in perspective. Despite having not moved an inch, it seems that every time you blink, you’re further and further into the woods; trees surrounding you and most certain to bury any noises emitted within their leaves.

The rustling of the tree leaves sounds like a screech, almost like sharp nails against a chalkboard—sinking deep and clashing, scraping out the porcelain enamel. The sound alone affects your brain, echoing in your mind, blaring enough to make you hold your hand against your head. The sound stops once he presses his hand against your cheek—so cold it feels like burning fire, almost scalding enough to melt off your skin; but you do not flinch, nor do you back away, frozen in place. The feeling of his skin against yours evokes an emotional aching so deep, you can feel it festering in the pit of your stomach, spreading to your organs and seeping into your veins—and somehow there is comfort in that. 

He’s speaking, and while you’re unable to make out the words he is saying, you can tell that his voice is soft, pillowy like a cloud. Honey-laced words dipping from his tongue as if he’s trying to convince or ask something of you. You avert your gaze, unsure of if you actually want to meet his eyes. 

His presence scares you just as much as it calms you. Intriguing, and homely but also frightening and domineering despite simply just standing there. Something about his demeanor feels off, or distorted, at the very least, as if he’s not actually in front of you. As if he was a result of your imagination instead of directly in your eyes view. He’s real, a hand against your skin, almost close enough for you to feel his breath lightly against your skin; and at the very least, he knows you. You know him, too, you think; of course, you’ve seen him in your dreams, but you’re inclined to believe you know him from somewhere else. 

“Where are we?” You ask him, avoiding eye contact, shaking away from the contact his hand makes with you. Jarringly, it doesn’t feel like you said anything at all. Your mouth was moving and the words presented themselves in your mind and yet you can’t hear a single thing you’re saying. The familiar fire within your throat when you speak is no longer there. 

“The Garden. It’s perfect here, isn’t it?” He gives you a small smile, seemingly understanding your indistinct confusion. Then, as he speaks up again, his voice drips with something resembling woe. “You and I used to live here a long time ago. I visit every so often, dip my legs into that spring back there, and then I reminisce on how pure life was back then before…” 

You think he’s talking again, but once again, you’re unable to hear him. You’re too busy lost in his face. The urge to press your lips against his gets stronger as you’re next to him. Then you realize he’s naked as well, and your entire body gets warmer. There’s a budding ache inside you that’s all too familiar, growing at a rapid pace. It’s almost like your body is on fire as a result of being within his presence. Hormones floating, hair standing on edge, your more sensual and raw instincts ready to unveil and latch onto him at any time. Head hurting the longer you’re in his presence until it all just stops. 

Everything stops. The trees are no longer rustling, birds no longer humming. There’s no splashing of the waterfall nor whistling in the wind. Just pure silence. The silence is uncomfortable, and causes you to stand still in your tracks like a deer, scared that if you make any sudden moves a predator might attack within the blink of an eye; jumping on you and tearing you apart in a bloody mess of flesh and organs flying everywhere, painting the fallen deep green leaves a perfect contrast of crimson. 

“Run,” He says. There’s nothing in his voice; no emotion nor a slight hint at what he’s thinking. But the word echoes in your mind, and sends a chill down your spine, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand on edge in either curiosity or total blood curdling fear. 

“What do you mean?”

“You need to run,” His voice drops lower. “And don’t get caught.”

So you turn your heels and you run, not willing to ask him twice. Unsure of the direction you’re going in, but the further you seem to travel, the more that discomfort begins to settle in the pit of your stomach. You pick up the pace—one foot in front of the other, careful not to trip over yourself—but a small part of you isn’t sure if the danger that you’re sensing is real or just a part of a sick and twisted game. Instead of running away from the source of your terror, it seems as though you’re running towards it, no matter the direction you run. Twigs and leaves snapping and crunching beneath your feet, but it causes you no pain. In fact, the only thing you can feel in the moment is the thumping of your heart and every single milliliter of blood marching through your vessels.

You admittedly don’t make it too far before you’re cowering, ducking against a large tree. Heart racing with such speed that you’re almost positive it would break free of your ribcage, piercing its way out of your chest. The tree, however, as quickly as you found it, is no longer a place of solace, as you hear a long, loud, and deep growl to your left. The deep guttural sound echoing, slicing through the trees like machetes. You’ve got to move, but you fear that if you do, whatever it is that made that sound, might attack, ripping you to shreds before you’ve even got a chance to exhale. There’s a roar once again, this time uncomfortably closer to your hiding place. You stand still, and the surrounding area of the forest is suddenly extremely silent. No rustle of leaves or echoes of birds, but a loud silence accompanied by a buzzing noise; like a horde of flies marching their way towards you. 

“Hyunjin,” You call out. The name slips from your mouth with ease, as if you’ve been calling him by that name all along. In the blink of an eye, just as you exhale his name, your surroundings change; suddenly submerged in water. 

You emerge from the cold water, barely having time to register your surroundings before you’re being forced back into the water; claw-like hands scraping into your scalp, sharp and heavy against your skull. It’s hard to make your way above the water because of the forceful weight and before you know it, attempting to hold your breath is useless due to the water infiltrating your lungs. You’re flailing and thrashing around, arms lifting—hands curling into a claws, attempting to grab onto something, only to slash through the water—and legs kicking mindlessly, trying to escape what is uncertain; heart rate accelerating as panic fully sets in. This seems to go on for nearly fifteen minutes, being edged by death over and over; blacking out then awakening time and time again. Vision blocked by the salty darkness of the water, ensuring to agitate you with fright, unsure of when it’s all going to end.

Abruptly, you’re dragged upwards by your hair, back falling harshly against rock, helping you cough up the water in your throat. It feels like it takes minutes for you to learn how to breathe again, attempting to do that and calm down enough to assess your surroundings. You’re coughing so much you think you might cough up an intestine, throat burning with each assault, chest sinking and expanding and then sinking again. It takes many moments of coming back to yourself that you notice that there is no rough hand against your scalp. Alarmed, moving around frantically, backing up toward the closest stone wall. Scanning the area, there’s no human nor animal, nor creature of any nature in sight. Not even a single insect. Not even Hyunjin.

You lean over, though not too far in case history repeats itself, to peer into the water; there isn’t even a single fish, as far as you can tell, the waters quickly descending into a vast, black pit of the unknown. Overhead, the sky that was once shining brightly now dimming rather quickly, accompanied by dark, angry clouds. The winds pick up, swirling atop of the trees, emitting a drawn out whistle comparable to wind chimes; of which you can surprisingly hear over splashing and sputtering of the nearby waterfall. Large roars of thunder stomping in, but no lightning accompanies it. You begin to curl into yourself, attempting to shield yourself from whatever is out there, nature or otherwise.

You close your eyes for five simple seconds, and when you open them, Hyunjin is right next to you. He doesn’t notice you’re awake at first until you shift, catching his attention. He turns to you and you avert your eyes from him. He’s talking but it’s all inaudible, unimportant. Something about his presence in this moment is unsettling. Slightly off from the initially odd behavior he’d be exhibiting. You just nod to his words. “Found you like this about an hour ago. You shook so hard until you stopped and fell asleep.” 

Hyunjin holds out a hand for you, which you’re hesitant to grab, but the next thing you know, you’re standing slowly; legs shaking as you attempt to regain strength. You hold onto his arm for extra support, slightly struggling in your steps as he leads you, hand in hand, towards a small cave hidden behind the pour of the waterfall. It’s hardly a hike, but Hyunjin makes sure you get to the other size carefully. “The rocks are slippery. You’ve had a few accidents here before.”

A lot of Hyunjin’s words are vague. Referrals to past events involving the two of you, all of which you cannot remember. There’s a feeling that you’ve been here before, but you’re unable to prove it, or make those connections other than your gut feeling and Hyunjin’s comments. 

You’re hesitant to walk into the cave, the inside being pitch black. Hyunjin walks in before you, completely fearless, as if there is no potential danger. At the snap of a finger, there’s suddenly a fire going on within the cave. From you place you can see how the fire illuminates Hyunjin’s figure just a bit, and as you walk closer—finding a bit more comfort now that you can see, and because you know Hyunjin is there waiting for you, willing to guide you into and protect you from the unknown—you admire how the flames of the fire accentuates Hyunjin’s facial features. He was made by God, sculpted from the finest clay and molded into an individual with otherworldly beauty. Hyunjin holds a torch-like stick, fire blazing at the tip of it, used as momentary safety. “I know somewhere we can go.”

He then points into the deep darkness of the cave. You don’t want to go deeper into the cave. Right where you stand is just fine, and most importantly, it’s safe. Hyunjin reads the hesitant look that’s displayed on your face, but he urges you. “You’ve got me, there’s nothing to be afraid of.” 

And his smile, as beautiful and perfect as it is, seemed crooked, faked for just a moment. He holds out his hand, and without even thinking about it, you take his hand in yours as if you had no choice despite the unease boiling inside of you. His smile curves up again and he turns his head, now guiding you down the cold, dark cave. 

The entire time you’re walking, there’s nothing. Hyunjin doesn’t speak and neither do you. The walls on either side all appear the same, dirt colored and oddly smooth, with not even a small crater to make a difference. No matter how long you walk, nor how far, the dark pit continues into nothingness, an upsetting kind of emptiness. Despite Hyunjin being next to you, despite holding his hand, he’s like a stone wall. He makes no effort to speak, nor to even acknowledge you in the slightest despite leading you somewhere, it’s like you’re nothing but a mere bug, nothing to stress about or keep entertained. You feel nothing but loneliness at the pit of your stomach; the only things keeping you company are the thumping of your feet against the ground and the flickering of the flame Hyunjin holds. 

It’s a long time of walking before you realize that this cave is actually a tunnel. The tiny white dot of light grows bigger and bigger with every step taken. It feels like forever until you and Hyunjin reach the end of the tunnel. When you do, you’re happy to see light again. The sky now bright and blue, prohibiting any angry clouds of heavy rain. Air fresh and inviting, free of any worry and apprehension. Whatever doubts or dreadful feelings once felt before are now completely an afterthought. 

“C’mon let’s go.” Hyunjin discards the torch, dragging you with him by your hand, grip tight against you. 

He leads you over to a flower field where flowers ranging in color, size, and species reside. The field is colorful, bright and happy, like a source of glee. Inviting you over by whisper—maybe it’s a honey-filled hum—so sweet and kind. The deeper you walk into the flower field, you notice how enticing the air smells—sweet like a pastry, yet fresh like petrichor. The longer you and Hyunjin walk, hand and hand, the more at ease and loose you feel, almost drunk, mouth welling up with excess saliva. The two of you eventually reach a point to rest, laying on the grass, no words exchanged between you two. Simply just basking in the sun, deeply breathing in the fragrance of the nature that surrounds you. 

There’s a passage of time before you start to feel it; an itch that’s tempting you to scratch; a sudden burst in fire. A fire that begins at the pit of your stomach and continues to your core, flaring; spreading further throughout your body in static-like jolts. Your breaths change from relaxed and soft, quiet, to heavy and noticeable; and suddenly the atmosphere feels hotter, small beads of sweat collecting against your forehead. You shift, rubbing your thighs in effort to satiate your sudden cravings, wanting to grind your hips up in search of friction. Growing more desperate and needy by the second. 

This is when you look towards Hyunjin, rolling onto your stomach, head resting in your hands as you gaze up at his sitting form; and you actually notice him. You notice his nakedness, every single inch of him on display. He’s like a god, with his honey-like skin that glows and glistens in the sunlight. Toned and defined arm and thigh muscles that flex with nearly every movement he makes. He was meant to be admired, made to be worshiped—having men and women alike kneeling at his feet and imploring him to fuck and defile them. If only you knew how much he agrees. These thoughts almost embarrass you, yet they feel so natural. And your eyes drip lower to admire Hyunjin’s more intimate parts. Cock hanging low, thick, and you’re not too sure if he’s hard or not but he’s big. Mouth watering as you admire his dick: the natural curve to it, how there’s three thick, prominent veins that disperse along his shaft (at least from what you can see at this angle) that are pulsing, just begging for your tongue to roll over them. 

You’re pulled away from your fantasy when Hyunjin clears his throat. With an eyebrow raised and a glimmer in his eye, he gives a small smile to you, softly, “You need something from me?”

“Maybe,” You wink at him. You sit up to face him, hand making contact with his knee, fingertips trailing up and down his thigh in a teasing matter. You get a little closer to him, skin against skin, eyes fixated on his cock as your fingertips dance against his inner thigh.

That’s when Hyunjin kisses you, lips soft and plump; and when he presses them against your lips you feel like you're in heaven. At first, your lips barely touch, meeting in small pecks, sweet kisses that eventually deepen into something desperate. The kisses are open mouthed, wet and sloppy, Hyunjin’s tongue makes its way into your mouth naturally, exploring inside of you. The kiss only breaks a few times; when you place your hands flat against Hyunjin’s chest, pushing away slightly just to get air. Each time the kiss breaks, Hyunjin smiles with a small chuckle, licking his lips before leaning in again, forehead pressed to yours. 

You break the kiss once more, now focusing more on Hyunjin’s cock. Spitting onto your hand and wrapping it around his shaft, squeezing lightly. Tight fist working up and down Hyunjin’s length, biting your lip when you feel him twitch within your hand. He bites his lip, holding back a moan. Hyunjin stops you before you get too deep into it, instead choosing to take the lead. 

Hyunjin plants another kiss to your lips before kissing down your neck, trying his best to take his time to really savor you, but he soon grows impatient. Pushing you down flat against the grass. Quick, wet kisses in several places down your body before he plants one last kiss right above where he really wants to be. There, he wastes no time getting to work, tongue slithering out almost snake-like to lick against your cunt. He really takes in the first taste of his meal, wetness sitting against his tongue, practically melting in his mouth, he moans. He dives in once again, lips and tongue against your cunt, licking and sucking and moaning; fully savoring you. 

“Taste so fucking good,” He breathes once to come up for air, not that he actually needs it. Continuing to lap at your cunt, lips kissing and sucking at your clit, moaning into your heat. Hands coming to your thighs to grip, fingernails piercing, spreading you open wider for him. 

You grind against his face, hands instinctively going to his hair, fingers tangling within it and pulling with eagerness. Hyunjin groans into you at the slight sting of you pulling at his hair. Tongue not letting up against your clit, following your cunt with every movement you make, not letting you get a break from the feeling of him against you. His mouth domes around your clit, sucking you in, teeth lightly grazing against your bud, momentarily making your back arch. Mid arch, Hyunjin slips two fingers into you. Slight sting as he stretches you out, long digits buried to the knuckles inside of you upon initial thrust. 

Soon planting open mouthed kisses against your cunt, fingers working their way in and out of you at an obnoxious pace, curling naturally. Between Hyunjin’s tongue and fingers, in combination with his lips planting kisses against your cunt in between sloppy licks, it’s all too overwhelming. Cunt clenching around his fingers, pulling them in to beg for more, which Hyunjin promptly gives. Fingers fucking into you faster, his other palm pressing down directly against your pelvis. 

It’s all too much, but you don’t want it to stop. The feeling of your impending orgasm has you shaking, practically vibrating, unable to brace yourself for it. Tears pooling down the side of your face as you moan out for him. The tips of his fingers repeatedly hit the soft, gushy spot deep inside of you, biting his lip as he watches your face contort. Body stiffening within his hold, unallowed to thrash around, only able to take what he’s giving you. Though unable to completely relax into it, fighting off the feeling of eventual bliss. 

Hyunjin lets out a breathy moan at your defiance. Thumb massaging your clit, slowly but surely dragging you further off the edge. Hyunjin finally gets you to relax into his touch, into the feeling of temptation fully engulfing your soul. That’s when it takes over. Your vision blurs, almost going black, mouth agape as you let out cracked moans. Chest getting hot, tightening as you cum, releasing all stress and tension, absolutely melting into this state that makes you feel like you’re floating. Yet your body is only laid out in the grass, legs spread wide for him, as your cunt spills all over his fingers, wetness squirting all over Hyunjin’s forearm and thighs. Tongue desperately trying to lap up whatever he can as his fingers slip away from your cunt. The palm of his hand coming down against your sore cunt once, making you moan out and close your thighs, back arching, pain stinging in the best possible way that leaves you aching for more. Not fully satisfied. 

Hyunjin is kneeling over you now, a large hand around his cock. Angry red tip all pretty and glossed with precum that dares to fall onto your skin like delicious raindrops. His cock twitches in his hand, blood rushing, pulsing in the veins that decorate his shaft. It all just makes you think about finally having his cock in you. The burning of the stretch, the feel of him reaching places that haven’t been accessed before, not to mention the feeling of his warm cum filling you up, ounce by ounce. 

When Hyunjin pushes into you, you nearly lose your breath, caught in a long inhale. He’s nice enough to push into you slowly, but it’s only because he wants to savor the feeling (though, Hyunjin fully intends to use you however he wants for as long as he pleases). His cock is thick, stretches you beyond anything you’ve experienced before; though instead of being painful, your body is laced, wrapped in pleasure, and the sensation of thrill rushes through your veins. You spread your legs further apart, welcoming more of Hyunijn, hoping that he pushes into you deeper; overcome with desire and want. 

“So fucking wet,” Hyunjin pins his cock deeper into you, pulling out quickly, teasingly. “Need more of me?”

You nod frantically, bottom lip slipping away from the clutches of your teeth. When you look up at Hyunjin, his eyes are fixated on your cunt. Tongue peeking out of his mouth, swirling over his bottom lip, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead and into his eyebrow. He’s concentrated, breathing so heavily that he almost begins emitting an inhumane growl, but he dials it back quickly. Instead of pushing all of his length inside of you, Hyunjin pulls out completely, tapping the head of his dick against your cunt, sliding his cock from left to right against your clit. You watch as he does this, listening to the pornographic sound of your wetness, cunt clenching around nothing, just begging to finally be filled. 

“Please…” You find yourself begging. Eyebrows strung together as you rock your hips up and down, trying to catch Hyunjin’s cock only for him to move away, preventing you from chasing your pleasure. His hand comes down harsh against your cunt in succession, serving as a warning. 

“So cockhungry, can’t you be patient?” Hyunjin continues his tease, repeated light slaps against your cunt with his dick. His cock is replaced by his hand, two fingers dragging down from your clit to your slit, thrusting them into you quickly. Two fingers are replaced by three, and three, by four. He moves quickly, tips of his fingers curled and hitting exactly where you need them. He fucks your moans out of you, reveling in the way that your cries spill out just like the wetness of your cunt, and he’s barely doing anything but fingering you. And you’re this fucked up, melting into his fingers, giving him nearly everything he wants. “Always so pathetic and slutty.”

Agreements slip from your mouth, just in hopes that he’ll give you what you need if you’re good for him. Hyunjin just laughs at you, you’re certainly the cutest plaything he’s had—he knows he’s got to take his time with you. Almost wanting to slip his thumb inside of you as well, Hyunjin decides against it, continuing to fuck you with four of his fingers, still unrelenting in his pace. You, however, are lost for words; taking every ounce of what Hyunjin is giving you. A burning sensation rising in the pit of your stomach, hips rising from the ground, but Hyunjin never stops. Even when you’re leaking all over him, thighs shaking and threatening to close around his arm, he doesn’t stop fucking his fingers into you; not until he’s sure he’s got every ounce from you. Cum dripping down his arm as he takes and takes from you, forcing you to squirt all over him and yourself once again. Sliding his fingers out of you with yet another slap against your cunt.

His hand is around his cock again—wet with your cum, smearing it all over his cock—squeezing at its base as he brings his tip to your entrance. But he teases again, merely slapping his cock against your cunt. You arch into him, grinding your hips against his cock but Hyunjin makes no notice of you and your antics. Eventually getting bored, pulling his cock away from you. 

“Kneel,” He speaks curtly, standing. However, you do not move fast enough for his liking. “Don’t make me have to do it for you.” 

He does anyway. Grabbing you by the hair, dragging you up and forcing you onto your knees, skin grinding into the grass, sure to have bruises on them. Hyunjin’s hand stays in your hair, tugging as his free hand wraps around his cock. He yanks your head to the side, proceeding to slap his cock against your cheek, precum oozing from the tip. 

“Open.” He says, and you promptly follow his instructions. “Looks like I’ve got a smart one.” 

Hyunjin spits into your mouth, globs of saliva coating your tongue. His cock closely follows, dipping the tip in and out of your mouth quickly. He shifts, though, choosing to slide his entire length into your mouth, lips closing around him; but Hyunjin doesn’t allow it. Cock sliding out of your mouth, resulting in Hyunjin slapping you on the cheek with it again; saliva and cum sticking to your cheek. “Keep your mouth open wide.”

You adjust for him, just wanting to be able to take him and satisfy his cravings. He slides his cock back into your mouth, fully, giving minimum time to adjust to neither his speed nor his size. Mouth stretched to capacity, jaws aching and burning but Hyunjin is completely relishing in all the gagging and choking you do. You’re getting dizzier the longer his dick is in your mouth, tip kissing, nearly ramming, the back of your throat due to Hyunjin’s pacing. You feel like you’re on fire but yet you’re still able to relax into it. It isn’t long before you start moaning around his cock, absentmindedly rocking your hips back and forth whenever you taste a hint of the salty sweet substance. Hyunjin then pulls out, saliva spilling all over your chin and connecting in tiny stings to his cock. Smacking your cheek with his cock another three times, erupting in a full belly laugh, smiling at the way you’re just a completed fucked out mess, barely registering a thing he’s doing or saying to you. 

“Look at that,” Hyunjin releases you from his clutches. He pushes you back by your shoulder, making you catch yourself from falling back with the palms of your hands. When you look down, you’re completely soaked, wetness dripping down your thighs and onto the ground, pooling messily onto a leaf, spilling off of its edges and soaking into the dirt beneath it. “Fucking filthy little mess you’ve made. Cunt just begging to be fucked, huh?” 

The question is rhetorical but you still nod; even going as far as to whine a little bit, hips moving seemingly without your control. Hyunjin takes pleasure in this small action, kneeling down to your level. He licks his fingers, noting that he doesn’t need to at all, and swipes them over your clit, one, two times before his ring and middle finger are sliding into your cunt. Fingertips meeting the exact place you need them each time he slides them into you. You’re clenching around his fingers now, and Hyunjin licks his lips, pulling away from you.

“Turn around.” You obey, turning on your hands and knees, swinging your ass in the air. He continues with his teasing, and at this point you’re nearly sobbing, wondering if he’ll ever actually give you what you want. Pathetic chants and whines spilling from your mouth as you push your ass against Hyunjin, unable to control yourself; thinking with your cunt instead of your brain. 

Hyunjin spits down onto you, and you can feel the glob of spit slide down from your asshole to your cunt, tickling its way down your clit. Hyunjin, though, slides the head of his cock from your clit, upwards, collecting his spit and your wetness in the process. He teases the tip at the rim of your tight hole, teasing at it. But when you push your ass towards Hyunjin, he pulls away, tsk-ing in the process. 

“Silly little play thing,” Hyunjin gives a cold, almost threatening laugh. “I think I need to teach you a lesson on patience, hm?” 

The threat has you pleading with him, repeated apologies dancing off your tongue, ultimately not acknowledged. Hyunjin loves to hear the sounds of your begs and pleads, but ultimately, the words you say do not matter to him—it all means nothing. Hyunjin marches at the beat of his own drum, and in situations like this, when he’s got a perfect piece of flesh like you beneath him, everything that he says, goes. And right now, he’s perfectly fine with teasing you over and over and over again. 

Slapping his cock against your cunt once, twice, Hyunjin slightly pushes the head of his cock against the rim of your ass. He continues applying pressure, fixated on stretching out the perfectly puckered hole. You whine at the feeling, slowly inching away from it, but Hyunjin holds your hips still. Pushing and pushing, slowly, until finally he slides the head of his cock into your tight hole. Hyunjin moans out at how your hole tightens around him, welcoming him inside. He does nothing, just stays like that, moaning and ignoring your pleas for him to do something. It’s not until you feel the side of his hand brush up against you cunt that you realize Hyunjin has got a hand around his shaft, getting himself off while the tip of his cock is in your ass and you’ve got nothing to do except for lay there and accept it, with your ass in the air and your face against dirt. 

His moans increase as he fucks his hand around his cock faster; and if it werent for his other hand holding you in place, you’d at least try to fuck back on him through the stretch of the pain. As Hyunjin exhales, letting out a deep groan of a moan, you feel the rush of warm liquid shooting into you. You moan in response as Hyunjin makes a mess of you with his cum, filling you up, trying to keep it all inside until he pulls out and it all, inevitably, leaks out of your hole, pooling around your cunt. 

Hyunjin wastes no time, cock sliding into your cunt with ease due to your wetness and his cum; but the stretch is intense, more than you initially expected. You tighten up a bit, resisting, though you want to relax. You can’t hold your arch perfectly any longer but that’s the least of your worries—the only thing on your mind being cock. Hyunjin slides another inch into you. Maybe it’s because of all the teasing, or the fact that you’ve already cum twice, but he’s not even halfway inside of you and it feels like he’s reached the depths of your soul already. His hand reaches around, fingers coming in contact with your clit in hopes of helping you ease up. 

“Created just for me,” Hyunjin breathes out, voice rough with possession. “Made just for me. Only me.” 

He continues with his ownership of you, voice dipping deeper as his words become mostly obscenities. You don’t hear it. Or perhaps you can’t hear it. Maybe you don’t want to hear the vile things he’s saying. You’re overtaken, caught up by the intense, high pitch ringing that is worming its way through your ear canal, planting and fertilizing clashing waves of static all around your brain. 

His hand wraps around your neck. It feels nothing like the soft, once heavenly hands that had been massaging all over your skin. These hands are rough, calloused and rigid palms that venture into freakishly long, boney fingers; with nails like claws that pierce into the side of your neck right behind your ear. Your eyes remain closed, fearing that if you open them that you’ll see something you shouldn’t, something that your mind would be unable to comprehend visually. A feeling of spiritual discomfort crawls up your back, causing you to arch, shivering at the same moment Hyunjin works his cock deeper into you, stretching you further; mentally and physically—of which he insists on doing, wanting to bend you to his will and break you beyond anything you’ve experienced. 

Hyunjin pulls you back to him, hips unrelenting. Teeth, sharp like razors, piercing down into the flesh of your shoulders; nearly enough for blood to start trickling down your skin, but that does not occur. His teeth, however, do leave indents in your skin; that, if he’s lucky enough, will be permanent. His lips meet your ear next, a brief kiss planted to the lobe before whispering in a rather gruff voice, unlike that of his usual. “Inferior to me. Mine to claim.” 

When he cums there’s an immense amount of it, sticky and warm. Hyunjin makes sure to be fully buried inside of you, cock seemingly swelling in size as he forces you to take all his cum inside. Hyunjin is selfish, not waiting a single moment, and barely pulling out before he begins to thrust back in. Cum coats his cock, almost daring to drip onto the ground in raindrop-like shapes. He refuses to allow that, however, fucking all of his cum back into you. His thighs, which originally felt like the silkiest, softest flesh, now coarse and dry—except for the sticky cum running down them, connecting in slightly thick, white lines against your thighs—and fuzzy; thick. “Mine to possess.”

You slowly come to realize that Hyunjin has taken a different shape completely. No longer possessing the body of a man, he has turned into some kind of beast, something inhuman. He’s grown abnormally in size and you can tell because he’s holding you up as he fucks you, toes barely scraping the dirt. 

And as filthy and as frightening as it is, the line between fear and arousal is a very thin, blurry line. It leads you to come crashing down, partially due to the overstimulation, cunt spasming around Hyunjin’s cock, sucking in all his cum. You’re elated, completely delighted, mind elsewhere as you experience your high with Hyunjin fucking you through it. Hardly registering anything other than the feeling of Hyunjin’s cock stretching you out and the warmth of his cum—a sticky mess that’s leaking out both of your holes and staining your thighs. 

When you come to, you’re laying on Hyunjin’s chest. It’s still daylight out, the sun beaming as bright as ever, nearly blinding when you open your eyes. It takes a few moments to shake away the pure, drowsy euphoria you’re feeling, completely ravished by bliss; almost hypnotized. You prop your head up to look at Hyunjin, and the moment you do, it’s like there are trumpets sounding off all around you. You have a realization—no, a revelation—that things aren’t as they seem as you peer up at the brown-haired man. As queasiness makes a home in the pit of your stomach, all within two mere seconds, the wind picks up; howling in the distance, bustling within the branches of trees. 

“This is a dream, isn’t it?” For what might be the first time, your eyes meet his.

What words can be used to describe what you saw when you looked into the eyes of that thing? Petrifying? Nauseating? Surreal? It makes you want to close your eyes, however, when you do, the images you’ve seen seem as though they’ve been permanently printed against the black of your eyelids. Perhaps you can attempt to run away—and hide, praying to God that you’re not stalked and caught—but your muscles don’t respond to the neurons being sent by your brain. Perhaps you can find a way out of this dream, but your physical body seemingly refuses to acknowledge the call to wake up; only processing the utter fright in the images it created. The only thing you can do is stare into Hyunjin’s eyes, continuing to receive visions of which you hope you’ll be able to forget. 

His irises are a deep pool of black, displaying a particular flavor not only of loneliness but utter wickedness. The longer you stare into Hyunjin’s eyes the longer you are disillusioned, fully snatched away from all delusion of this former fairytale. Vision clouded by a thick, murky fog; fully spotlighting the shocks of visions you see in his eyes. 

A beast, creature unlike anything you’ve ever seen or imagined. The face of a man only oddly elongated with empty eye sockets and horns—covered in blood that only makes a mop of its fine hair—curled up into two spikes atop his head. A smile so wide it’s like it was carved in with a razor blade and charred, blackened and blood stained fangs hanging from its mouth. Its body, with its abnormally long limbs, is completely drenched in blood, dripping in pools all around the entity. Pieces of what you can only assume is a human—or even worse, you—discarded and littered around it without much thought or care. 

Flesh. Human meat. Limbs and bones and the insides—intestines, livers and hearts and muscle—all around you as this vision becomes reality; suddenly finding yourself within one meter of this monstrosity. The pool of blood coming up to your ankles, rising steadily. Pieces and pieces of the now deceased all around you, entirely mangled and minced. The creature holds pieces of meat within its claws, sharp nails piercing into the gray flesh, bits of meat stuck between its teeth as it tears into its victim. 

It is feeding. 

The situation becomes all the more frightening when the creature raises its head towards you. Despite it being eyeless, you know that you’re making eye contact, getting lost within the empty abyss that seems to be staring into the corners of your spirit. It’s wide smile never fading as it lurches, sprinting towards you faster than the blink of an eye. 

The transition from the dream world to the waking world is surreal, almost jarring. Especially since when you awaken, you’re paralyzed, body stiff with static crawling all over your skin. The darkness of your bedroom surrounds you, both familiar and completely unknown. You attempt to move around a little, opening and closing your eyes multiple times, attempting to raise at least a finger; though falling short of progress to escape this feeling, left to stare straight up at your ceiling. 

Then there’s the boom. A loud, static-like noise; deep as if something really heavy had dropped—but you’re unsure if it’s coming from the dark corner on your right or elsewhere within your home. A thing that simultaneously occurred and did not happen. The speed at which fear rises within you is faster than the speed of light. Heart racing as the physical manifestation of dread drops to the bottom of your stomach—fear making its home in the back of your throat, tightening as your swallow, seemingly making it difficult to breathe. It consumes you, a heavy burden, too insufferable to support, unable to put up a fair fight against it. 

Don’t Look. 

Curiosity gets the best of you. You shift your eyes to the right and in the far corner of the bedroom is a space that’s significantly darker than anything else in the room; like a void. Perhaps it’s because the light from your plug-in air freshener doesn’t reach that area of the room. And perhaps you’re tired and still reeling from that strange dream, but you swear you see movement as you glance over. You want to look away, you have to look away, but curiosity sinks its claws into you. Hypnotizing and you're paralyzed with fear of what could happen. Then, the darkness in the corner grows, getting larger as if whatever it is has been expanding, standing up to greet you. 

Then it disperses. Leaving you alone, shaking and sweating in the cold, unwelcoming darkness of your room, finally able to move and process things. 

© PLANETDREAM 2023

[artdcnaldson]

ok ok ok so i have a thought for pats sister au, i mentioned it a while ago cuz someone was talking about something similar

this isnt like that smutty and slutty, but i need them to also just be a little bit happy. and as much as i love love love mean art, i do need him to be a little bit sweet to her now

but im thinking now that he's like fucking her at every chance he gets, that means hes spending a lot of time with her in general. including parties!!!! they start going together instead of just leaving together. not officially or anything because it would undoubtedly get back to pat, so they're just going with a few mutual friends and pretend its a group thing. its also easier for art to pretend like he doesnt just want to be with you and only you. maybe this party is at a sorority instead of a frat, so art lets his guard down a little. there arent as many guys who art knows, meaning even less guys who might happen to know patrick. and hes not too concerned with all the girls considering girl code or whatever.

so he lets himself party more than he usually would, lets himself drink that extra drink (truthfully a few extra) and stand just that bit closer to her (very much closer, practically leaning against her), he even dances with her, something he's never done with a girl. they lean in close when theyre talking, anyone who didnt know them would assume they were a couple, or at least well on their way to becoming one. TIHI!!!

its a pretty rowdy party, art is shocked he thought the frat parties got out of hand but this was wild. before either of them realize it, theyre both wasted, having the time of their lives, but definitely drunk. their friends have started heading home, but they decide to stick around and keep the party going. his arm is around her, hand on her waist slowly but surely wandering down to rest on her ass, accompanied by the occasional squeeze just to make her fidget. hes letting her get close to him. its nothing too suspicious though, no kissing or outright sexual touch, with the right words it could be explained away as friendly, in case patrick should hear about it.

BUT art is drunk, and drunk stanford art is a party boy, i believe this in my heart and core. he is getting reckless, forgetting about patricj and that he's supposed to keep discreet. he is doing shots, hes making her do shots, hes making any- and everyone do shots with him. and im thinking its one of, or both of, 2 things.

hes taking a shot and then spitting into pats sisters mouth

i see this happening like spontaneously, maybe there's only one shot left in the bottle and art has the genius idea that you'll just share it. she doesnt get what he means but he'll just show her. takes the shot, leaves it in this mouth, grabs her jaw and brings her real close to him. she thinks hes going to kiss her, but he pries her mouth open instead, tilts her head back, and spits the shitty liquor right into her mouth. hand tight around her jaw to keep her in place, eyes on hers, just like when he spits in her mouth fr

OR/and later in the evening

2. tequila body shots

this i see happening as just a sudden idea art has. and hes insisting its a great idea, and he'll even let her start so it doesnt seem like hes just trying to get her naked. so he lays on like a sticky, honestly downright nasty, bartop. he takes off his shirt and ugh he just looks so fucking good. pats sister is getting so possessive with all these girls around ogling at her man lol, shes all too eager to mark her territory. so the way weve always done it where i live is tequila poured in the belly button, salt in a line up the chest and lime in their mouth so you have to kiss them to get it. ive learnt from going to international school that thats apparently not universal? let me know about that cuz confusing? how else?

anyway. she takes the shot off of him, taking her time lick up his chest and even longer to get the lime from between his lips. its not like people are really looking at them, but even if they were those two are too drunk to notice or care. when its her turn hes really making a show of it, gets her to take her shirt off, but lets her keep the bra (its practically see-through with all the lace anyway), but he insists that she has to unbutton her jeans because he also wants salt before the shot or whatever. hes making something up, he just wants to see what panties shes wearing and see if he can smell her sweet pussy. he knows she wet, he can tell. hes just as bad as her, if not worse.

then when the party is ending they're definitely going back together, theyre probably too drunk to even try to have sex. just sloppy and stumbling everywhere. they end up passing out in arts bed together, he only just managed to get them both into some of his clothes and decent for bed, boxers for him and just a shirt and panties for her. in the morning they wake up cuddled close. its the first time theyve slept in the same bed, the first time theyve cuddled, its the first time theyve slept in the same room since art first took her virginity. and now they'd spent the night together without having sex at all. it kind of changes things for them... but not too much :)

-🐞

GODDDDD THIS HAS LIVED SOOO RENT FREE. I'm fucking dead it's too beautiful, too perfect. Also body shots are The Same for me as well so ur so valid <3

You're surprised when the invite comes through your phone— when Art asks for you to come with him to a house party hosted by some sorority girl in one of his classes. He heard about it, heard that they can be fun, wants to see you there.

And, god, you pretty yourself up so much for it— a skimpy little tank top that he can see your bra through, a tiny little denim skirt, sweet, sparkly makeup that catches in the fucking strobe lights set up around the living room. You’re nursing a cocktail of pink lemonade and vodka, leaning against his side as he downs another fucking glass of jungle juice. He’s definitely on the wrong side of drunk, or else he wouldn’t be all over you the way he is.

And you’re fucking living for it, the way he keeps one hand slung around your waist, tugs you closer against him so you’re practically one fucking entity. He puts a fucking glowing test tube shot to your lips, eyes lighting up as you eagerly swallow it down. He could spit directly onto your tongue, in front of everyone and you’d fucking let him.

So he does. He downs a tequila shot, grabs your chin and you’re all wide eyed and eager as you look up at him. He spits it into your open mouth and you swallow it down, nose wrinkling at the taste. You like sweet things— fancy champagne, mixed drinks that are mostly juice. But you smile at him once you’ve swallowed down the tequila, giggling and buzzy.

But auuhghghgh body shots :((( he’s such a lecherous little perv, he gets off on the attention from you so bad. Wants everyone to see how bad you want him, how possessive and needy. Sucking the liquor from his naval, tongue flat as you lick up the line of salt you’d carefully tapped up his torso. He watches how your lashes flutter as you lick along his skin, the salt course on your tongue complimenting the sweaty taste of his skin. Maybe you linger there a little longer than what’s comfortable for anyone else watching. You take the lime from his mouth biting down so you can suck the juices from it.

It’s a little clumsy— you’ve never done one before, but you’d practically bouncing on your feet when you ask him to do one from you. He practically drops you on the table, fumbles his way to pulling off your shirt, tosses it somewhere neither of you will ever fucking see again.

He lines up the salt between your tits, in the pretty valley between the pink lace. You squirm when he pours the tequila into your belly button, he watches it slosh and spill as the muscles of your abdomen tremble. You bite your lip as he unbuttons your skirt, tugs it down just until he sees the pretty lacy pink of your panties, a perfect match to your bra.

God, you wanted him to fuck you so bad— you were practically wearing a sign around your neck that said it. He taps out a line of salt, licks from the waistband of your panties up to your naval, and sucks the liquor from it. His tongue laves at you— a long line between your belly button up to the hollow of your throat.

The rest of the party falls away— it’s just you and Art and you’re honestly pretty convinced he’s going to just fuck you on the table— stake his claim, lick into your mouth until all you know is salt and tequila and citrus and spit.

He bites into the lime and you taste the juice as it sprays into his mouth and drips back onto yours.

You hear people, absently, far in the back of your mind. You’re so fucking gone— you’re embarrassing yourselves, both of you. Art tugs his shirt over your head after the mindless, three-second search for your tank top comes back fruitless.

“Wanna go home?” He asks, his breath hot and his words clumsy against the shell of your ear. Home. Yeah, his dorm pretty much is home to you at this point. His hand’s in your back pocket and you’re waving a tipsy goodbye to your friends, clinging onto Art as you start the trek back to the dorms.

He presses you against a tree halfway back, kisses you hot and urgent and needy. Then again in the stairway up to his room— pins you against a set of windows, smiling and laughing against your mouth as some unfortunate soul catches him with his fingers between your thighs.

By the time you get back to his dorm, you’re basically buzzing with need, want, giddiness, affection. Art can’t get hard because he’s so fucked up, ends up giggling about it against your shoulder, mouthing against your salty, sweaty skin with wet, open-mouthed kisses. He collapses into the bed, tugs you against his side and falls asleep with his face buried in your hair and warm, possessive hands on your body.

You’re both asleep in minutes.

[dcxdpdabbles]

I got the Passion For Fashion brainworms, and since you're guilty for it you WILL get my headcannons.

Since Clockwork made them know spanish as if it was their first language, they only talk in spanish with eachother, more often than not completely forgetting that they are talking in SPANISH.

Danny and Dan like bickering and banter but since they were basically eachother once upon a time they know eachother's limits perfectly. That causes them to say a lot of agressive and downright nasty stuff to eachother so it always sounds like they hate eachother and are constantly fighting.

Clockwork gave them the "essentials" for making clothes, so Dan will absolutely just spam Danny's phonenwith pictures and descriptions of a sewing gadget or tool and be like "Danny i need this. Please. I know you keep making stuff don't lie to me. I know you can do it so please just make it. Danny we are too poor to buy this. Danny PLEASE I need it" until Danny accepts making the thing in true Fenton fashion.

Danny and Dan making up names for themselves because no sane parent names both of their twins "Daniel"

"I swear to the Ancients I will NOT hesitate to go Cain Instinct on your ass-"

Making fun of Vlad together. Just. Making fun of him in general.

The pmoment Bruce decides to show some interest in the twins Danny go home running and be like "Dan. Dan I fuckked up. Dan there's another billionaire after us. Dan how do I always fuck this up." and since they're both dumbasses they panic together and the batkids (who are most likely listening in with a bug or smth) are all just laughing at Bruce's sour face.

Dan headcannons cuz i love him:

I think that even if they're identical twins, Dan has longer hair with a dark gray streak (cuz of vlad ofc)

even if he is a fashion maker he probably goes everywhere wearing sweatpants and a hoodie.

Dan forcefully makes Danny do skincare to make his appearance look good but will never even drink a glass of water for his own health.

I love them and spent the entire day without internet so now I'm devoting myself thanks for the content <3<3

I love all of these!! Its beautiful!

Danny and Dan not realizing they slipped into Spanish is such a mood tbh. Sometimes, my coworkers and I do that, and my non Spanish speaking coworker just stares at us until we snap.

Lowkey they dislike each other, but they also love each other, and no one can tell with the insults they threw. Danny and Dan live and breath the "Only I can be mean to my sibling!"

Danny would make Dan anything he asked for if it meant keeping his Obsession healthy. On the one hand, it gives him something to do and, on the other hand, keeps Dan from jumping off the deep end again. He does get annoyed with Dan spamming him at three in the moring for "A machine that could double bedazzled and polish!"

Both kept their names as Danny and Dan, so neither is Daniel. Clockwork did that when he made their files. He knew if he tried to change their names, both would refuse to answer.

They turned Vlad into a verb. Danny trips over air? "You went and Vlad-ed everything bro" Dan refuses to shower cause he has some embroidery to do? "Ugh you Vlad-ed all of my scent receivers" sometimes when the fight is really big Danny will yell "YOUR JUST LIKE YOUR FATHER VLAD!" and Dan will gasp dramatically before bursting into tears. ( Cause he took Vlad ghost that makes him half vlad and Dan has to live with that)

Bruce would never understand why the twins are more freaked out by Brucie Wayne then Batman. His kids think it's hilarious.

Dan and Danny are identical down to the hairstyle in my au, but That will change with time. Dan will grow out his hair to put it in a man bun, while Danny will cut it short. And yes, Dan wears nothing by sweats or PJs. He doesn't care about the clothes after they are finished. He just likes making them.

Dan was a pure ghost for almost ten years before Clockwork messed with his body and threw it back into its teens. He is not used to doing most basic human needs like showering, eating, sleeping, and, of course, drinking water. Danny has to remind him his headache is due to lake of all the things mentioned. That will not stop him from designing a strict beauty regime for Danny, including hourly water intake.

Last little detail, both are terrible at social interactions. Dan beacuse he thinks of himself as a ghost and doesn't like humans so he avoids them if he can and Danny cause he sees everyone as unimportant since he's planning on going home. Neither of them know anything about Batman besides what clockwork told them. As of part 3 they didn't even know he was a vigilante. So this lake of information means they don't know anyhring about the rest of Gotham and that will play a big part in how they react to villains.

Also yes, Dan was being genuinely interested when he flirted with Killer Croc, but that's cause he thought he was a EverBurning. A group of Lizard men in the ghost zone is similar to the FarFrozen society only they live in volcano surrounded by lava.

[collidescopeeyes]

HCs of Aatrox as a weapon and a reader who is his user please 😭🙏

Aatrox with wielder!Reader

- Look there's gotta be a whole character arc here before he's in a state to exist around other people. He's a man trapped inside a sword trying to escape the very nature of his existence by destroying the world and by extension himself, thereby trapping himself in a nightmarish cycle of violence and pain with no respite. Like, all he's done for the last few centuries was possess some poor fool, go on an apocalyptic warpath, get killed, and be stuck back in the suffocating sensory deprivation tank of his sword form until someone new picks him up, rinse repeat.

- You find him in sword form, but much like Kayn and Rhaast he doesn't manage to overcome you–except instead of using him to murder people, you just kinda lug him around and show him all the nice things about living (cuz honestly, leaving him there would be kind of fucked up).

- Being put in forcible time out, he very reluctantly is forced to admit that maybe existence isn't all pain and okay, yeah, maybe there is inherent value in life. The hot springs are nice, he guesses. Human, bring him to the hot springs again.

- He's gonna be a huge bitch for a while let's be real, like full tilt raging complete with threats of grievous bodily harm (and he can be a real bitch when he wants to be, have you heard some of his voice lines??). At the same time, he's terrified you'll leave him so he still tries to go the ‘temptation of power, just give in’ route, and generally emphasizes how powerful he is and how useful he can be.

- Eventually you go from being you, human, to his human. He hasn't had a social interaction that did not end with someone dying in literal centuries, much less a friend. Like he still bitches but instead of threatening you, he starts threatening anything that threatens you, which he defends with the idea that he's the only one worthy of killing you. You learn not to take it personally, your giant sword with a disembodied heart set into the hilt is a tsundere, this is your life now.

- ‘ive only had this human for two months and if anything happens to them I'm killing everyone in this plane of existence and then myself’, but to be fair that last part was his plan to begin with. Anything even begins to threaten you and it's fire and brimstone from him–unfortunately, he can't exactly do much as a sword other than beg you to use him to slaughter anyone who so much as says a harsh word to you.

- The longer you wield him, the more he becomes attuned to you–which is new to him, because Darkin usually don't have a wielder without them becoming a full host for this long, and even then the wielder is usually trying to suppress them. With you, Aatrox gradually gets his senses back–unlike Naafiri and Rhaast, his sword form doesn't come with eyes, so he basically has to magically parasitize your vision and see through your eyes. Gradually this extends to other senses too–hell of a shock to him when he starts to feel your pain. Eventually, he gets his own sense of touch back, which is kinda weird since his body is a sword now, but it's still leagues better than eternal numbness. Even if he's not really sure how to process that he can feel you literally holding his disembodied heart in your hands.

- His grand plan was to accumulate the blood from every rare instance you were forced to use him to defend yourself in order to build himself a new body and then kill you with it. The plan is amended to killing you in your sleep, cuz he likes you, even if he doesn't want to admit it. It takes literally until he's standing over you that he realizes ‘I don't….actually want to do this,’ and he has zero follow up plan or capacity for self reflection so he just stands there like a weirdo. And then you wake up.

- “Are you gonna kill me?” “....no.” “Okay, cool, I'm going back to sleep.”

- You start travelling together like normal people then, except y'know, being in human form is pretty taxing so a decent chunk of the time he just...stays a sword. This is a huge gesture of trust from him, knowing that if you happen to put him down he'll be put back into a prison of his own body, but also you've kinda earned his trust in this matter since you could've left him to suffer at any point before now and didn't. He still acts like it's some sort of honor for you to be wielding him, but you've also earned his respect by this point so the ‘puny human’ talk has pretty much evaporated.

- His protectiveness gets worse once he has a body to act independently with, but not as much as you'd think–he respects your wishes and genuinely doesn't want to upset you, so he won't hurt anyone you don't want him to (...too bad)–though he will intimidate the everliving fuck out of anyone he thinks is a threat to you. He does actually still have a pretty robust sense of right and wrong–it’s just that he didn't give a fuck about it in the face of escaping the torture of his existence. Now you're that escape, and he'll defend you with the same visciousness that he killed literal gods with.

- He does not have any frame of reference for romance. He only sort of remembers being Ascended, and barely if at all being human before that–and in all that time he was a soldier through and through, devoted to his duty above all. He doesn't even know that he's caught feelings. Like he wants to be close to you all the time (and other urges he shall not be examining), but that's normal right?? You've been carrying him around for months now, surely it's because of that. He also hasn't had anyone touch him without also trying to kill him in centuries, forget that he can actually feel it now–surely that's why the slightest touch from you makes his heart skip a beat (you can literally see it, it's right there in the sword). It's normal. He's being super normal. Denial is just a river in Shurima.

- Point being, the man is oblivious, and even if he wasn't, he has no fucking idea what he's doing and he has a boatload of unresolved self-esteem issues. You're gonna have to make the first move and you're gonna have to be very forward and upfront with him. He's gonna freeze, Aatrox.exe is working overtime; internally he goes from ‘tf do you mean I have feelings’ to ‘tf do you mean I have feelings for a human’ to ‘well obviously this is my human, she's special, why wouldn't I have feelings for her’ to ‘me?? Why the fuck does she want me??’ to finally deciding that he would have to be clinically insane to turn you down (putting aside that he thinks there's a very real chance that he is in fact insane, but he's working on that).

- Not that he knows how to be in a relationship. Mutual respect and communication can go a long way to figuring stuff like this out, but it's pretty obvious he's out of his depth–he’s struggling to adjust to existing in general, and he's got centuries of trauma and a barely repressed anger management issue. It helps that he knows you're on his side (and that he's probably already made every threat under the sun when you first met), but the man doesn't exactly have a lot of practice dealing with his frustration in a healthy way. Patience is essential here–he’s trying, and he will get better with time and understanding.

- He's actually super self conscious about his body–in his eyes, it's a twisted, filthy reminder of what he used to be. Without a compatible host, Darkin bodies start to break down without fresh blood to sustain them, and he can't help but compare it to how he used to be before the Void war. His form is stable with you, but he still has a whole lot of negative associations. You've got your work cut out for you if you want to convince him he's not some sort of malformed disgusting beast–he’s very much of the opinion that you're some kind of saint for wanting him despite what he looks like.

- Despite all that, physical closeness is a big thing in his culture, plus he's touch starved and will take any opportunity to have you close. If you're not doing anything he'll literally just pick you up and deposit you on his lap so he can be close to you. If he's in sword form, he'll sulk if you put him down for even a moment. It's funny though, because as much as he passively demands attention like some sort of large spiky cat, he also gets really flustered if you're affectionate with him. He's also a huge tsundere though, so him being flustered mostly involves stammered yelling (he’s actually kind of awkward, when he's not being intimidating–re his joke lines).

- Darkin run hot as a consequence of the hemomancy their bodies are made up of–in particular, the area over his heart is very warm. He doesn't visibly blush per se, but the glow of his heart gets more radiant when he's flustered, and he gets noticably warmer. The dark plated parts of him are hard and bone-like with the slightest bit of give, whereas the red parts feel like normal skin if slightly thicker. He has a habit of only touching you with his unplated left hand–the other one has a lot of jagged edges and he worries he'll accidentally cut you (plus, the plated parts feel less). Since his form is fairly stable with you he can manifest his wings fairly consistently, but he's stuck at a (relatively) meager 9ft tall without absorbing any new bodies. His wings are more batlike than anything, and the webbing is extremely sensitive.

- In Ancient Shuriman custom, marriage is a social arrangement wherein a couple is considered married as soon as they start living together, no ceremony or paperwork required (fun fact: actual ancient egyptian custom!). Most couples have this accompanied with a legalized property agreement, but Aatrox was raised into a warrior caste that doesn't have a concept of private property, and he doesn't currently have much of a use for possessions anyway. This is all to say Aatrox considers you to be married and you have no idea until he offhandedly refers to you as his wife.

- All that being said, he still has an extreme sense of duty to his follow Darkin, being about as close to a leader as they have left after the war and their sealing. He feels an obligation to find a way to alleviate their suffering, either by finding them hosts, undoing their binding into weapons, or finding a way to kill them and have them actually stay dead. It's a grim task and it's pretty important to him to have your support in it, however you want to approach it.

[mewozie]

Hi Mel and friends. Since you brought up my post and video twice in your shitty excuse of a response, I'm here to explain why you infact dont know anything, and that youre only acting big and bad now cuz you realized you cant get out of this anymore. All of this is YOUR FAULT. YOURE the one that made all of this public in the first place, but now that people are criticizing you and calling you out you have the nerve to get mad???

I heard your voice and attitude change when you started talking abt me, Mari, and Luvus videos abt you. You fr only feel confident in what you say when youre shitting on others, but you arent even confident in defending yourself from grooming allegations. Cuz yk you cant defend it. You didnt even bring up the fact that you abused Voided and Clover, but instead wanna shit talk Voided for "shipping ocs". You focused on all our smaller points instead of the big shit youre supposed to be talking abt. Your video was a poor excuse of saving face that I have ever seen. And deleting comments on top of that is fucking nasty.

Anyway, no Mel, your sona is not just a goat and you fucking know it. Stop acting dense and all high and mighty when YOU KNOW what youre doing. Just own up to it and we'll all stfu. Your sona is not just a goat, you are using a CULTURE that you CANT USE because you arent part of it. Youre being disrespectful by drawing that creature from Native American culture, and you have been called out for this before, and you said you would never do it again

Proof of that above. But no!!! You went back on your word and drew it yet again for your SONA. Youre not 12 anymore so now you should know better. Its so obvious you did it to look "big and cool and scawy". People are telling you that this is wrong yet youre continuing it anyway and idk why. Its easier to just stop than to ignore people. Anyway, getting back on track. The skull is not a goat skull, it is a "W" skull

"W" skulls are longer, with big eye sockets, and fangs. Goat skulls have big jaws, smaller eye sockets, and a bigger hole for the nose, as well as the horns are either curled downward, or stick straight up

Proof that you drew a "W" skull, not a goat. The blue is to highlight shapes. Also did the reference you used cuz thats a "W" skull you used, not a goat like you oh so confidently said

More proof. The shapes are similar, as well as the spikes. And again the skulls are the same. "B... but Nisa... you just took one that looked similar to it!!!" Ok. What about this then

I found a picture that looked the exact same as the Aeron one, as well as posed similarly to your sona. I again, highlighted the skulls. The only difference for the bodies is that the "W" is slender on the bottom and wider at the top, while your sona is the opposite, however, the proportions and skulls are the same (edit: I have been made aware that she actually used the picture for inspo, still doesnt make it right, but yea)

Highlighted the skull here since you drew it as a mask, again, not a goat skull. And the proportions are still the same. The fact that you even had the nerve to add it into the video on your lil still is weird as fuck

Thats all I wanted to say abt your awful video since it seems like youre butthurt abt the fact that people are criticizing your art. Youre super childish, and instead of acting superior in your lil rant towards your ex and ex friends you shouldve focused on the fact you groomed Khai and sexually abused Voided and Clover

Grow up

[j0eyj0rdis0n]

HEYYYYY i just wanted to say i love ur work <3 and secondly

i wanted to ask if you’ve seen the a24 movie pearl (2022)? cuz like i had a creepypasta request idea based of a pearl scene😭 it’s where toby gives fem-reader like stockholm syndrome and she becomes really clingy to him. And so one day he tells her that he’s gonna be right back and reader starts overthinking and assuming that he’s leaving her forever. AND THENNN she says the infamous pearl lines “NO! WHY ARE YOU LEAVING ME IF I DIDNT DO ANYTHING WRONG! I DONT UNDERSTAND I THOUGHT YOU LIKED ME!!!!”.

then they have a huge fight to which it turns into reader trying to hurt toby and toby just calming her down in anyway tehe :3

Hey love! I unfortunately haven't seen the movie as I'm not really one for movies at all, but I've certainly seen this clip circling on TikTok. It was super intriguing and it made me want to see it but I just haven't had the chance. For not seeing the movie I hope that this is at least somewhat accurate! Thank you for the ask!

Also I have some works ready for Kinktober! I only picked some of the prompts, I’ll start on day 6 so get ready!!

WHY ARE YOU LEAVING ME?! - "TICCI" TOBY

"Y/N I'll be back s-soon. Ma-asky has been in a s-shit mood 'bout this mission." Toby grumbled as he tied his boots.

"What..?" You looked up at him quickly from the dishes you were washing. "Why are you leaving me...?"

"Y/N, it's j-just for a m-mission." He sighed, realizing that this would be coming the longer he kept you here with him alone. "P-promise it won't be long."

The look of confusion and hurt on your face was evident. He hated it when you got upset like this. How was he supposed to explain any further that it was only a short mission? He felt like he couldn't ever explain anything to you. It was starting to get rather irritating too.

"You don't want to stay with me?" You questioned, your tone slowly growing angry. Your hands letting a plate clatter to the counter.

"Don't st-start with that. I told you! A sh-short mission!" His tone began to match yours, with a rough twang of anger. He tied his boots up with white knuckles before standing up and glaring at you.

"Don't leave me!!" You screamed, not bothering to wipe your wet hands off as you grabbed his wrist. "Why don't you love me?! I haven't done anything wrong!! Why do you keep leaving?!" Your voice grew hoarse as you screamed louder, practically begging for him to stay. "Toby please! Please don't leave!" You tried to pull his hand from the doorknob with tears streaming down your face.

"L-let go Y/N! I have t-to go!" He shouted back, ripping his arm from your grasp and throwing the door open.

"NO! NO! DON'T LEAVE ME!" You cried, watching him walk out in a huff.

You ran after him, kicking up dirt with each long stride. You grabbed onto his shirt, trying to drag him back inside. "Please Toby! Please I need you!"

He shrugged off your advances, continuing down the dirt road. If he wanted you for himself so badly then why was he leaving?! They had more than enough manpower to get missions done without him. You could barely survive without him! How dare he leave you like this! His pace didn't stop you from continuing your chase. Picking up a hatchet leaning against the picket fence you ran with rage in your eyes and anger in your heart.

"You're not leaving!!" You shouted, bringing the hatchet above your head, ready to swing at him.

He turned quickly, dodging your swing and wrestling the hatchet out of your small hands. "What on e-earth do you think y-you're doing?!" He shouted, throwing the hatchet far into the dirt as he got up in your face. "You're going to k-k-kill me for trying ta' leave? What the f-fuck is your problem!?" He took a moment to pause, staring you down with a look that could probably kill. "Get the f-fuck inside. Now."

When you didn't respond to his words, he grabbed your wrist with enough force to shatter it completely, dragging you towards the house. He threw you on the couch, pointing an accusing finger at you as he continued his yelling spree.

"I do all this for y-y-you! Be fuckin' grateful!"

It was only when he saw tears spring to your eyes that he went quiet. Yes he was upset you were making such a big deal out of one short mission, but he wasn't upset enough to make you cry from yelling at you. He let out a defeated sigh, taking a seat next to you on the old couch.

"S-sorry... I shouldn't have y-yelled... You gotta k-know missions aren't optional... I really gotta go Y/N..."

You sat defeated, tears streaming down your face. You hated it when he left, and no amount of reassurance made you feel better. Every time he left, you felt a piece of your heart break.

All you could do was nod, letting him stand without protest. Toby gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead before heading out the door once more.

[onthewaytosomewhere]

ok kiddies covid/med brain is a little bit kicking ur girlie's arse this last week - i crave the day when my brain becomes less foggy - cuz i really thought that i would get so much writing done while i couldn't do anything else (hell i would have settled for reading lolz) - but towards the end i've gotten a few words - it would be better if i could stop starting new things though lolz

thanks so much for the tags today @suseagull04 @sophie1973 @tailsbeth-writes @inell - i'm so excited to check out what ur working on 💚💚

so how about a lil southern philanthropy - cuz i luv them (tho to be honest i can't remember if these words were written in the last week or the one b4 lolz)

Liam quickly plates the food to keep himself busy. Otherwise, he may turn around, kiss Pez and say ‘fuck it’ about eating the food he made to follow him back to bed. He watches Pez grab juice from the refrigerator and glasses from the cupboard. The way his shirt rides up as he stretches for them makes him bite his lip both in a wave of lust and to prevent him from asking Pez if he’ll let Liam drop to his knees right here in the kitchen and blow him, please. Somehow, he makes it through breakfast without embarrassing himself, sitting at the table with Pez, the morning light streaming through the windows and making him look even more beautiful. Liam has thought Pez was imbued with more beauty than should be allowed in one person since he first laid eyes on him. Of course, when they first met, they were both embroiled in some sort of relationship, and he didn’t think much of it besides a passing ‘That man is beautiful.’ They usually went months, if not years, in between happening to be at the same function, until Liam recently moved to New York, that is. Now, it's been so often he’s almost surprised it took this long to end up here. Here. At Pez’s, the morning after a night, he’s not going to soon forget, and well, apparently, if Pez has his way, a morning that might be just as good. He pushes his plate aside, no longer able to eat, and contemplates his next move when Pez leans in. His lips on Liam’s are soft and plush, and when Liam sighs into the kiss, Pez’s tongue seeks entry into his mouth. He lets him in—of course, he lets him in. He’s realizing there are not many things he won’t let Pez do.

tag ur it!! (unless of course ya beat me and i missed it lolz) @adreamareads @anincompletelist @bitbybitwrites @blueeyedgrlwrites @catdadacd

@caterpills @cha-melodius @cricketnationrise @dragonflylady77 @duchessdepolignaca03

@emmalostinwonderland @england-would-fall @everwitch-magiks @firenati0n @firstsprinces

@forever-fixating @getmehighonmagic @henryspearl @heysweetheart-writes @hgejfmw-hgejhsf

@inexplicablymine @jellibuns @jmagnabo92 @judasofsuburbia @kiwiana-writes

@littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @myheartalivewrites @niinzied @piratefalls

@porcelainmortal @priincebutt @softboynick @sparklepocalypse @stellarmeadow

@taste-thewaste @thedramasummer @theprinceandagcd @thesleepyskipper @thighzp

@thinkof-england @tinyarmedtrex @zwiazdziarka @eusuntgratie @bigassbowlingballhead

@typicalopposite (i should have looked at what ur tag was first so now i'm tagging u lolz)

and whoever i might have forgotten in the brain-fog

[mamawasatesttube]

OOF. There are so many good prompts on that list, I could barely decide! But I feel like I gotta go with “They’ll find me, they always do.” Preferably as spoken by Kon?

Kon doesn't know where he is.

Well—okay, he has a vague idea. It's... a box, somewhere underground, designed for holding Kryptonians. Designed for breaking Kryptonians, if he's entirely honest; courtesy of Luthor, of course. The walls are twofold, with all the air pumped out of the gap between the layers so that he can't hear anything from outside, and the strange, uncanny silence alone would be bad enough without the darkness, away from any sun.

The only light is, of course, the fucking kryptonite.

It's getting old, he thinks woozily. How many times is Luthor gonna pull this kinda shit? Does he really think he can break Kon's spirit just with a little (okay, a lottle) physical misery? Does he really think Kon will ever give up any of Kal's secrets just 'cuz of some pain, misery, and humiliation?

Admittedly, having to hand himself over for a bunch of civilian hostages just to get slapped with a kryptonite fucking collar is pretty heavy on the humiliation front, but still. Kon's a goddamn joke. He can take being a laughingstock.

He heaves a sigh, closing his eyes. At least the floor is cold and soothing against his flushed cheeks; the hot flashes are better than the cold sweats, so he's grateful, for the moment. He just has to outlast this, that's all.

At some point, the loudspeaker in the ceiling crackles and jolts him out of his doze. "You look pathetic," Luthor informs him. Kon musters up the energy to raise a middle finger to wherever the infrared cameras in here might be. "Classy as ever, Supernova. You could end this anytime, you know. And frankly, you owe me your existence; you'd think you'd be more grateful than this."

Kon rolls onto his back just to raise a second middle finger to the ceiling, too.

Luthor sighs. "So stubborn. Why do you insist on drawing out your suffering? There is only one way this ends, and we both know that."

"Yeah," Kon mumbles. He's too tired and achy to keep his arms up any longer, so he lets them fall back down to his sides. "There is. They'll find me. They always do."

Judging by the hiss of breath, Luthor doesn't care for that answer. Kon smiles despite the burning under his skin, and closes his eyes again.

Some time passes. Kon drifts vaguely in and out of consciousness, thoughts swimming; when the pain and the nausea grow too overwhelming, he retreats into the part of his mind that never left the tube at Cadmus and lets himself float away from reality.

He dreams about the swimming hole a little ways from the farmhouse. It's in a small copse of trees that stand out on the flat horizon; he took Tim there earlier this summer. They splashed around, swam, and made out sitting on the water's edge; right as they were about to leave, Tim stole Kon's shirt and jumped in wearing it, just to make Kon wear a wet T-shirt the whole walk home, and laughed at his own prank on and off all afternoon.

Kon likes when Tim laughs. The memory makes him smile; he can almost feel the warmth of the sunlight on his back as he reminisces. God, what he'd do for some sunlight right now...

Bang. Bang. Bang.

BOOM.

Light floods into the room, artificial, fluorescent light that does nothing for him. Kon squints vaguely at the silhouettes cast against it, but doesn't bother to lift his head; he'd rather dream of the swimming hole and the cool water lapping at his clammy skin.

"Is that a fucking collar?" Cassie's voice, frigid with rage. Warm hands brush against his throat as she kneels, and the sound of metal snapping reaches him from far, far away. "I'm going to kill Luthor. I'm actually gonna kill—"

"Not if I get there first," Bart says, his voice strangely taut. "Hey, Kon. Wake up!"

Someone else is at his side, too. Red, and black, and white eyes in a dark mask... oh. That's Tim, Kon realizes woozily, as a gloved hand cups his cheek.

"Kon," Tim says. His voice is low and urgent. He's not laughing. The kryptonite is gone, Kon realizes suddenly; there's a metal box next to Tim's knee. Classic Tim, he thinks. Always prepared. "Kon, can you hear me?"

Kon blinks at him. He probably should answer, but... he still feels like he's floating, and none of it can quite reach him. It's fine. It's probably fine.

Tim's lips press together in a thin, tight line. Kon doesn't like that; he shouldn't look so tense and unhappy. He likes when Tim laughs.

"Shit, that bastard really did a number on him," Cassie hisses. "Here, move. I got him."

Tim reluctantly pulls away. Kon whines a little as his hand drops from his cheek; he doesn't want Tim to go. But then Cassie is there, gathering him up into her arms, and Kon sighs, relaxing; she's warm, and he's suddenly acutely aware that he's freezing, and he knows in her arms, he's safe.

"Let's go," Cassie says, standing with Kon in her arms.

"He's shivering. Hold on." Kon watches through weary, half-lidded eyes as Tim fiddles with the clasps of his cape, pulls it off, and... oh. Drapes it over him like a blanket, then bundles him up like a baby, in Cassie's arms.

"If you guys have Kon, I can go murder Luthor real fast," Bart offers.

It's probably a sign that his friends are really, really pissed that no one immediately says no murder, Bart. Kon can't figure out what's going on, but he knows he's safe now. He closes his eyes and sinks into Cassie's arms and figures he'll just have to ask them to fill him in later.

[afurtivecake]

Neil's so funny fr cuz what other character looks at a countdown to their own demise and has the attitude of "I didn't ask for a secretary 🙄" or who isn't fun to torture cuz of his laissez faire attitude to it. nobody doing it like him.

do u have any opinions on neil? or andreil?

yes. because i'm obsessed with those two assholes. next.

sorry, i'm only kidding, of course i will talk about it in detail and at length because i'm incapable of shutting up once you get me going.

wymack (in one of the short stories) says neil is "ragged around the edges and ice all the way through" and i think that describes him perfectly. dude is seriously unhinged and a bit of a sociopath and he doesn't even realize it. he's out there thinking that he has a bit of a temper issue but that's it. and then he'll say things like how he wasn't paying attention to what people were saying cuz he was too busy taking in riko's agonized screams or how he no longer cared what the psychiatrist has to say because he's already served his use in getting andrew clean. and that's all just normal to him. he doesn't really mind using people, he's kind of bloodthirsty, he'll cut people where it hurts (verbally) and he genuinely doesn't feel anything for any of the deaths that happen. none of that is insane or troubling behaviour on its own, but the fact that he doesn't seem to think it's particularly troubling behaviour is what's troubling. when he does care, it's about what other people will think of his reactions. ice all the bloody way through.

sometimes i feel so bad for andrew like, "this??? THIS is what you want???" but alright, to each their own. i love that andrew probably has more natural empathy than neil and that neil probably has more practice at finding empathy and utilizing it than andrew. between them, they might scrounge up enough functional empathy to nearly make up one full normal person. then i remember that i, someone who isn't ever 100% sure i'm showing my empathy correctly and doesn't know what to do when other people react with strong empathy, happen to be friends with a lot of the same sort of people...................so i'd be lying if i said i don't understand why they feel comfortable around each other.

yeah but my main opinion is that i'm pretty happy for them never to say 'i love you' or marry or even acknowledge their relationship openly. they just go home to the same home, do their share of tasks and chores, hang out in each other's company, wait for each other, do things for each other, give each other casual gifts, fuck, wake up next to each other, and if anyone asks them if they're together, they shrug and give the simplest, barest version of the truth: they live together.

personally i find this headcanon nice and reassuring because, if you did not grow up hearing affection and love expressed in words, the words 'i love you' can feel really empty and uncomfortable to receive or use. (a thing i did not realize myself until i had to give a speech at a wedding and choked on using the word 'love'.) to me, it's reassuring that they can just exist together as they are. I don't see it as a sign that they need more healing, necessarily. idk, at some point, how much of your personality is your trauma and how much of it is just you? if you fully heal from everything, would you still be yourself? no bloody clue. but hey, i like that people do head canon them being really soft and gooey and nice. i think it says a lot about who they are as people and i'm glad for that.

[yaknowlikenyah]

how would you go about telling your partner youre into something that youve seen them kinkshaming

cuz like its not a relationship i want to leave nor do i want to keep secrets from them but i also dont want them to a. take it as a joke or b. do that thing where people just stop listening to you and start reacting based off of their bias

thanks big bro 👍

So this is one of those things where the longer you leave it to rot, the more it's going to fester until it becomes a major problem. The last thing you want is to become resentful. Ya know? And the reason that shit happens is because it hurts.

Going into a communication like this there's a couple things you're going to have to keep in mind.

1. Set expectations for reactions.

Set the tone. You don't want them to make fun of you or call you gross or anything, obviously, but you have to communicate what is/isn't expected. Set the discussion up for compassion and make it clear that being teased or ridiculed would make you uncomfortable.

2. State how the thing influences you.

This is the devil. Absolutely the fucking devil, but you have to express what the action in question is doing to you. Yes it hurts you, but "hurt" is abstract and makes it hard for the other person to understand exactly how their actions are influencing you. Does it lower your self esteem? Is what they're doing influencing your thought patterns or making obsessive thoughts worse? Giving you body image issues? If you specify the cause and effect rather than just stating the feeling, communication will be clearer.

3. State a reasonable outcome for resolution

You know the thing and how it hurts you, and now you have to give a suggestion for how you want to fix it. It keeps your S/O (or whoever else) jumping to conclusions on what you want and helps to assuage any rejection sensitive dysphoria or guilt they may have.

So your ending communication will look something like:

"Hey babe, can we talk about something seriously for a second? I want you to hear me out about something that's been making me feel uncomfortable and I'd like if you wouldn't make fun of me for it, but I have that [insert here] kink you've been making fun of. You don't have to like it yourself or do it with me, but I'd appreciate it if you could stop making fun of it around me because it's making me feel gross about kinks I can't control."

The not fun bit of this is that if they react badly, if they make fun of you and double down, you have to think about if you want to be with someone who would make fun of other people like that in the first place and who would double down instead of reacting with compassion. It doesn't have to be a deal breaker, but don't tolerate making yourself more and more palatable just to keep what you think is a good relationship. That's the high speed train to waking up one day and realizing you're miserable trying to be someone else.

[sidthedollface2]

Third Love

Ch: 6 El Cotorro

Pairing: Eddie x Mexican Female Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: Eddie tries to win over your affection and use you in hopes of getting signed to your dads record company. There's just one problem. Your situationship and a heartbreaking past that threatens to expose the darker side of you.

CW: MDNI 18+ Angst, slut shaming, mental illness, Modern au Eddie, fuckboy Eddie. Reader with another man (not cheating). Talks of injury and blood, I gave you a cute lil nickname cuz you're a sweetie. 🍑

"Where is Eddie by the way?"

"Eh, you know him, fuck em and leave em, onto the next."

"She must not have been that easy. Took longer than he said it would."

"Still fucked'em on the first date."

"Just like the rest."

The laughing at your expense forms a knot in your throat, dry and hoarse, unable to be swallowed. How could they just degrade you like that without even knowing who you were. Lumped in the same category as the rest. How could he just leave you here, in his home, without a car to go back. Humiliated at the fact that you had to face his friends, you're sure you looked a mess, like a girl who just slept with the lead singer of a band. Of course they thought you were a groupie, what else would they expect. It was your idea after all, you knew what this was, you knew the type of guy Eddie was. You even saw him with two girls before.

Drops of water dot the pavement as the clouds open up, the sun no longer bright and warm. Clouds gray and heavy with insecurity. You turn on your heel, padding down the driveway, head down in shame. Your shoulders shake like an etch a sketch erasing every kind thing Eddie ever said.

He viewed women like sexual objects not partners and you were just another toy he wanted to play with. planned to sleep with you from the very beginning. The rain beats down harder, now coating your hot cheeks, and bare feet. It's then you realize that it's your own tears creating the rain, your own sobs making your shoulders shake.

You hate the smell of your hair, his shampoo lingers in the stands he delicately washed. Fingers itch to claw at every part of your body that he touched, even if it meant creating new scars. Aggressively you wipe at the mouth he tenderly kissed, salty from your cries cracked and dry from wiping over and over, ridding them of the minty flavor of his lips.

With blurry vision you call the one person who'll answer, through thick and thin, rain or shine, whether you're with him or without. Say jump and he'll say how high. Your first kiss and the person you lost your virginity to, your best friend, Sebastian. He loved you then, through all your firsts, but more than anything he wanted to be all your lasts too.

He wasn't supposed to love you but when highschool ended and you both parted ways he regretted not telling you. Maybe things would be different if he stayed, you'd be his. So when your paths met again he thanked whatever god brought you back to him and swore he'd never leave your side, never let you go even if it killed him. He wanted to see you happy no matter who it was. He'd lost you before and it wasn't going to let it happen again.

Many people thought he was someone new in your life, they didn't know the history you shared. The gradual progression from friends to best friends to more. More in Sebastian's eyes at least.

"Bash, you were right." You choke, voice wobbly with emotion.

"Where are you?"

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

Anger radiates off Sebastian when he picks you up, shaking his head at the choice of clothing you wore and how disheveled you look. He pulls his hoodie off his body, offering it to you as a cover up, leaving him in a wife pleaser. Silent tears stream down your cheeks as you gaze outside your window, heartache leaving a black hole where hope of something more lived.

"I told you Peach. He fucks groupies, you were just gonna be another play thing." Sebastian breaks the silence with truth. His words hurt more than they should, but Eddie's actions hurt more than words.

"He was really sweet and caring, I just thought that maybe it would be different. I would be different." You sniffle, gaining back your voice. "His friends said that It took longer to sleep with me than he thought."

You don't see Sebastian's heart crumble in a million pieces at your confession. It tears at him piece by piece seeing you with another man. A delicate balance between being your best friend and loving you. Why can't it be him? Why does he try so hard yet your eyes pull to others.

His silence tells you he's upset, you dont blame him, there were others before Eddie and each time it hurts him more and more. He chews the inside of his cheek, the physical pain better than emotional. Eyes fixed on nothing, as the thought of Eddie's hands on you, and the pretty sounds that you probably made for him make him sick to his stomach. His eyes close tight, blocking out the visions that plague him.

"You're different to me Peach, they don't know you like I do. And thank goodness cuz I'm afraid he'd love you too." He gives you a tight lipped smile, as he pulls up to your dads house.

He looks different, at least you see him differently. Maybe love comes unexpectedly and no chimes are needed. A chill runs down his spine when you scratch at the nape of his neck.

"You cut your hair." You state, running your fingers through his light brown tresses, no longer shoulder length.

"Yea, you like it?" He questions, secretly hoping you do.

"I love it." You assure.

"Will you come over later?" He asks, already missing your touch as your hand retreats from his hair and you exit the car.

"I can't Bash, I got Austin's live stream rehearsal. Travis is still playing drums but the guitarist is sketchy. Just gonna be busy." What you really want to say is. I need space. Space from boys who love with their hands but not their hearts. Space from you to figure out if I want something more.

He nods, understanding all too well that the live stream is important to you. He offers to fill in if you can't find a replacement, you decline. Glass House is already booked with small venues in LA, soon headed to Northern California. You couldn't put more on their plate.

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

"Heeeyyy big boy! Come here, bring it in." Eddie's wide arms embrace his friend, slapping his back in brotherly love.

"Don't hey me, I waited for you for hours. What the fuck man. I told you yesterday what time the plane lands." Shoving Eddie's shoulder in irritation as they seperate from their hug.

"Nice to see you too Steve. And I told you I was with my girl. Just overslept is all. Now hurry up I left her at the house to come get you."

"Your girl? Really? Cuz last I checked Eddie didn't do relationships." Steve questions, throwing Eddie a duffle bag that collides with his chest.

"Oof, yeah yeah, well she's not my girlfriend yet, and I actually really like this one. Dude, get your stuff, let's gooo." Eddie rushes, throwing Steve's bag over his shoulder as he walks out the doors of LAX, Steve just a few steps behind him.

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

Eddie returns to his house two cups of coffee and croissants in hand. He's humming to a song only he can hear, a pip in his step as he bounds up the stairs to the door. Heart full and yearning to get back in bed with you. He thinks Slater 50/50's would be a great place to take you for some lunch, 100 beers on tap, delicious burgers.

After spending the afternoon with you and the way you made him feel he was floating among the clouds. Whenever he fell for someone, it was always hard, fast and all at once. He never thought of you as just a hookup, sure he wanted to get signed and maybe snooping behind your back wasn't exactly honorable. It was different now, the late night talks, the way his heart beat faster whenever he would hear your laugh. The way your body felt under his, the pretty sounds he made you sing. Yeah, he needed to hear his favorite song again.

Pushing the front door open with his boot he's met with the members of Corroded Coffin, lounging in his living room.

"Ooohh playboy has arrived. What did ya get us?" Gareth saunters over, snatching one of the coffees.

"Not for you asshole." Eddie scolds, pulling the drinks out of reach as he heads towards his room.

"If you're looking for sleeping beauty, she's not here." Gareth sing songs, throwing himself on the couch, flipping through the apps on the tv.

"She left man, I saw some guy pick her up, gave her his hoodie." Jeff adds, recalling when he went out to his car for his gym bag and seeing you a few houses down.

"She left? What guy? Did she say anything?" Eddie asks confused and in disbelief, did you see the note he left you? Did you not care? Setting down the breakfast he brought for you in the kitchen, he scratches at his stubble, brows furrowed, he checks his phone for messages. Nothing.

"Just that she was leaving. Nothing else." Jeff shrugs.

Eddie walks over to his room, expecting you to be there somehow. Not a single thing is misplaced, as if you weren't even there. He walks around to his side of the bed and sits down. Mind going a mile a minute, he takes the initiative to call you.

Unfortunately for Eddie it goes straight to voicemail.

"Hey Baby, I'm sorry I wasn't in bed when you woke up. I had to pick up my friend from the airport. Um, where are you? Call me."

Eddie decides to check the ring cameras, hoping to see who picked you up and what state you were in. When he sees his car pull up to the driveway panic sets in. "Oh nonono." His jaw hits the floor as the camera displays you both in the driveway, bouncing on his cock. He smiles fondly "Good night i see." Gareth smiles, eyes wide at the feed when the car door opens and he sees Eddie shuffle to the door, your legs wrapped around his waist, dress pulled around your hips. "Holy shit man, that ass is–"

"Hey! Close your fucken eyes." Eddie scolds, covering the screen with his hands.

Gareth has this curious look in his eye, he can't understand why Eddie's so smitten with you. He thought you were just a pawn to get Corroded Coffin to stardom and now he sees Eddie has actually caught feelings. "Don't tell me you actually like her."

"It's none of your business man."

Gareth walks away hoping that Eddie's feelings for you don't stray him from the responsibilities he has to the band. He hopes you're not another Becky, stringing them along, sinking your teeth into him only to drain them dry. Although Eddie owes them for all their bad luck he still doesn't want to see his friend get hurt.

Eddie fwds the feed and watches as you stand near the door head tilted, your face is scrunched up, brows furrowed. At one point you gasp, mouth open wide as you turn to look at the door. Clearly something was said that upset you because he sees you wipe your eyes and shake your head. You glance up at the camera, eyes red and glossy. Eddie's heart sinks to his stomach, something's wrong. He watches as you wipe a tear away, feet bare as you walk away from his house.

The night was perfect and now everything is slowly crumbling right before his eyes. He joins his bandmates in the living room again. "What the fuck did you guys say?" He demands, standing in front of the tv with his arms flailing around, explaining everything he saw to them. "Nothing dude, we didn't say anything. Just asked where you were." Gareth replies, eyes glancing at Jeff.

"You guys are fucking useless." Frustrated, Eddie grabs his keys, hoping to catch you at your dads house before you can drive away.

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

The drive from your dads house to your apartment was long. Taking the more scenic route to think about everything that had gone wrong. Eddie didn't pressure you into anything, it had all been your idea. Your idea to leave the restaurant, you made the first move by placing his hand on your thigh. You gave him the green light.

Too busy searching in your purse with your head down, you don't see a tall man swing his bag over his shoulder, accidentally hitting you straight in the face.

Your head snaps back, as his heavy bag collides with your nose, a crunch so loud it rings in your ears. Heels throwing you off balance, shredding both knees as they scrape along the concrete floor.

You groan in intense pain as your hands fly to your nose, swiping above your lip with a wince, blood smeared across your lips as well as your fingers. Bright red blood coats your fingers, drips of crimson dot your sweater taking your mind back, back to that night. You close your eyes tightly. "It's just a little blood, It's just a little blood."

Vision blurred and mind hazy from the impact, you hear a faint 'I'm going to lift you off the ground ok' followed with a string of muffled apologies. A strong arm wraps around your back and another behind your knees, lifting you off the ground bridal style.

Afraid to slip from his grasp, you wrap your arms around his neck, head against his shoulder to stop the dizziness. His voice is unrecognizable when he says 'I gotcha' and his hands are too soft behind your knees, a touch that's unfamiliar. The scent of vanilla and cinnamon fills your nose, reminding you of Christmas cookies, comforting and safe.

Gently he sets you down on a bench, cursing to himself when he sees your bloody knees. Tilting your head back to stop your bloody nose, he runs into the coffee shop quickly returning with ice wrapped in paper towels. "Is it ok if I touch you? You're….um…you don't have pants on."

"Shit… Yea. I'm so sorry. I do have…..ugh. I'm…I'm wearing a dress." Mystery man nods his head, gently placing the ice packs to your knees, keeping them tightly together as you remember you have no panties on.

Eyes closed and head leaned back, unable to meet the man's eyes, soft fingers grab at your ankle. Holding back the pain, he rotates your ankle side to side making you curse in agony. "Ouch that fucking hurts!" You cry out, tears forming in your waterline.

"Shit. sorry. sorry. I think you sprained your ankle, or broke it." He comments, voice filled with concern.

Blinking your eyes open to clear your vision, you take a glance down to see the damage. Big hazel eyes meet yours, honey brown hair styled to perfection, he's more handsome than you imagine and the second man to be on his knees for you today.

"I'm really fucking sorry. You're pretty…"

"What?!" You question.

"Pretty um……pretty banged up. I…I just landed here, visiting some friends and don't have a car or else I'd drive you to a doctor."

Heartache mixed with throbbing pain creates the perfect storm, as tears prick your eyes, you try and think of the next step, go home and sleep it off? Try and drive to the hospital yourself and risk getting in an accident?

You attempt to stand, hand gripping the back of the bench, one foot in front of the other. As soon as you put weight on your ankle, your knee buckles and down you go. "Whoa, Easy there. Yeah, you can't walk." Mystery man holds you up, one arm wrapped around your waist while the other carries his duffle bag. "Shit. Do you think you can drive my car to the hospital? I promise it's close." Before you can dismiss your question, finding it too weird of a task for someone you just met. He responds with an enthusiastic "Yes!" Swooping you easily into his arms. You instruct him where your car is and he carefully places you in the passenger seat. He settles in the drivers side, adjusting the seat and mirrors.

Curious, you pull down the visor to inspect your face. Several shades of purple cover underneath your swollen eyes, nose puffy and beet red. "Oh my god." You groan covering your face in your hands, mortified that this handsome man saw you like this. "What's in the bag, rocks?"

"No, um just clothes and some shoes. Again i'm so fucking sorry. I didn't see you, I just kinda threw my bag and then before I knew it, you're laying on the ground. I promise I'll make it up to you, anything you want. Ok?"

"Yeah, I'll think of something, just drive. Please."

Urgent Care wait times were ridiculous even in a fancy hospital like Cedars. Mystery man insisted on waiting with you and said he caused this mess and it was the least he could do.

You learn his business is expanding to California. Some big shot tech company that he had to inherit from his Dad, similar to you. He's friendly and very beautiful, tall and clearly athletic given his golden tan and toned arms. Very different from the types of men you find attractive, no leather or tattoo in sight. He's a breath of fresh air, probably not into groupies but definitely the model type.

You catch him staring a lot and you think it's because you look insane, bruised and bloodied. Definitely not because he thinks you're pretty. Definitely not. Nurses gave him nasty looks while you were met with warm smiles. When they called you into a room, he wasn't allowed inside with you, domestic abuse questions on a small card gave you a hint as to why. Even when you explained that it was all an accident, you were met with looks of sympathy and worry.

After what seemed like hours you were released with a hairline fracture to your nose, which needed no intervention. Worse of the injuries was your grade 3 sprain, four weeks of rest, which was impossible in your line of work, ice to keep swelling down, compression as well as keeping the ankle elevated.

"Oh no, they gave you crutches. Fuck, I'm so so sorry. How can I help you? Please, I feel terrible."

"Just drive me home please." You grumbled, crutches clicking against the tile as you hobbled out of the hospital. Mystery man offered to be at your beck and call for the entirety of the 4 weeks needed to heal. Do you need a drive to work? He's available. Need to pick up some groceries? He'll pay to have them delivered. Need to walk your non-existent cat? He'll be there anytime.

"Do you need help upstairs?" He asks, as he parks your car near your apartment, grabbing his bag from the backseat.

"No, I think I got it from here." You reply, opening the car door, attempting to bring your crutches out. He's helping you in a flash, forearm flexed for you to grip onto as you exit the car. "Thanks." You smile tightly, tucking the crutches under your arms.

"Um, do you think I can ….. like…..get your number? Just… just to make sure you're ok. In case you need anything. I can come over and um… help you. If not, that's ok… no worries." Red paints his cheeks and ears as he rubs the back of his neck. A shy smile plastered on his handsome face as he looked at you from under his thick lashes.

"Sure." You reply, scribbling your number on a napkin you found in your purse. You hand him the paper and his fingers graze yours as he takes it from your hand, studying the digits as if they'd disappear in thin air.

"I'm Steve by the way. Steve Harrington."

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