#if you're in the us please don't ignore this

[gojos-version]

What a slutty concubine

Pairings- Y/N x Hein era! Sukuna

Summary- Your village gave you to Sukuna as an offering, so you became one of his concubines. He seems to ignore your presence for weeks until today.

Warnings- Monster fucking (if Hein era Sukuna counts as that), pet name (little one because you're physically smaller than him and he's 8ft. brat is used), his tummy mouth is used, mating press, double penetration, size kink, tummy bulge, very light choking, doggy style, full nelson and no protection.

Word count- 2.5k

Proof read- ✅

A/n- Hello!! This is the result from the poll i did yesterday! I really hope you all enjoy this as much as I did writing it :) I told yall id cook and make it filthy >:P Please feel free to request anything or drop any suggestions!! I hope you have a lovely day <33

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“Master Sukuna requests all of you to be lined up outside his chambers.” Uraume’s voice rings out, making you stop what you were doing. You nudge the woman next to you and whisper, “What’s going on?”, she nudges you forward softly whispering, “The king does this a few times monthly, or every few days depending on his mood. He chooses one of us to spend the night with.” She grins, “Come, let us go now or he’ll be mad.” You nod your head nervously and follow closely behind her. 

Spend the night with him? You think to yourself. What does that mean? Your heart races thinking it could mean..he’d kill you.. Or.. you stop yourself from thinking about that and shake your head. Not the time. It's not like he'd choose you anyway. He’s completely ignored you for weeks. You kneel down next to the other concubines bowing your head respectively. You hear his loud thump thump thump of footsteps. You want to look up at him but you can't bring yourself to. “They are here as you requested, Master.” you hear Uraume say and then Sukuna hums. “Excellent”, you feel his eyes scanning around the room, your heart racing feeling his gaze on you. 

“You. Come with me.” He orders, you lift your head up and Uraume nods their head at you, “Everyone else you are dismissed.” they order out. You feel your mouth go dry as the other concubines glare at you, some scoffing as they walk back to the room. The one you were talking to before smiles at you, giving you an encouraging “Don’t worry you can do this! Let me know how you go, okay? I’m Akari!”, You let out a small smile to her, “O-okay.. Thank you Akari, I’m y/n” you introduce yourself back. You didn't talk much to anyone when you got here, you did speak to Akari for a bit but never really got the chance to introduce yourself or know her name.

“Y/n, come. You don't want the King to be infuriated.” Uraume interrupts, you swallow thickly nodding your head and follow them into Sukuna’s chambers. You grip the sleeve of your kimono as you trail closely behind Uraume. They knock on the door, “You may enter.” Sukunas deep voice trails out. Your heart races as Uraume steps to the side and gestures for you to walk in. with shaky legs you walk into the room and the door shut with a soft click! “Don’t be afraid, little one. Come.” He orders. For a moment you take him in, 4 big muscley arms, a giant mouth on his abdomen, its expression mirroring his face. He's got 2 arms crossed and the other 2 by his side, all 4 of his eyes watching you. You step closer to him, standing in front of him. “What is it that you want, My Lord?” you ask, trying not to let your voice shake. He raises a brow and grins, “Answer me this, little one, are you pure?” Pure? Does he mean a virgin? If he's not happy with my answer what if he kills me?

“Um.. I am not pure” You answer truthfully. You've been with only one man in your life but, in the village you lived in before you were offered to Sukuna. You had a happy relationship with your boyfriend but god he didn't even say anything as the villagers pushed you towards Sukuna screaming out you were the offering. You see him hum thoughtfully. “Normally I'd kill you for it but since you were given as an offering, I'll give you a chance to please me.” Your eyes widen, you've only really done it once with your boyfriend. It was a fresh relationship before all this happened! It might not have been the best but to you it was more than enough.

“T-thank you, Lord Sukuna.” You bow politely. Now what? Do you strip? Do you wait for him to kiss you? Do you get on the bed???? His voice interrupts your thoughts, “Strip and sit on the bed.” He orders as he turns around to take off his own kimono and he hangs it, while you step out of your kimono and undergarments. Hesitantly you sit on the bed laying on your back. “Good.” He praises, he crawls on top of you and takes your lips in his. You kiss him back and god you feel his tongue dominating yours, your body heats up, his tongue working against yours making you moan softly into his mouth, it feels like electricity shooting through your veins from a simple kiss.

Your now ex?? boyfriend never made your body react this way with a simple kiss. His lips part from yours and he starts nibbling at your throat. “How many times was he inside of you?” He hums against your skin. Your mouth runs dry, “U-uh once”, You hear a hum of satisfaction. Sukuna moves down to your breasts sucking on your nipple harshly, groping and fondling the other one. You feel yourself get damp, slick dripping down your sopping cunt down to your ass. You've never gotten this wet this quickly. You were almost concerned you got your period early from how goddamn soaked you felt. One of his hands goes down, touching your tummy down to your cunt and oh he laughs when he feels how damp you are. “Look at how wet she is” he smirks, his palm cupping your cunt. Your heart stops when you feel something wet and slimy against your sopping cunt. “Relax, it's just a mouth.” He grunts out, putting more pressure against it. You gasp out a moan, your hands reaching out to grip his shoulders.

“L-L-ord- Ah-!” You moan out as the tongue on his palm pushes deep inside of you, bullying its way into you. “Yeah? Feels good, hm?” He says smugly, sitting back on his heels to watch you, he can see your slick dripping down your thighs and making a wet spot on the mattress under you. You feel a knot in your stomach tightening up making you gasp and moan wildly. “S-suk-una-! A-ah! C-clooooosee!!” you whimper out gripping the sheets with a steel grip, your walls clenching around his tongue. Suddenly he takes his palm off of you, “That’s ‘Lord Sukuna’, little one.”, “I-i’m s-sorry!” You say a bit too loudly. You watch as he slips his undergarment down revealing not 1 but 2 thick, long cocks. 

Your eyes widen and your mouth runs dry. “M-my L-Lord I-im not sure i can-” He cuts you off glaring at you, “You will take them.” your heart races. ‘It looks like 1 is painful. How the hell am I gonna be able to take both?’ You think to yourself, your body feels really hot, you're breathing heavily watching his every move; spreading your legs in anticipation. He notices and smirks, he hovers over you propping your legs up to your chest. You are folded in half your cunt in clear view, so soaked with your ass hole in his view too. He takes his top cock and rubs the tip on your slit, bumping your clit, his precum and your slick mixing together. You can hear his cock and your sopping cunt connecting and every move he moves his cock up and down your slit you can hear the wet squelches your cunt makes. 

He starts to slowly push the tip in, immediately the stretch stings from the sudden intrusion. “Calm yourself.” He mumbles but god he won't admit it outloud, your warm wet cunt clenching around his tip makes him want to shove his entire length into you and fill you oh so full of his cum. You nod your head blearily trying to relax yourself as you feel him sink his cock into you. 2 of his arms grip your thighs, pushing your ankles to your head while his other top arms grip the headboard. He thrusts the first few thrusts slowly allowing you to adjust but after that? His thrusts speed up to an inhuman pace, his mushroom red tip slapping against your cervix hard. You don't moan, you scream out from how heavenly you feel right now, if it's possible somehow above that. Suddenly his left top arm leaves the headboard and his palm covers your mouth, a mouth forming on his palm and it shoves its tongue down your throat making you let out muffled moans it greedily swallows. Sukuna looks down and god he could cum right then and there at the sight of your stomach having a bulge from how big he is. When he thrusts in the bulge is right there and when he pulls back to shove his needy cock into you again and again the bulge disappears and reappears with each motion. You feel a knot form and you feel like you're about to explode. You can't even warn him because he has his hand covering your mouth with its tongue down your throat.

Your drenched cunt grips his cock like a vice, your eyes roll back and you sink somehow further into the mattress and you see not stars, pure white as you start shaking from how good you felt. You hear him grunt out a few curses and he fills you to the brim of how much cum comes out. He lets go of your legs and removes his hand off your mouth. With a swift motion he flips you over, on all fours. “We aren’t done yet, brat I’ve got a lot more in me.” He lines up behind you and pushes his bottom cock into your cunt making you moan out in surprise. “T-there's- more-? A-ah!” You whimper out feeling his tummy mouth's tongue licking your ass, the hole specifically. He stills inside of you breathing heavily and his tummy mouth stops dampening your hole, his top cock bumping against your hole making you shiver in anticipation. 

“P-please..you can put it in..” and oh you feel so pathetic for saying that when he smirks and laughs. “Oh? You’re not so scared now, hm? What happened to your complaining, brat?” He mocks, his tip circling your hole. “I-i’m warmed up now- i didn't mean it before- Lord Sukuna..” You add, not wanting to make him mad. You definitely didnt want to lose your head, especially mid fuck. “Mhm, sure little one.” He laughs and starts pushing the tip in making you gasp and cover your mouth, not wanting to be too loud. He sinks his top cock into your ass making your body feel like jelly; your head slumps against the pillow. 

You let out a string of muffled moans feeling him loom over your body as he begins thrusting both of his cocks in each of your holes. God he was going to destroy you. You feel his hips pistoning against yours, pelvis and balls slapping making a lewd plap! Plap! Plap! Each time he abuses your cervix. Both your hands grip the pillow with all your might, “M-my L-Lord-A-ah!” You squeal out as you feel his cocks so deep inside of you. Your eyebrows pinch up as your head’s slumped into the pillow, your body being used like a fuck toy to satisfy his needs. 

You feel that familiar knot in your tummy, hazily you turn your head and look over your shoulder to find Sukuna breathing heavily on your shoulder, cheeks flushed with his lower set of eyes watching you and his other 2 shut. His mouth on his abdomen licks where you're both connected from your sopping cunt and your ass that's leaking with his precum. “Stop looking at me, brat.” He mumbles out, as you go to look away and apologise one of his hands wrap around your neck, not enough to hurt you but just enough to have the edge of your vision blurred. 

“I-I’m-” Is all you get to cough out before you're squirting messily over his cocks. “Yeah that's it, take it.” He grunts out before filling both of your holes, not to the brim but past the brim, his cum leaking out of you as he thrusts sloppily riding out both of your highs. You see white as you shake uncontrollably. His hand lets go of your throat and you gasp for air, suddenly when you think it's finally over it's not. 2 of his arms grip your thighs, the other 2 grab your middle and upper body which makes your body follow his as he lies backwards onto his back, 2 of his hands holding your thighs up to your chest pinning you against him as he thrusts both of his cocks messily into your holes. “H-ah! M-my L-Lord- p-pleaaasee-ah! Ah! Ah!” You scream out as he bottoms out inside of you with every quick, harsh thrust. 

One of his hands snakes down to your clit and a mouth forms on his palm, licking and sucking your clit making you scream and cry out wildly. “S-s-uk-n-ah!” You whimper out, he moans as your holes clench around him, he hisses slightly then covers your mouth with his free hand and a mouth forms on it the tongue, tongue fucking yours making drool from the corner of your mouth drip down to your chin. 

“You’re so nasty, brat” Sukuna hisses out and bites your neck, your moans and squeals muffled by his nasty mouth on his palm. Your body feels limp just sitting there and taking it. You can feel his heavy breaths against your upper neck where he's biting down, your eyes crossed as you mindlessly claw against his biceps. He's beefy. Huge biceps. “What a nasty, filthy, slutty concubine I have. I’d say your village made an exceptional offering.” You feel yourself flush at his words. Right now it feels like his cocks are trying to rip their way to your lungs, his tongue trying to go down your throat, his tummy mouth trying to soak your back and ass and his other mouth trying to bite your clit off. But right now the lines between pleasure and pain blurred the moment he stuffed you full of his cock.

Your puffy cunt and ass squeeze his cocks like you're milking him making a moan slip out of his pink, pouty lips. God youd scream right now if you could but thanks to his tongue fucking your mouth you can only let out muffled guttural sounds. Your stomachs warm tight knot knots up signalling you're oh so close to coming all over his cocks. Your vision feels faint and you feel light headed from the pleasure but youre so close. Your cunt and ass squeeze around his cocks as you squirt again soaking his pelvis and legs, your eyes roll back and the last thing you can feel is his warm cum filling you up once again as you pass out. “Brat, did you pass out?” When you give no answer he lets out a ‘Hmph’ as he pulls out of you, grinning in satisfaction as his cum leaks from your holes, your tummy plump from how much he finished inside of you. 

The sheets are soaked and so are the both of you. He puts a towel around his bottom half as his cocks soften up. “Uraume, take care of her.” He orders out, “Yes, sir” They nod, wrapping you in a towel and taking you to your bed. He hums to himself silently thinking, he’s definitely going to have more fun with you in the future.

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Masterlist<3

[theocddiaries]

[The family are eating breakfast] Jason: Bruce, since I'm not talking to Damian, would you please ask him to pass me the syrup? Bruce [sighs]: Please, pass your brother the syrup, Damian. Damian: Richard, tell Todd I'll only pass the syrup if it won't be used on any meat products. Dick: You dunkin' your sausages in that syrup, babybird? Jason: Bruce, tell Dick I just want to drink a nice glass of syrup like I do every morning. Bruce: Tell him yourself, you're ignoring Damian, not Dick. Jason: …Dick, thank Dad for pointing that out. Bruce: Jason, firstly: you're not not talking to me, and secondly I heard what you said. Jason [grunts]: Damian, tell your father to get off my case. Tim: Jason, Damian's the one you're not talking to. Jason: ...That's it, go to your room! Damian: Why don't you just eat him, Todd? Jason: I don't need any serving suggestions from you, you barbecue-wrecking know-nothing know-it-all! Damian: That's it! I can't live in a house with this prehistoric carnivore! I am out of here! [Damian gets up and leaves the house by the front door]. Jason: …That's it! Go to your room!

[drgnflyteabox]

red ochre [1]

part one -> minium || part two -> tbd

pairing: viking goap x fem! nun reader summary: you become the unlikely treasure of two vikings who raid your convent looking for gold w.c: 4.3k tags/warnings: religious themes (DLDR), minor suicidal ideation, mention of viking raids (slavery, violence, death), kidnapping, threats, dubcon bathing + touching, mean simon (ish), established goap, reader is underfed and beaten in the convent (corporal punishment), difficult travel, some food description

Near the coast the wind scratches at you when it blows, full of sand and salt.

Once, you'd imagined this as your calling; committed to asceticism, married to God, serving under the abbess. Enclosed, you find yourself stifled more than devoted, pressing your face to the stone barrier that blocks the convent from the outside world.

Isolation, never being quite full, the slow and steady stripping of your identity. This is your life - hollowed out, like meat sucked from a crab, cracked open and used and hollow.

You couldn't have predicted Christ to be such an inconsiderate husband.

"Girl!" the voice is the crack of a whip in empty air. You don't jump, but the hair on your body raises, the welts on your thighs sting.

"Yes, mother?" you put your chin down to your chest, turning, pressing your back to the wall. Demure, submissive, utterly devoid of fight. And still, her grip finds you hard as iron and rough as the rock you'd just been touching, pulling you hard enough to make your shoulder ache back toward the heavy wood doors of the dormitory.

"You shirk your duties again, child? Leave your sisters to pick up your slack?" you didn't mean to, truly. It's only that you ache so deeply you're afraid you might never recover from the feeling.

"Please forgive me, mother, I lost track of time," you murmur. Your uniform is damp from the spray outside, and you relish in the scent and feel of it. Freedom, that's what it is. "Allow me to make up for-"

"Hush!" spit touches your cheek. You don't wipe it away. "You'll finish the tapestry tonight. No matter how long it takes you."

Desperately, you wish for God to strike you down. If you're there, father. You close your eyes. Please, please kill me now.

He doesn't listen, and the abbess pushes you to supper.

Dark bread, boiled turnips, fish and wine. Average, filling, but you'd hoped for more of the crumbly white cheese from yesterdays supper.

You know not to complain. And truly, you are grateful. With your family, it had been gruel upon gruel, often bear, and rarely flavour. Salt kisses your tongue now, and the wine makes your sore muscles relax.

The monks have it harder; you'd visited them once as a girl with your father to pray, but there was still labour to be done here. Cooking was often your job, as was doing the washing and the tilling for the vegetable garden.

Today sister Colette had assigned you weaving so that you wouldn't be out of practice. The muscles in your back and fingers ached from it already, and dread made your stomach sour to the food you ate at the thought of more work.

Mealtimes were quiet, as required. The other women eat mousily, looking down at their plates and pulling their food apart into small little bites, trying to make it last. Obedience, poverty. How silly it was now that you'd dreamed of this.

"Sister?" a whisper, next to you. Margaret was almost a friend, too pious to really confide in but so kind it was impossible to ignore her. "What were you doing?"

"I felt compelled," you shrug, lips oily from the fish. "I felt confined."

"Oh sister," Margaret pushes her bottom lip out, dark eyebrows pulling up. "You should never feel confined here."

You knew, and yet you did. It was like living in a stone coffin. All the work felt pointless since your heart had strayed from God. Even now, touching Margaret's elbow to comfort her in her worry for you, you're sick to death of even clearing plates.

There was one secret they hadn't found. None of the sisters, not even the abbess, had found your secret booklet.

Paper was more valuable than gold since the church needed so much to copy and produce texts. The writing room at the very top of the convent, where you were so seldomly asked, was full of it and guarded by lock and key.

Over months, you'd scrounged, stealing enough to make a booklet. In it, you felt sustained. Free. Titillated, sometimes, when your hand found its way beneath your soft worn blanket under your shift and you drew indecent drawings of men coming to save you. Of the farmboys from your village.

They were nothing like real art, not so detailed, but they lit inside you a spark of life. Without them, you'd be snuffed out.

Candles line the hallway toward the workroom, where you'll likely spend the rest of the night. It's near the very entrance of the convent, so that visitors may see the sisters hard at work and find reason to donate.

Really, it's a temptation. Those massive doors, ready to open and let you free.

But what could you do, really? If God were a kind man and Christ a good husband, they'd turn you into a horse so that you might run, might feel your hooves beating the earth and the coarse air on your skin.

Regrettably human, you sit to work on the tapestry. Curse the abbess and let the holy father hear your thoughts. This is worse than hell, you think. Your fingers cramp and the chair is hard, flat wood. It's made to be uncomfortable on purpose, everything is. After you finish you only have a thin mattress to look forward to, even thoughts of drawing hunky carpenters doesn't draw you out of the misery that is embroidery in the dark.

Is this string strong enough to hold you, should you hang yourself? You're being dramatic, but you feel you've earned the right.

Footsteps walk down the hall towards you. They're sure, heavy. Maybe sister Catharine, tall and splendid, is coming to release you from torment?

"Hello," you say jovially. Please be sister Catharine.

"Look what we've got here, Ghost," it's a male voice. You freeze. The accent is unfamiliar. Had you missed the visit of a monk, an abbot, a priest? "Darlin' little lass, all by herself."

Shivers overtake you. It hurts to straighten from your hunched position, but you have to do it to see properly.

You come face to face with a skull, towering over you from the doorway.

A scream builds, filling your chest, hanging off the tip of your tongue.

Stopped only by the glint of candlelight against a blade, and the quickness of the another man reaching you.

You shake, all sound stuck in your throat, feeling arms as strong as petrified wood circle your arms and pull you toward the door. The pressure, the scrape of rock against your feet, it's unreal and barely registered against the terror that builds when you look to your left and see the skull, sewn into cloth, with the soft clank of bones hanging from his waist.

His eyes find yours, dead and mellow in the eyesockets, piercing through you. Blood rushes through your ears, deafening you, until you leave the room and reality sets in.

Devils, come to sack the convent.

Who will likely kill you and all your sisters. Even the abbess, with her punishment cane and severe face, doesn't deserve that.

You shriek, finding your voice, twisting like a cat in a bag. Their hands tighten against you, growling orders at you to be still, girl.

It's then that you hear the cries, the crashes. Sounds of chaos, a cacophony of harsh voices and the search of the convent. Some of the women weep, some pray, you scream.

"Hey!" Skull snaps, shaking you hard. "Behave and we won't kill you." You comprehend that, but the animal urge to struggle for your life still has a grip on you.

The other man twists towards you, lips snarling. "Ye want to die, then? I'm not opposed to slitting ye open throat to cunt, if that's what ye prefer."

You still, sag, mouth turning downwards in misery. Sweat sticks to your skin, from fear and exertion.

"Good girl," Skull says.

The nuns have been crowded back into the dining room, cowed and cowering, trembling lambs against the storm of awful armoured men ravaging the sanctity of the space.

Some have already found gold, crosses and busts of saints and reliquaries. The abbess weeps to see the bust of Mother Mary, thrown so roughly to the ground that baby Jesus snaps off.

You watch it all happening, eyes wide, shaking despite yourself. Adrenaline makes your legs cramp in their position, curled, back to back with another sister.

"Cap," a younger man runs up, hands full with an ornate chest. "What'cha think of this one?"

"Lookit this one," the man from earlier is giddy, slapping the young one on the back. He holds St Augustine, gilded in gold and jewels. "Not too shabby, eh, Gaz?"

"Not too shabby at all," Gaz grins back at him, turning towards the third man.

"Good job, boys," he says. He's mustached, tall, steadier and calmer than the rest. A leader, clearly.

It smells of smoke, or blood, but you can't see anyone bleeding.

Maybe that's their natural scent, violence clinging to them cloying like they'd bathed in it before coming.

"Soap," Gaz calls. He's run through the library, tossing shelves to the ground, taking one or two books. Walked through the dormitories, throwing open the chests at the ends of each bed. "Take a look at this one!"

A little booklet. Your booklet, tiny in the hand of the devil.

Anxiety crawls up your spine. There's no way they'd know it was yours, but you're still afraid of another kind of raiding, should they discover your sin.

The men laugh, looking with hungry eyes, glinting, mouths stretched and wet.

Look at the ground, be quiet, be still. You want to survive, you want to draw again and feel the air against your skin. You're scared of these men, huge and muscled as they are.

They wear furs, leather, clinking chainmail, wrapped shoes. Weapons hang by their sides and are clutched firmly in hands, though no nuns nor abbesses have been harmed.

Yet.

"Gold ain't the only treasure, eh?" Soap looks down at you while others use pillowcases for bags, stuffing their bounty inside with loud clangs.

His foot nudges your thigh, and you shift away as much as possible, still looking away, still scared.

Skull comes back. Soap calls him over and calls him Ghost, so you switch the name in your head.

Ghost is big, but he glides through the air.

"See that, Ghost?" Soap nudges him, the way he nudged you. Eyes crazed.

"Mm," Ghost grunts. He hasn't looted, not like the others. Just walked through the halls and gathered one or two other stray nuns shuddering in various corners. "You want 'er?"

You blanch, breath leaving you.

"Can we?" He looks back at you and leans down, thick fingers finding your chin, tilting your face up. "Pretty little hen, so scared, aren't ye?"

"Take 'er."

With Ghosts permission, Soap moves his fingers from your face to the meat of your arms, dragging you up, using your stupor to help him.

"Dinnae worry, hen, we'll take good care of ye," it's not reassuring. You think you feel your knees hitting each other from the force of your shaking. "Awe, don't cry."

Two rivers have sprouted form your eyes, tracking searing hot salt down your cheeks, hands twisting in your habit.

The men regroup. You were right about the mustached man being a leader, and learn his name is Price. He commands them like any armyman you've ever seen, clearly holds a lot of authority.

You're the only nun that's a part of the spoils.

The only one tied with coarse rope around the wrists, chafing, tossed between Soap and Gaz through the convent until you reach those big wooden doors.

Those doors you'd dreamed about opening, those doors that you dread opening now.

"Keep walking," Gaz says. He's mellower than the others, but you'd be a fool to underestimate him.

Or ask him for help.

Reality hasn't set. You're in purgatory, stumbling across the wet grass in just wool socks, growing wetter by the minute from mist and dew. The men hoot and cheer and clank their gold, throwing fists and weapons in the air.

A bloodless victory, unless they change their mind and decide to kill you.

Soap jumps, accidentally pulling you forward in a jerk that brings you to your knees. The tears come back, and the pebbles nearing the beach digging into your knees makes you sob.

"Careful!" Ghost barks. Behind you, he reaches under your armpits and helps you up. His hands are still rough, but he lets go of you quickly to yank the rope out of Soaps hands. It doesn't help that it's still near-pitch outside, not yet morning, hard to see.

"Ach," he rubs a hand behind his head, watching you cry and walk like a deadwoman. "Got a little over-excited, darlin. Forgive me."

"I'll be better to ye, don't worry," he falls in beside you, using a knuckle to brush away your tears.

When you reach the beach, you see a few boats, supplies, but that's all. No camp, nowhere to sleep. Did they jump straight from the boats, marching up the hill to the convent to pillage?

God, they're so big. Warriors. Why just you?

"Right," Price calls them to attention. You're stuck next to Ghost, sniffling, shivering a little, praying mentally for the first time in a long time. Dear God, please help me, please strike these men dead and let me run back up the hill.

You miss what Price says, whispering under your breath with your eyes closed and palms together until Ghost puts his hand on your shoulder and pushes you forward again.

"Walk, then get on the boat," his voice is a growl.

"Dinnae worry," Soap chips in. "We brought meat."

They did - dried fish hangs like your laundry across each boats. The gold is loaded alongside you, stuffed to one side, and you're left trying to avoid the men tossing things in your direction.

Ghost ties your wrists to a wooden loop on the side of the boat.

It was built for this. For prisoners, slaves, taken in conquest.

"Ready?"

"Ready!"

Price shouts, the men answer. It's loud, a cacophony of voices and waves and the scrape of the boat against the sand.

You're going, going, gone. Floating. Adrift. Tied to the side of a viking ship with nothing but your thick, woolen habit and woolen socks. At least they provide some warmth, the air colder over the water.

Eyes look you up and down, not just from the two that took you. Gaz smiles to himself and punches Soap in the thigh, then they play wrestle.

You wonder what will happen to you- are you being taken as a slave? A prize?

The positive side to your time spend as a nun is that you know how to work, and you know that if something awful happens, you could find a way to meet God early and put yourself down.

Blood rushes in your ears again.

You register from somewhere outside of yourself that you're panicking again, caught wanting to run and having nowhere to do it. Tied down.

A hand touches your nape, and you turn with wild eyes and desperation all over your face to Ghost.

"Take a breath," he says, low enough that only you hear it, firm and commanding. "In and out, girl. Do it."

You do, if only to save yourself passing out. In and out, in and out, you breathe.

"That's it," he leans down, brown eyes finding yours. The skull is bleached yellow, old, but you try to ignore it. "You're alright."

"No I'm not," you shock the both of you by speaking, voice high and wavering. "I'm not, you're going to kill me or worse-"

"You think we'd take you just to kill you?"

"You're a heathen, aren't you?" you gasp again, wiping your face on the fabric of your sleeves. "Sister Catharine says heathens sacrifice virgins. Please don't."

He startles you by laughing, a ragged thing ripped from his chest.

"Not gonna sacrifice you, lamb," his hand squeeze your nape, his thumb rubbing the edge of your jaw where he can reach. "Gonna be a long journey, you'd better settle now."

It's hell. You were mistaken before, and you'd do anything now to go back to embroidery. You'd let the abbess cane you bloody, you'd kneel and pray with the passion of Christ himself if it meant you could come off the boat.

The boat, the men. The godforsaken fish, too-salty, not much better than the biscuits Soap insists on feeding you by hand.

"Your hands are tied, pretty lamb, how are ye gonna feed yourself?" He breaks it up, wiping crumbs from your cheeks.

You hope Ghost will step in, but he doesn't. He watches, a specter, still wearing that mask on his face. You wonder if it's because of you, or if he's just like that. Private, hidden. Intimidating.

"Open wide," Soap seems fond of holding your face, squishing your cheeks and puckering your lips. He's extra zealous since catching a sea-bird, keen on making you taste it.

The thought makes your stomach roil, despite being sick of the fish and biscuits. You turn your face, trying to avoid him, whimpering when he squeezes a little too hard.

"Come on, hen," he leans closer. "Fresh meat is good, no?"

"Johnny", Ghost saves you again, finally. Pulls on Johnny's shirt until he's sitting back on his heels. "Let her be."

"Awe, just wanna giv'er my catch, Si," if a heathenish, kidnapping devil could whine and pout like a child, it would look like this.

Horrific, is what it is. You tuck your face into your elbow and close your eyes.

You've been doing that most of the journey, closing your eyes and breathing deeply like Ghost taught you. Or Simon, what you've heard Johnny calling him.

Dread sneaks in every once in a while, wakes you up from fitful sleeps or seizes your ability to speak. Nobody else has spoken to you, not even Gaz who keeps glancing at you. Nobody but Simon and Johnny.

"Here," Simon says. You look up.

In his hand, an apple. Your eyes go wide, prickling, and you look even further up to him.

His eyes reveal nothing. Brown, flat.

"For me?" you ask.

"You see me offering it to anyone else?" from the corner of your eye, Soap is staring at you, smiling.

"I can have it?" an apple. You could dance. Days and days of travel after living in the same town and then the same convent to taken by force on a boar. An apple.

"Take it before I give it to Johnny," he grunts.

Suddenly, you feel a kinship with Eve.

Seasickness luckily doesn't affect you, and the melancholy is kept at bay by the apple. You think of it when you think you can't take anymore, remembering it's sweetness.

Simon becomes the safest person, and often if you feel scared your eyes find him.

When a minor storm rocks the boat, pelting rain, waves beating against the front, you tuck yourself close to his side and let Johnny take your hands into his.

Too easy to lean into them, to accept Johnny wiping your face gently with a cloth and eat fresh fish from Simons fingers. You're exhausted, and Simon doesn't push.

He just remains steadfast against chaos, even when Johnny fights with another one of the men and he has to pull them apart by their shirts.

"Si'down!" he barks, the loudest you've ever heard him. It makes you flinch, hiding again, until he sits heavily down beside you and you scoot as close as possible again.

"Not the smartest, are you?" he looks down. That hurts. You're just scared, is all. "Doesn't matter who's there, you'd cling right to them, wouldn't you?"

No, you want to say. But you just hide your face in your arms and cry again. You want to tell him the apple was special, that you know nobody else has one or got one, but you don't.

Your heart beats hard against your ribcage, that dread coming back again, feeling heavy and small under the weight of your predicament and his judgment.

"He didnae mean it," Johnny croons. He strokes your hair away from your face, thumbs finding your tense brows and smoothing them out. "We know you're a good girl. S'why we took ye."

You sniffle. The rocking of the boat has become both maddening and soothing.

You wonder when this journey will end.

Your clothes are stiff with salt, wetted and dried and re-wetted. Your skin itches, wrists burning, welts unhealed from before when the abbess has caught you sneaking mead.

She had accused you of indulgence, of trying to get drunk. Truthfully, you'd just liked the taste of honey and missed it.

Nuns didn't eat honey, at least not there. Cheese and wine were already over the top, God forbid anyone ate anything sweet. That's why you loved the apple, had held each bite long on your tongue, letting the sugars sit there a moment to savor them.

"Hey," someone nudges you, bringing you out of your half-sleep. Easier to be less conscious, less aware, trying not to feel your anguish and your physical pain. "Come on, get up. We're here."

"Hmm?" You're so tired, hissing and whimpering when your wrists are jostled.

Untied. They're being untired. Your head lifts too quickly, making you dizzy. Gaz is squatting in front of you, holding your leash.

"You awake?" he squints, tilting his head. "You look rough, sorry 'bout that. You good to stand?"

Too many questions. You're forced to lean on him heavily to try to stand. He's as solid as the others, just leaner. Kinder, honestly, as he mostly carries you off the longboat.

Muscles like a new foal, you take a seat on the soft wet sand and slump onto a crate. It's a struggle to walk on solid ground.

Men move around you, dumping and lifting and talking. Less excited than the last time they were on the beach, but there's still a buzz aflutter.

"Can I bring'er up?" Johnny is looking at you, his hand on Simon's forearm. Their affection is the quiet kind, something you only noticed the last couple days of the journey. Small touches, murmurs.

"Go ahead," Simon touches him back, moving towards Price when Johnny comes towards you.

"Awe, lamb," he coos, hauling you up with an arm around his shoulder. His other arm goes to hold your waist, squeezing. "Dinnae worry, I'll get ye in a bath soon 'nough."

He's not lying - after a painful, difficult walk, you make it to a wooden cabin. Looking around, there are a few of similar make, a little town.

"Go on in then, sweet hen," he pushes you just enough for you to shuffle your feet in the door.

Modest wooden furniture greets you, a one-room house with a large bed, fireplace, and table. The rest is beyond you once you spot the tub.

"Sit, let me get it ready for ye."

You nearly fall asleep, or maybe you do, because when you open your eyes Johnny has steaming water filled to halfway in the tub, wooden slats fragrant. He's crumbling a dried flower in as well, humming to himself.

"Alright, s'ready," he helps you up again. Modesty is forgotten, you're too tired and weary to care when he slips the woolen habit off and leaves you in a plain shift, finally untying your wrists. "Pretty girl." He says it under his breath, like he can't help it.

The water is better than the apple. You hiss when it touches your wounds, your sore muscles.

You're tired to your marrow, could weep about it, eyes still opening and closing. Around you, Johnny searches through various bags and chests until he finds a bar of soap.

The soap is better than the water.

"Feels good?" he whispers, dipping his hands in and lathering up. How he's up and about, you have no idea. Even his hands near your bare breasts don't phase you - that's how wiped you are.

"S'good," you mumble. "Thought I ws'gonna die."

"We wouldn't've let that happen, sweet girl. Too precious, our treasure," a kiss, on your shoulder. He rubs the soap on your skin, your arms and down to your fingers, washing them each one by one.

"N'ver want to do that again," and then, because you forget he's your captor. "Please."

The attention is soft, patient. The soap washes away salt and dirt and sweat, even tears when he wipes your face with a rag. This is a second baptism, a better one, with gentle hands massaging your scalp and the barest brush against your nipples.

"Sit up," he pushes you forward, rinses your hair, washes your back while you're there.

The rag swipes over your cunt when he gets there, once, twice, eyes boring into you. Your exhaustion mutes the squeeze of anxiety in your chest, closing your eyes to avoid his gaze.

"Right, all done," he helps you back out and into a long, thin shift.

The bed is soft, so soft, covered in furs and actually stuffed enough to cradle your body. You sink into it immediately, just barely registering the door opening again.

"She asleep?" It's Simon, carrying luggage.

"Aye," Johnny says. You hear them kiss, wondering if they think you're asleep. "Anything else?"

"No," he's gruff, to-the-point. Drops bags in the corner with a clank and a chest by the door with a thud. "She give you trouble?"

"Sweet as a lamb, our girl," he sounds proud.

You open your eyes, one last attempt at self-preservation, and see them looking down at you.

Simon swipes a thumb over your cheek, under your eye, still wearing the skull.

"It's alright, go to sleep," he murmurs. Johnny leans his head on Simons shoulder. "Perfect girl, knew we did good takin' you."

[inkdrinkerworld]

"Sirius don't you dare, we're not at home." your whines go completely ignored by your boyfriend because as soon as you lay down on James' sofa, Sirius is lifting your sleep shirt and burying his head under it.

"What is wrong with him?" Lily asks as she passes you a mug of tea- chamomile with a touch of honey- before going to sit besides James who looks equally puzzled.

"Every time I get out of the shower at night he does this. Says the lotion I use is the cause." You pat your boyfriend's head under your shirt, Sirius turns sideways with a tired grin on his face.

"You act like Jamesie there isn't the biggest baby too." James gawks, hazel eyes narrowing.

"I didn't even say anything, Pads. I think it's sweet."

Remus shakes his head, "Of course you do. It'd be sweeter in private."

Lily, you and Marlene hide a laugh.

Stirring a pot, Lily says, "You could at least let the girl breathe."

"She smells like sleep, cocoa butter and vanilla. What am I meant to do against that?" He sounds too lovesick, and with the grin on his face, James wishes he had his phone nearby.

Remus solves that problem for him almost immediately. Sirius doesn't even protest.

"Siri, don't you think it's a little pathetic to have to hide under your girlfriend's clothes at night to sleep?" Marlene asks and Sirius pops his head out again.

"Pathetic is you trying to imply you haven't snuggled up next to her on your sleepovers." Marlene throws a chocolate covered almond at him while he just looks at her all pleased and content.

Remus rolls his eyes, "You could at least save it for when you get into your room."

You hide a smile, knowing exactly what Sirius is going to say. You and your boyfriend have this conversation every night you join him back on the sofa instead of in bed.

Sirius doesn't dignify Remus with full view of his face- he moves your shirt just enough that his mouth and nose are visible.

"M'gonna be asleep in a bit anyways. In fact you're all just prolonging when I'll be able to sleep by carrying out an inquisition at near midnight."

You chuckle into your mug, taking a sip as Sirius shuffles up your body and settles again.

"You're a saint, Y/n." James compliments as he watches Sirius' hold on your waist tighten before he starts the movie.

Your boyfriend whines the second your hand falls on his back and you roll your eyes, slipping your hand down his shirt and scratching his back for him.

You can feel Sirius taking deep, lungful breaths of you before his heartbeat slows a bit and his breathing evens out- not even ten minutes into the movie he'd suggested.

"He's a big fucking baby." Marlene marvels at the way Sirius sleeps through the movie, hands around you and face hidden away under your shirt. "You wouldn't even guess he was clingier than Potter."

"Hey!" James groans, but he can't protest, his head is in Lily's lap as he twists and coils strands of his hair. Sirius hasn't even shown them the half of it- James keeps that tidbit to himself.

[aroaceleovaldez]

i already was seeing a lot of Jason with albinism stuff but there's been a significant uptick in it since the Thalia casting announcement and I wanted to say: please please PLEASE do actual research about albinism if you're gonna make headcanons about Jason being albino. I have already seen so much ignorant and ableist stuff about it because nobody is bothering to do any research and it's really annoying.

A couple of major notes:

There are different types of albinism!!!!! and no i'm not referring to vitiligo or etc. Just straight up albinism there are different types. There are two main types (oculocutaneous albinism types 1 and 2) plus ocular albinism, and then some other types as well that are even rarer. It is also possible to have only partial absence of melanin. (Vitiligo is a form of partial absence/loss of melanin, and often involves loss over time)

Albinism is a lack of melanin/pigmentation. This affects sensitivity to light and UV rays a LOT. Like a lot a lot. (This also applies to vitiligo btw! Melanin protects your skin from the sun, so a loss of melanin even in patches means those areas are more sensitive!)

Skin sensitivity to sunlight does not only apply to when it is sunny out. People with albinism have to take a lot of steps to protect their skin because they are SIGNIFICANTLY more susceptible to sun/UV damage. It doesn't matter if it's overcast, raining, snowing, whatever. They are putting on sunscreen, and they are putting on a lot of it. Sun protection can also come from just covering up. Big hats are also popular choices.

Sensitivity to light also applies in all environments. Transition glasses are common and sunglasses are common.

People with albinism do not have red irises. A lack of pigmentation in irises (referred to as ocular albinism) appears blue, usually a very light blue (less melanin/pigmentation in the eye, the lighter blue it appears). The red appearance comes from more light entering the eye than usual, causing a red eye effect like you see in flash photography except with the naked eye. This can make the iris appear slightly pink/red-tinted and will more often make the pupil look reddish instead of pure black because you are seeing into the eyeball itself and the muscles and veins within it. Not everyone with albinism has blue eyes depending on how much the pigmentation in their eyes is affected, but a lot of people do.

Albinism basically always includes the individual having vision problems, usually low vision or outright being legally blind. They are not completely blind but it is very likely they are legally blind. We're talking very thick glasses (though glasses don't always help because of what causes the low vision), requiring enlarged text, i know somebody who had a little glass block that magnified text underneath it and they used that a lot, etc etc. Depending on severity they may require other assistive devices. Albinism affects the optic nerve, so other eye conditions like strabismus and nystagmus (and more) are also extremely common if not a guarantee (nystagmus is basically always guaranteed).

Nystagmus, for those who don't want to bother googling it, is uncontrollable eye movement in the form of back and forth shaking. Strabismus is when your eyes don't align with each other. These also cause vision impairment.

If you are writing Jason as having poor vision from albinism, he would KNOW he needs glasses. Literally everybody should know he needs glasses/is blind. He would likely be legally blind and would have been pretty much his entire life. He would also almost definitely have other eye conditions as well. (Also rip Jason being raised by the wolves, poor guy is gonna have the WORST sunburn)

People with albinism have different skin tones! And different hair colors! A lack of pigmentation looks different depending on your individual genes and what type of albinism you have! Look up photo references!!!!!

There is also a lot of fetishization of albinism. PLEASE BE RESPECTFUL when you are making headcanons about it, or creating/designing characters who are albino.

Here's a couple of short tiktoks that go over some basic information and other stuff about albinism if visual-auditory learning is more your jam: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] (Kayla_lud has a lot of videos going over information about albinism)

okay now everybody take your notes and go tweak your headcanons yeah? yeah. okay good.

[kurooangel]

too big, ── ft. suna r. ✦

smut. timeskip haikyuu. relationship established. not translate/repost my work anywhere. english is not my first language!! ,, masterlist. spanish vers. here!

even if you and rintaro have been dating for a few years, you still didn't get used to his size. it was too big.

"fuuuck..." you whined. his mouth leaving a path of wet, open-mouthed kisses on your neck. "baby, please... go slower"

he ignored your request and his hips rock against yours again, wildly and fiercely. the sound of your moans filling the bedroom everytime he fills your dripping cunt. you feel the tears budding up in your eyes and some of them falling down on your red cheeks.

"aw, sweetheart, are you crying?" he smirked and kissed your cheeks where the tears were falling. "you can take it, babe. c'mon, show me what a good girl you are." suna whispered against your lips before capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, slipping his tongue and interlacing it with yours.

he stopped moving and let you squeeze his cock, aching for more. you pulled back from the kiss and your teary eyes meet with his, your gaze full of lust matching his own.

"why did you stop?" you whispered, your voice a broken pleading and your nails digging into his back. "please, rin', keep going. please, please."

"just admiring the view. such a needy thing you are, sweetheart." he teased. his smirk widened and thrusted his cock against your core again, wildly, feeling your cunt hug him. "god, babe, you feel so good, so, so good." he groans.

suna's pace speeded even more and his thrusts getting rougher, his tip reaching your sweet spot again and again and again. your nails scratched his back all was down, leaving red lines by its path. he devoured your lips, his tongue invading your mouth without asking for permission, just because he can, just because you're his.

"rin, is too much, I'm gonna..." you gasp against his lips, feeling your ecstasy coming.

"shut up and take it, be a good girl" suna's voice is ragged, full of desire, and he keeps using your pussy without any mercy.

don't forget to like + reblog and let me know what you think ! love yall ♡♡

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

do we get to see the logan and wade conflict about writer!reader? i am loving the series so far!!!

Wade laid you on the couch carefully, "How the fuck did you not shred your feet?"

"I dunno-"

"And why the fuck did you lie to me?" he asked.

You shrug, "If I could have gotten a word in edgewise it might have been different. But you were so busy buying "world's okayest uncle" shit-"

"Calling myself the best is conceited."

"Fuck you." You give him a look and Logan can't see what passes between you. And he tries Not to go over there. Not to loom. But when you start crying again it takes a monumental amount of effort.

"Okay, okay I get it. I'm a fucking asshole," Wade said, pulling you into a hug and rocking you gently. "Please stop crying. Don't cry. Fuck-"

Logan quietly. It was the same tone of voice as a kid smacking the other to hard and saying "don't tell mom". Except neither of you ever really told your mom anything- Well. You didn't if you could help it anyway.

"Can't help it," you sniffle.

"If you don't stop crying, I'll cry," he teased, reaching over to pass you tissues.

"Why-"

"Because," Wade teased. "My baby sister is sneaky enough to hide a whole baby daddy- You really had me thinking it was that hack mystery writer."

"Ugh. He wishes."

______________

Logan knew he was being watched. Carefully. By everyone. And he tried not to take it personally. It was his own fault, anyway.

But- it didn't make it any easier to take care of you. At least not for him, he kept waiting for someone to yell at him. But. When you reached for him. Looking for HIM to help you or just to be close to him it helped.

"How're you feelin', Princess?" he asked, wrapping his arms around you in the kitchen.

"Like I could go back to bed," you yawn, pouring a cup of coffee. "But. I gotta get some work done. Come up with some bank account padding."

"Sleep okay?" he asked, kissing your shoulder. He'd been next to you. You'd been wedged between him and a pillow. But, that didn't mean you slept very much.

"Fine," you tell him, turning your head to look at him, "Just- still running numbers trying to make the math, math."

Logan shook his head and pulled you a little closer, tentatively laying his hand on your stomach- you were starting to get a little bump now. He'd felt it when he held you. But. He wanted. Well. What he wanted didn't really matter- you were hesitating about some things. He'd gotten heated kisses and he could smell the need; your hormones driving you up the wall. But he was trying to keep the ball in your court. Even if he'd love to take you back to bed and fuck the thoughts out of your head. Replace the needy painful ache you couldn't quite soothe with an ache that left you satisfied.

"I picked up some construction work," Logan said. "It's gonna be fine, Y/N."

"Logan-"

"I told you," he hummed. "I wasn't gonna be some fuckin' deadbeat and make you do it all." He cradled the little bump and bent his head to bury his face in your neck. Grateful you didn't push his hands away. " 's my baby," he said. "Gonna make sure they're taken care of."

"You're a good man for the worst Wolverine," you tell him.

He chuckled and hugged you a little tighter, "Gotta take care of my girl to take care of my kid," he reminded. He let go of you and went to his jacket, pulling out his wallet and a small wad of cash. "It's not a lot," he said. "Used a chunk to get some documents so I could get a bank account. But- Here" He held it out to you insistently.

"It's not that dire, Logan," you tell him, gently pushing it back. "I can manage for now-"

"Take it and get yourself something then," he said ignoring you and tucking it teasingly into your shirt between your breasts. Trying not to notice that your stomach wasn't the only thing looking a little rounder. "I'm not any good at picking out presents."

You feel your body flood with heat when his fingers brush the skin of your breasts and it's all you can do not to whine. "I- thank you," you murmur, kissing his cheek before you had to turn and leave the kitchen. Before you threw yourself at him.

Logan took a deep breath and let you go. The scent of your arousal making him feel weak-kneed. Ball in her court, he reminded himself. Maybe putting the cash in your tits was too much. But- he'd heard enough horror stories on daytime TV with Althea. He didn't want you thinking he didn't WANT to fuck you. And he didn't want you thinking that you weren't attractive to him. He'd made up his mind. This was his girl and his kid.

[asvtrials]

Hate that I want you, part ii

hate that I want you      masterlist

previous part      next part initial idea (part one): @floydsfae Tags: @ilovejeansosomuch @spikedfearn @soberbabes @victorysony @ellie1725 @lucycarlisleswife (I couldn't tag some of you sorry pookies) summary: Parting ways with a friend group was always hard, somehow trying to rejoin that group was even harder. Especially when a particular quick-tempered someone is rather bitter about your choices. warnings/tags: lots of swearing. friends to enemies to lovers. Bjorn is a bitter and jealous shit. angst a/n: I'm not very familiar with the Alien franchise so forgive me if there are any inaccuracies. English is not my first language so please be nice. Thank you for the wait, my internship just started so I didn't have much time. I tried to include Bjorn's accent a bit more. word count: 2415

You could've just gone home and drowned in your bed but instead, you let Tyler and Kay convince you to join them for drinks. Bjorn’s snarky comment was still replaying in your mind when you took a frozen beer bootle “Eh, yeh sure. Thanks, Tyler How coulda forget?” 

The metal steps were cold against your thighs, but you didn't feel like moving. You took a sip from your beer bottle—the bitter liquid burning your throat a bit—while you listened to the rest of the crew joke around.

You had to admit you missed this. Apart from Bjorn's occasional sharp looks everything brought you sweet memories from the countless times you stayed up till late to drink and chat.

You expected it to be uncomfortable, especially with Navarro, since she wasn't the most forgiving person. But it seems like your years of friendship did soften her.

She arrived after you, so you thought she'd ignore you completely and just move on with her night but she was quick to approach you with a smirk, giving you a light jab to the shoulder as she sat next to you.

"The fuck are you doing here?" Her voice held a playful tone.

You snorted. "Careful, you sound almost happy to see me."

Navarro tilted her head and raised a brow before uttering "Don't get your hopes up." with a laugh causing you to do the same. "So to who died and made you come here?" She asked before taking a sip of her beer.

You stalled by taking a sip of your own beer again. You didn't want to make things awkward by making the conversation so serious so fast, especially with Navarro who really disliked all that sappy shit.

"I get you." She said with a shrug before you could come up with a response.

You blinked. "What?"

"I get it. If I bagged anyone who had such a ‘promising’ future…” She dragged the word 'promising', copying the way you used to say it when you talked about him. “let's just say you wouldn’t be seeing me for a while" She joked but her words stung a bit.

"It's not like that..." You disagreed and the girl raised an unconvinced brow. "Really it's not. It's just—I tried to get that transfer to the kitchens, to get out of the mines, and all the time I had left I spent with Noa." You explained as you watched your friend take another sip from her beer nonchalantly. "I did miss you guys, really. Ask Kay, I always asked abo—"

"Jeez dude chill, I get it.” She cut you off, moving her eyes from her bottle to you, a small yet genuine smile flickered across her face “I'm glad you're back."

You stared at her, a wrinkle forming between your brows as you frowned, completely dumbfounded by her lack of care.

"Thanks..." You wanted to leave it at that but you knew Navarro, and this wasn't her. The Navarro you knew would give you the cold shoulder for weeks, you were so sure because you would've done the same. So you couldn't help but ask "Why aren't you like, you know, pissed at me?"

"Do you want me to be?" She asked while taking a cigarette she rolled earlier out of her pocket.

" 'Course not, I just expected you to be a little less...chill?" You ended up saying. Suddenly you turned to the girl with wide eyes. "Are you high? "

Navarro couldn't contain her laughter, some smoke puffing out if her nose.

"I'm not high, you moron. Just shit happened, you know. That kind of changed how I view things or whatever. You didn't abandon me and Bjorn when we needed you the most...I didn't forget that." She explained, taking another puff from her cigarette.

You knew what she meant. It wasn't that long ago since Bjorn's mother passed but you still remember hearing about it as if it happened yesterday.

You were finally at the checkout station, waiting for your turn when your eyes caught the small, old television in the corner of the wall. Tears welled up in your eyes as you watched the screen in the spacious checkout room show the face of the woman alongside the other two victims.

You found yourself at the doorstep of their trailer. Navarro's state was enough to destroy you. You were not used to seeing such a pained expression decorating the face of your usually laidback friend.

The younger girl was the only one you saw that day. Bjorn was nowhere to be found.

That was one of the few times you saw her in the past months and you really wished it didn’t need to go this far for you to drop everything and visit.

"Is Bjorn doing okay?" You asked her, not sure what you were expecting to hear.

The boy was awfully close with his mother. It was natural, she was the only parent he had. His dad was a deadbeat, abandoning them as soon as he found out he was going to be a father.

"He's better." Navarro confirmed.

"What happened was so fucked..." You comment, shaking your head in frustration.

"Yeah...i still don't know where was he that day" She confessed.

"You don't?"

"Nah, he wouldn't answer anyways."

Yeah, You could already see Bjorn dodging the question. You could also imagine him getting plastered at whatever bar he found.

Your eyes fell on the boy. He was laughing about something Tyler said until he met your eyes. His wide smile slowly turned into a small smirk, holding your gaze a bit longer before turning back to his cousin.

You chose to ignore the irritation that followed after he tore his gaze from you and focused on Navarro. You continued talking, about her life, about your life, then you moved on to stupid shit until it the usually shady sky was especially dark.

"Fuck it's gotten late." You mumbled, the beer bottles you chuged weren’t doing much to help you focus.

"Oh shit, yeah." Tyler cursed under his breath after checking his wrist watch.

Kay and Tyler didn't live too far from their cousin so they didn't really care. You on the other hand needed at least ten minutes to get to your apartment.

You stood up with a sigh and grabbed your jacket. "This was fun but I have an early shift tomorrow." You announced.

"You're gonna walk alone?" Kay asked concerned.

"You can crash at our place" Navarro offered.

"Yeah, you can." Bjorn spoke to you for the first time since you arrived here. You didn't need to hear his next words to know that he was going to say something stupid, his smug expression a clear sign. "We can share the couch, get all cuddly and stuff." He suggested, sending you an innocent look. 

You grimaced in disgust and wordlessly turned to leave, yet you could feel the blood rising to your cheeks. For a moment you thought he’d add a stupid ‘Like the good old times' or something.

"We can take you home." Tyler offered, standing up from his seat and Kay quickly followed.

"Yeah, it will be good to walk a bit." She assured with a warm smile, although her excuse was laughable. You bet both she and Tyler got enough exercise in the mines, and to your disappointment, the kitchen was no better.

Then the person you least expected to speak up silenced all of you. "Nah, I'll take 'er."

Everyone eyed the boy in either confusion or annoyance.

"No" Kay let out a breathy laugh, as if the boy's words were merely a joke. "We'll take her home."

Bjorn threw his hands with a huff and slumped in his chair. "Yall call me a wanker all the fuckin' time yet don't want me to be nice? Maybe I just wanna mend things between us, don’tya agree Y/n?"

"Oh spare me." You scoffed, sending him a disbelieving look. "You just wanna talk more shit about me and Noa and everything I did wrong. You just don’t want Tyler or Navarro to shut you up."

"Yeh, Like you'd hate that, darlin’. So quick to bite back." He said, a hint of a smile making an appearance. “Yer a bit of a shit talker yourself, don't ya think?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the way the corner of you mouth twitched upwards at the mention of the familiar nickname.

“Gosh, you're so annoying.” You grumbled but you had to admit it was nice talking to him normally again—or at least the idea of normal you and Bjorn adopted. You were sure this truce would be short-lived.

The boy ignored you and pushed himself up from the chair, capturing the blunt he was rolling between his lips.

“Let's get goin’, wouldn't want ya to miss your beauty sleep,” He mumbled with the cigarette in his mouth as he walked past you earning a glare from you.

He continued walking as if he wasn't even considering that you might not follow, knowing you too well. God, he was annoying.

“You kinda deserve this for dumping us” Navarro joked. You flipped her off but laughed a bit.

You followed him with a sigh, waving goodbye to your friends in the process.

“Please don’t kill each other.” Kay laughed, returning the wave.

Your walk was quiet, the only sounds accompanying the two of you were the crickets in the distance and the occasional puffs that Bjorn let out, the smoke enveloping the both of you. Sometimes you would hear the loud music and inaudible talking at a nearby bar but that was it.

It was frustrating. He was the one that insisted on taking you home and now he was the one refusing to speak. Bjorn was always hard to understand but he was especially hard since you came back.

You understood it was because he was angry that you left, abandoned them, abandoned him but then why demand on being around you so much?

But still his words from before—they made you think that there was something more than anger behind his behavior. The memory of the unexpected tenderness in his voice engraved in your mind.

Even if it wasn’t for the all years you knew him, that one moment would’ve been enough to want you to actually mend things between the two of you, even if Bjorn ridiculed the idea before.

“Thanks for doing this.” You attempted to sound as normal as you could.

“Sure.” He replied, not bothering to look at you.

You sighed trying to ignore the uncomfortable silence that clutched at the two of you like a veil.

“What?” The boy asked irritated.

“Nothing. It’s just weird, I guess.” You replied truthfully, too tired of playing all those mind games.

“Very observant, aren’t you darlin’” He chuckled and tossed the finished cigarette on the pavement.

“See, that’s weird.” You gestured toward him with a scoff. “You keep acting like an asshole, then call me darling and insist on taking me home.”

Bjorn ignored your words and just continued to walk to your house, his hand raising to rub the nape of his neck was the only indication of his own discomfort. 

You could already see your house from here but you weren’t done. You halted your movements in frustration, sending him an aggravated look. “Why are you acting like a little bitch?” You winced at your words as soon as they left your lips, you wished you had picked something more tactful to say.

Bjorn turned to face you, eyebrow raised and a sarcastic smile spreading on his lips. “Callin’ me a little bitch? Really? If anything I’m the only one that’s not actin’ like a little bitch.” The boy spat back, approaching you. “You left, for bloody two months, and expect everyone to run around and kiss your feet for blessing us with your presence?” He spoke, his words lacking the gentleness from the last time you had this conversation.

“What, is little Y/n sad that I’m angry at her?” You had to lift your head to hold his mocking gaze the closer he got to you. You swallowed thickly when he crouched a bit to get closer to your face. You should’ve felt uncomfortable, scared even but the way your stomach flipped was anything but uncomfortable.

“That’s not what I said.” You were disappointed at how weak your voice sounded and you weren’t sure if your narrowed eyes gave the harsh effect you wished for.

“Mhm? Go on then.” 

“If you’re so angry why are you taking me home, huh? I thought you wanted to talk shit but you were quiet the entire walk. What is it, just want to be blessed by my presence a bit longer?”  You asked and it was your turn to watch his jaw tense. 

Bjorn held your gaze for a long moment before ripping his icy eyes away from yours for a split moment, to regain his composure. However, it seems to be fruitless because when he turned back to you, his eyes held the same dark look to them. He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. Your brows furrow at his movements yet your body refuses to move an inch.

Without a word, he leaned closer and you swore you saw a quiet plea in his eyes. To be okay with this—No. To want this as much as he does.

Embarrassment is long forgotten when you open your lips ever so slightly, running your tongue over your bottom lip in anticipation as his hand slowly reached your flushed cheek, his fingers grazing the warm flesh.

“Jus’ wanted to show ya—” His hoarse voice ripped the silence “That I can make you feel like that, just by looking at you…” He whispered making you shudder. “I bet you haven't felt like this in a long time, eh?”

Dammit…You shouldn't feel like this. It was Bjorn for fucks sake. Stupid, loud, annoying Bjorn. Why was he making you feel like this? He never did before. 

Teasing, joking around, that was good, it was safe. You never wanted more. But now you felt like your body was about to burst into flames.

You only managed to say a quiet “You're a fucking dick…” 

A small smirk spread across Bjorn's face when he saw the tension in your eyes, matching his own yearning. He hoovered over you, lips barely touching when you heard an aggravating noise.

(i love reading your comments babes don't be shy)

[wooftisms]

can you guys (non-physicals) collectively agree to keep physicals and lycans out of your mouths please

i have seen SO many shit takes that r essentially:

"i'm not a physical or lycan and i know nothing about them but i still want a lot of reblogs on tumblr so i'm going to type up a really stupid sounding post and tag it clinical lycanthropy and hope no clinical lycanthropes see it because again, i know nothing about them or physical therians >3< i don't support physical therianthropy or clinical lycanthropy but you are still a super duper extra valid therian if you are infected with thinking you're physically an animal (you're not. lolol) by the way i am one of the good ones i'm not a dirty stinky clinical lycanthrope and i'm not a fake physical therian but you arw and ur valid and i love you my delusional little bean uwu heart emoji even if you are delusional and have a delusional delusion that you sre an animal (delusionally) it is ok as long as you are seeking treatment and ignoring your identity for my personal comfort you're welcome in the therian community kissy face paw emoji heart emoji"

so like you know how you can be normal. please do that instead of constantly talking about us. you sound genuinely bonkers saying "i don't suport clinical lycanthropes or physical therians but i respect them and they're still valid!! 🐾💗🐾💗🐾🥰" you literally sound like "i don't support gay people or gay rights but i respect them!! i just don't think it's natural :/"

tldr, shut up about physical therians and lycanthropes if you are non-physical. i promise the world will keep spinning if you keep whatever ally post you wanna make in the drafts

[kurara-black-blog]

That entire video (you know the one) could've been a phone call:

Thomas: *calls Lee and Mary Lee* Hey, friends! Sorry for the sudden call, but I got something important to talk about with you two— nothing, uh, drastic or anything, just. Yeah.

Lee and Mary Lee: Hi, Thomas! Sure, buddy, what's up?

Thomas: Well, you see... Do you guys remember that big production I talked about some time ago? Well, I just got a callback!

Friends: That's incredible, Thomas! Congratulations! We're so happy for you!

Thomas: Thank you, thank you! But, uhh... There is a problem. The day of the callback is– *deep breath* it's the same day as your wedding, and I don't think I'd be able to make it to both even if they weren't around the same time. So I'm calling because I've... I've been wondering if you guys would be too upset if I were to go to the callback? It's just—! It's a really big chance that I might not get again and I— I want to be there for you guys, I know weddings are also a one time in a lifetime thing and there will always be another production to try— and I promise, I promise I'll make it up to you guys after—!

Deceit, at the corner of the room for support: Thomas, you're rambling, please take a breath.

Friends: Thomas, buddy, calm down.

Thomas: Sorry.

Friends: It's ok. And, sure, we would be bummed if you weren't there, but are you kidding me?! You get a callback for that big production that'd be such a large step into your dreams and you think we'd want you to miss it?!

Thomas: Well...

Friends: Nope! You're going to that callback, mister, even if we have to drive you there from our wedding parlor! We can hangout after or something, maybe do an special event in one of our anniversaries, wink wink. It's ok, man, we'd hate for you to lose that chance, I think we'd be even more upset to see you at our wedding knowing you could've gone to the callback and gotten the role.

Thomas: I dunno about getting the role, but...

Friends: Oh, shut up, we know you will get it! You better tell us all about it after, ok?

Thomas: Ok, yeah, ok... Yeah! Yeah, thank you guys so much! And I'm sorry again, I just–

Friends: Started overthinking about what we'd think of you if you were to not go to our wedding to chase your dreams?

Thomas:... Yeah...

Friends: It's like we know you or something!

Thomas: Haha, yeah, it's like we've been good friends for many years!

Friends: Exactly! So don't you dare think we'd stop being your friends just like that, ok?

Thomas: Ok. Thanks again. I'll let you two go back to wedding planning now

Friends: Ugh, don't remind me. Bye, Thomas! Take care, love you!

Thomas: Bye, love you too!

Deceit: Would you look at that? It's almost as if drawing conclusions on how others will feel based entirely on your own rigid perception of right and wrong is counterproductive! But, no, that couldn't be, yes?

Patton: I'm so happy right now that I'm going to ignore the taunt and HUG THE STUFFING OUT OF YOU!!!

Roman: Can't believe I'm saying this but SAME!! COME HERE, SCALY SPAGHETTI!!

Janus: DO NOT—!

Thomas: Aaaaand there they go. Back to the mindspace, I guess. I'm sure they'll be back soon.

Virgil:... Twenty says they'll catch Janus in ten minutes.

Logan: Twenty says nothing, it's a number. But I bet it'll be five minutes. And it'll be Roman with a tackle.

[lvrgirlrey]

Hi there, can you do a Dazai x reader where she's the coffee shop owner's daughter returning from college and working there. She and Dazai are always bickering (mostly because of his ever growing tab) but beyond that they're kinda into each other???? Then like in that episode where those thugs attacked the coffee shop, she gets taken and Dazai is actively losing his shit. Ending with fluffy confessions. Please feel free to ignore if you can't

𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣’𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖: hello!! of course i can do that for you and thank you for requesting >v<

𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: none! hope you enjoy!

it had been a while since you'd come back home. college had swept you up into its relentless tide, but now that you were back, there was a strange comfort in returning to your family's coffee shop, *aroma's haven*. the familiar scent of roasted beans and warm pastries greeted you the moment you pushed through the door. it was peaceful, soothing... until the bell chimed again.

"ah, if it isn't my favorite college grad!" a familiar voice sang.

you rolled your eyes immediately, already knowing who it was. osamu dazai—self-proclaimed genius, infamous loafer, and perpetual thorn in your side. he leaned against the counter with that lazy, almost mischievous grin of his. it had only been a week since you'd returned, and he had made a habit of showing up like clockwork. every. single. day.

"aren't you supposed to be busy with agency work or something?" you sighed, wiping down the counter. "and don't even think about asking for coffee unless you're ready to pay for that massive tab you've racked up." he placed a dramatic hand over his heart, as if wounded by your words. "so cold! after all we've been through together—"

"you mean all the coffee you've stolen?" you interrupted. "dazai, i swear, i'm going to start charging you rent at this point."

he laughed, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "i can't help it. the coffee tastes better when it's from here... especially when you're the one making it."

there was a warmth in his tone, just a slight change that made your heart stutter for a beat. you masked it with a scoff and turned away, focusing on the coffee machine instead. dazai always had a way of throwing you off balance, with his lazy charm and soft words that always seemed to hold more meaning than they should.

"you know, i could just cut you off," you said, a bit more quietly now.

"you wouldn’t," he replied, voice dropping into something more sincere. "besides, where would you be without me to keep you entertained?"

you could feel his eyes on you, like a warm weight, and you couldn't resist a small smile. okay, maybe you were a little entertained. your bickering had become a part of your day—a strange routine that brought a spark of energy to the otherwise mundane hours behind the counter. "i could do without the headaches," you muttered.

"but you love it," dazai said, his voice playful once again. "you love our little back-and-forths. admit it."

you glanced over at him, meeting his gaze. something flickered between the two of you—something unspoken but undeniable. and for a moment, you almost said something. almost admitted that maybe he wasn't completely wrong.

but the door jingled again, and a group of customers entered, breaking the moment. you sighed, setting your shoulders and moving to help them. dazai slipped into his usual spot at a corner table, watching you with an unreadable expression.

later that evening, after the rush had died down and the café was quiet again, dazai lingered. you didn't mind. in fact, you were a bit used to him staying past closing hours, joking about anything and everything while you cleaned up. today, though, something felt off. there was a tension in the air that you couldn't quite shake.

"you alright?" you asked, catching him staring out the window, his usual carefree demeanor replaced by something more serious. he hummed, his eyes distant. "yeah. just... thinking."

"dangerous," you teased, trying to lighten the mood. but when his gaze shifted to you, all traces of humor vanished.

"you should be careful," he said softly. "there's been some... trouble in the area lately. i don't want anything to happen to you." your brow furrowed. "dazai, what are you—"

before you could finish, the door to the café was suddenly kicked open, slamming against the wall. a group of rough-looking men burst in, their faces twisted into ugly sneers. dazai was on his feet immediately, his posture tense, his usual playful smile gone.

"well, well," one of the thugs sneered, his eyes locking onto you. "look what we've got here."

your heart pounded in your chest. you could feel dazai's gaze on you, sharp and calculating. he was assessing the situation, already thinking a hundred steps ahead. but before he could make a move, one of the men lunged forward, grabbing your arm and yanking you toward him. "let's make this simple," the thug growled. "you come with us, and maybe no one gets hurt."

"dazai—" you gasped, struggling against the thug's grip, but his hold was too strong. dazai's eyes were dark, and there was something dangerous simmering beneath the surface. "let her go."

the thug laughed, clearly thinking dazai was no threat. "or what?"

before you could blink, dazai moved. faster than you thought possible. his hand shot out, grabbing the thug by the wrist and twisting it sharply. the man let out a howl of pain, releasing you instantly. dazai pulled you behind him, placing himself between you and the others.

"i don't think you understand," dazai said, his voice low and icy. "if you touch her again, you won’t live to regret it."

the men hesitated for a moment, clearly not expecting this side of dazai. but then one of them lunged, and everything erupted into chaos. dazai fought them off with ease—fluid and precise, like he had done this a million times before. you watched, wide-eyed, as he dismantled each of them, his movements almost graceful.

but even as he fought, his eyes kept darting toward you, as if making sure you were still safe. the moment the last thug hit the ground, dazai was by your side, his hands gripping your shoulders tightly.

"are you alright?" his voice was laced with a panic you hadn't heard before. you nodded, still a bit shaken. "yeah... i'm okay."

his hands didn’t leave your shoulders, his grip firm as if he was afraid you might slip away. his face was inches from yours now, his eyes intense in a way that made your heart skip a beat.

"i swear," he muttered, his voice rough, "if they had hurt you..."

"but they didn’t," you whispered. "i'm fine, dazai." for a moment, there was only silence between you two, the tension in the air thick. then, without warning, dazai pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest. his breath was warm against your ear, and you could feel his heart racing.

"don't scare me like that," he murmured, his voice softer now, almost pleading. "i don't know what i'd do if something happened to you."

you were frozen for a moment, stunned by the vulnerability in his voice, in his touch. slowly, you wrapped your arms around him, letting yourself relax into his embrace. "you don't have to worry about me," you said quietly, your heart pounding in your chest. "i'm tougher than i look."

he chuckled softly, but there was no humor in it. "yeah, well, you scared the hell out of me tonight."

you pulled back just enough to look up at him, your eyes meeting his. for the first time, there was no teasing smile, no playful glint in his eyes. he was just... dazai. raw and unguarded. "why?" you asked softly. "why do you care so much?"

his eyes searched yours for a moment before he sighed, his breath shaky. "because i..." he paused, his brow furrowing as if the words were difficult to say. "because i think i might love you."

your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him. his confession was so simple, so quiet, yet it hit you harder than anything else he had ever said.

"oh," you whispered, feeling your cheeks heat up.

"oh?" he repeated, and for the first time that night, a hint of his usual playful smile returned. "that's all i get? just 'oh'?"

you rolled your eyes, trying to hide your own smile. "you know what i mean."

he laughed softly, the sound warm and familiar, and before you could think of a response, he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in the softest, most delicate kiss. it wasn’t rushed or desperate—it was just... right. when he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and you could feel his smile.

"i think you might love me too," he teased.

you sighed, but there was no bite to it. "maybe i do," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "but don't get cocky about it."

his smile widened, his eyes shining with something that looked suspiciously like happiness.

"too late," he murmured, pulling you back into his arms, holding you close. and in that moment, you let yourself relax completely, feeling safer and warmer than you had in a long time. you'd never admit it to him, but maybe... just maybe... you liked having him around after all.

[awriterinthenight]

"I'm Sorry"-Anthony Lockwood

Warnings: Swearing, Kissing, talks of gruesome death, small talk about abusive and abusive lovers, and arguing

***

"Why can't you just listen to me," I screamed while pacing in the kitchen.

"It wasn't that big of a deal, love," Anthony said, brushing off what I had been trying to tell him for the past hour.

I groan in frustration, "Maybe not to you, but to me it was," I say angrily at him, "I don't appreciate the fact that you can't put away your petty differences with Kipps, and not cause a massive scene in public," I say referring to earlier when Lockwood and Kipps had a run in with each other as we were leaving the archive. You would think two almost adults can just ignore each other and act civil, but alas no they can't. They both started insulting each other making their dumb jabs, as a crowd of people were watching, which gives our agency a bad rep.

He breathes out a sigh before speaking, "It was one time, and it wasn't like we started actually fighting each other," he says much to calmly for my liking.

"But, it wasn't just one time. You've done this before, and I know you'll do it again, no matter what I say," I yell raising my voice a bit, "You starting a contest of who can come up with the worse insult, gives our agency a bad reputation, since people will think that our head of the agency, is some asshole who has anger issues and can't talk to people," I say, a bit more bitterly than I mean to.

He starts to speak, but I cut him off, "Save your breath, I'm going to bed before I end up yelling at you all night," I say tired from our long day, and all of my yelling.

I head back to my room and lie on my bed. Maybe I was being a bit harsh, but I loved this agency. I didn't want to see us lose business and have to close down because Lockwood couldn't help but start a pissing contest when he ran into Kipps.

Eventually I fell into a dreamless sleep.

***

I was awoken by a knock on my door.

Please don't be Lockwood, please don't be Lockwood. I chanted in my head, not wanting to talk to him this early in the morning after our fight.

Luckily it was just Lucy waking me up to tell me to get ready for the day, since we were going to Satchell's to pick up supplies for tonight. I reluctantly got up after Lucy promised me coffee if I did.

I threw on basic clothes, consisting of jeans, one of my favorite shirts, and a jacket. Then I did my hair opting for (insert favorite hairstyle here), and makeup consisting of (insert makeup routine here).

When I was done I went downstairs to find Lucy waiting my the door. I was tugging my boots on and tying the laces on the second one when I saw Lockwood walking towards us. Not wanting to talk to him, I quickly exited the house, dragging Lucy with me.

"I knew you guys had a fight, but I didn't know it was so bad you're avoiding him now," she said, being generally concerned for me and Lockwood.

I took a heavy sigh before saying, "I'd rather not talk about it." Lucy just nods, understanding how I feel currently.

***

When me and Lucy arrive home, we find George and Lockwood preparing our stuff. I don't even look at Lockwood as I help George pack up our kit bags for the night. Lockwood tries to talk to me, but I brush him off, not wanting him to make me feel worse before a case.

Our cab ride was silent, except for George going over our research. I sat in the front seat tuning George out, since I had heard it all about a thousand times.

When we finally arrived at the old house we all get out, and let ourselves in, since the lady didn't want to be near the house, and just gave us the key instead. We started making tea going over the research one last time, and going over our plans. Originally me and Lockwood would be together, but George sensing the tension between us, switched it so I was with Lucy, and he was with Lockwood. Me and Lucy would take the basement, and Lockwood and George would take the second floor, since we determined the haunting was definitely not on the ground floor.

We split ways when the clock struck 6, and me and Lucy started our descent to the basement. I felt along the walls looking for something to jump out at me, as Lucy stood and listened for anything useful.

"You got anything Lucy," I asked after a few minutes.

She shook her head, "Not much, just what seems like a light sound that I can't make out coming from that wall," she said, pointing to the wall in front of her. I put my hand on the wall trying to feel something. My breathing started to slow, and it felt like my throat was being restricted.

It wasn't the worst, and I could still breath, so the source was most likely upstairs around the same area I was. "Do you remember the what room was above here," I ask, looking up at the ceiling.

"Uhh, I think it was a bedroom," Lucy said, quite unconfidently.

"Well let's hope Lockwood and George find it soon. The fact that I we can feel it from all the way down here doesn't seem like a good sign, and I definitely don't want to stick around to meet it's ghosts," I tell Lucy.

Suddenly we heard a loud thump from upstairs. Me and Lucy looked at each other, before running upstairs.

'Shit'

There at the top of the stairs was Lockwood slumped against the wall, his head lolling to the side, while George was fighting off the ghost in the other room. "Lucy go help George, I'll make sure Lockwood is alive," I say frantically.

Lucy follows my directions, running to help George. "Come on wake up," I kept repeating, while trying to shake Lockwood awake. After a minute or two of trying to wake Lockwood he was still in his comatose state. Lucy was now yelling out to me that they needed help. Lockwood was still breathing, and Lucy was in need of assistance, so I left Lockwood and ran towards the room where Lucy and George were.

"She isn't appearing as much, so we think we tired her out a bit, but hurry up and find the source," George uttered, urging me to find the source quick. I wasted no time feeling along the walls looking for the source. I felt a pull towards a certain spot. There was a little outline and what looked like an opening on the wall. I took out a pocket knife and cut at that part of the wall.

Once I got it open, unluckily for me, the ghost had come back almost ghost touching me, as Lucy quickly ran her rapier through the ghost. But even then she kept showing up again, and again. I pried my knife into the wall, opening a small part of it, where a necklace was hidden.

The second I touched the necklace I was hit by the feeling of not being able to breath, and was suddenly seeing the death play out. The ghost was a lady who had been murdered by what seemed to be an abusive lover, who strangled her to death with the necklace in my hands.

Suddenly the ghost was gone, and we all looked around in relief. Unfortunately we celebrated a bit too early because now she was in the hall closing in on Lockwood. I quickly pulled out the iron net, wrapping the source in it, before Lockwood could get ghost touched. She was only inches away from Lockwood as she disappeared.

I quickly dropped the source running towards Lockwood. I kept trying to shake him awake, and saying his name repeatedly hoping he would wake up. When his eyelids fluttered open I hugged him tight as he ran his fingers through my hair comfortingly.

"I'm alright, love. You got the source and I'm ok," he reassured me.

Lucy help out a hand saying, "Come on let's get out of here, and patch you up." Lockwood took her hand as I help him up, and then down the stairs where the night cab was waiting.

We made it home after a silent cab ride. Everyone tiredly put their rapiers and boots away. I was heading upstairs to my room, when I passed Lockwood who was just about to close the door to his room.

"I'm sorry," I said a bit quietly, "I shouldn't have yelled at you yesterday," I say, taking a step closer, so that I was in front of his room now only steps away from entering.

He turned around and slid his hand through my hair, "I'm sorry, love. You have nothing to apologize for, you were right I should be more mature about my encounters with Kipps, and I promise, no, I swear I will be more mature from now on," he promises me.

I move his hand so I can kiss the palm of his hand, "I'm just glad you're ok," I say softly.

We're now so close we can feel each other's breathes, as we look at each other. He closes the gap between us, pressing our lips together. The kiss is soft, and gentle as his hand stays in my hair, and the other goes to my waist.

"Why don't you stay in here tonight, if you want to," Anthony suggests as we pull apart.

I smile softly, "I would love to," I say, as he pulls me into his room.

[clanes]

Hi! I'm Revy, I'm a disabled trans woman who's looking for evn just a micro of assistance.

My free loaner wheelchair is currently getting serviced, and it's been getting harder for me to keep up with the maintenance required to keep myself mobile.

I've been looking into a more permanent alternative, and I found a decently cheap electric wheelchair that'd suit my needs.

I'm not entirely liquid at the moment, so I'm trying to see if there's anyone available to help pitch in even a little bit towards this.

If you can spare anything.

You can send some money to my PayPal (please ignore my dead-name, lmao)

This is $750 CAD mind you, so if you're using USD, please don't provide more than you're willing to part with!

[thetrueharmony]

Hello there, citizens of Rotomblr. It is I, the one and only Ghetsis Harmonia. I was told this was the 'place to be' by some of my friends and I couldn't just stay away after being told that, now could I? I believe the pronouns I use are called he/him. And no, I am not wanted in Unova, whoever says otherwise is lying. Nobody likes a liar. I was also told my kids were on here, now isn't that great! I truly hope they've all become less of a disappointment.

Oh and of course, you can't forget my pokemon. I still have my full team, do not worry! Cofagrigus Bouffalant Seismitoad Bisharp Eelektross and finally, my beloved Hydreigon.

Hello there, Hello there!! Im the mod here for this wonderful blog! This is my second time ever playing a canon character, and I haven't touched B2/W2 in years, so Ghetsis might be a little OOC! I will do my absolute best to keep in line with his canon character. I also have my own mix of head canons for him. PLEASE, if you read nothing else down below, read the trigger warnings. That is a requirement if you ever want to set up an event or character connections/relationsips. You may feel free to call me Alexander or Alex! I really don't care at this point ^^' I go by he/they, and whatever neos you want just not it/its, please! Mun is 16! Ghetsis may be an old man, but I am not!!

ANY INTERACTION IS ALLOWED! Pelliper mail/malice : Allowed

Musharna mail/malice : Allowed, but nothing about nsfw topics

Mystery gifts: Allowed

Magic anons : Allowed In character hate/anon hate : Allowed, encouraged even! Ooc questions : Allowed

ANYONE is allowed to interact here! Whether you're fallers, eery deebys, hybrids, ocs, self-inserts, etc, you are welcomed here! I love any type of interaction.

Please discuss anything offscreen with me beforehand before you do anything. THIS IS AN IMPORTANT BOUNDARY.

BOUNDARIES

Mod is 16, Ghetsis is in his early 40s. Suggestive stuff is fine, nsfw is not. Anything that I personally find uncomfortable will be ignored and deleted.

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Experimentation, Mentions of war crimes, Mentions of terrorism, emotional abuse or manipulation, alcohol abuse, mentions of child abuse (<- very rare) List always subject to change.

[funnier-as-a-system]

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[ravenclod]

DISC: this 'essay' is NOT hating on madohomu, or hating on people for shipping them. nor is it hating on Homura, or implying that her actions should be changed. It is simply an opinion from someone who loves Homura's character who also ships Madohomu, and just wants to rant about things i feel are ignored by the fandom. Please read the full thing before reblogging or replying with your opinions so i dont need to repeat myself.

Maybe I'm just a hater, but I don't understand how people can look at Homura and just excuse everything she’s done, especially in regards to Madoka, because she "actually loved everyone!” and "Is traumatised" and "It’s just toxic yuri!". It feels like a complete ignorance of her character and disregards the complexity and depth of her writing.

Now, obviously, I don't mean when people make jokes about it, I get that, but it’s when people genuinely don't acknowledge how madohomu is unhealthy and homura is a bad person. That is quite literally the whole point.

I'm aware that she does care about the other girls, which is why she didn't try to kill Mami in rebellion, and just acted like the others didn't matter throughout the show because she was all out of hope and had to concentrate on the one thing keeping her sane, which was Madoka. But that is exactly my point. That obsessiveness, that reliance on one singular person [ who is also largely unaware of the reason for said reliance ] is incredibly unhealthy. It is unhealthy. It is toxic. I'm not saying homura is abusive, like some people have, because she absolutely is not, but she is obsessive to the point of being unable to see madoka in a negative way. Even when she criticises her it’s from a "you're so stupid you can’t tell that people love you/you’re so stupid for doing this you're gonna get hurt" point of view, rather than the view of "oh you are genuinely naïve and mess up like everyone". [1] This in turn harms both of them, as she is putting her on a pedestal which Madoka will feel guilty for being on and worry about upholding, and it ruins Homura as she will simply spiral further into this unhealthy mindset.

She takes her [ Madoka’s ] word to the extreme, the word of which has no form of context and is speaking from the equivalent of the naïve Madoka that we see in the first episode. Homura then uses that to justify what she goes on to do during Rebellion, which in turn harms Madoka. when she rips Madoka from herself, I understand it's to avoid the incubators getting to her, and it is very in character, but she still actively harmed Madoka, and went against her wish to save all magical girls [ from becoming witches ] at least, in part.

Her obsessiveness does then leech off and affect everyone else, because she is also friends with them and does care for them. They begin to lose respect and gain upset over Homura, as she is now a girl who has one goal and throws them to the side to achieve this, not attempting to make genuine connections and discarding those which she does have - namely Kyoko in the show. This behaviour affects the other girls in the obvious sense of they die quicker and more frequently as Homura is no longer attempting to intervene; affecting Madoka too, as she ends up getting stressed about her friends not getting along, before then having the trauma of seeing her friends die. [ This is not to put the blame on Homura as it happens regardless, but the point is for everyone else, it will seem like Homura could have helped, even if it was out-with her power.] This will harm Homura as a result, for it will plague her how she treats her friends like this, and will only cause her self-esteem to plummet further than it already has.

Additionally, there are points where she could be argued to be manipulative, which is up to personal judgement, but it is worth noting. Obviously, it would not be from her own awareness or intention, but it is still a plausible outcome of her actions - i.e., the way she speaks to Madoka in the show, almost threatening her before then sobbing over her and acting like she is the most important girl in the world, [2] which, keep in mind, will be weird for Madoka as she barely knows this girl. This isn't to say Homura's actions aren’t understandable, especially in the show, but that doesn't remove the negative impact that they have. Homumado may be cute, and it is cute, especially pre-timeloop, but the reality is, even now, it wouldn't work without years and years of couple therapy.

I also am going to mention kyosaya, as they are also unhealthy, and I know someone may try to bring up how I love them so much in spite of this fact. They are definitely not the most healthy relationship, literally trying to kill each other in a fight in the first episode they met. It is practically impossible to ship characters in this show and have a healthy relationship [ with maybe the exception of madosaya pre-timelooping ]. However, the difference between kyosaya and madohomu is my general issue altogether, which isn't that the ships are unhealthy, but rather the way the fandom treats them in regards to them being such.

Kyosaya is known for being enemies to lovers, its known for being unhealthy and its known for being liked in the theory of "oh this is what they could have been, had they been given more time to understand each other.". It is also an equal relationship, there are no forms of power dynamic between the two, both are equally vulnerable; both hate the other at the start, and respect and care for one another at the end - as seen in rebellion. Even when Kyoko is stronger than Sayaka, that's cancelled out by Sayaka's determination and healing properties.

Homumado, on the other hand, are known for being equally doomed, but in the sense of "Oh Homura will never save Madoka, Madoka will always die, they can never be together.". There is never that acknowledgement that they wouldn't work, even if by some miracle the looping ended. There is simply too much that has happened. The only possible scenario is arguably one in which Madoka stays as Madokami, and Homura stays as the devil, for at least both have equal memories of all that has transpired, but even that has huge issues due to Homura's abandonment issues and obsessiveness toward madoka. There is also, unlike in kyosaya, a large power imbalance, which goes both ways at different points.

In the main show, this is heavy on Homura, as she knows so much about Madoka, she's seen her at her best and worst, and she knows all that will happen. She is also stronger than her, as for the most part Madoka is not a magical girl, and is unable to do anything to prevent her friends’.

Flip that to when Madoka is god however, and she is now the topheavy one, as she is fully aware of everything that has transpired. and Homura is so obsessive. If madoka were anyone else, it could very quickly turn bad with Madoka manipulating Homura's infatuation - which obviously isn't an issue as madoka is so nice, but you get my point.

It is a point though that homura still has power over madoka, especially considering her removal of "Madoka" from "Madokami". She technically has a part madoka all for herself, and has relative power over that for the time being. No one is able to do anything. It’s almost like she’s controlling a doll, except the doll is a piece of madoka she’s refusing to let return to the rest of her.

This is what I mean when I say there is no form of permanent equity between the two, while kyosaya are a yin and yang of give and take, madohomu are simply always off balance. Which is why they're so unhealthy.

Again, that doesn't mean they're not a good ship. That doesn't mean they're not cute, and they don't deserve to be together. It could 10000% work out, just as kyosaya is also toxic but could still work out. My issue isn't with the ship, the writing, or the characters, but rather the disregard to the discussions surrounding it.

To paint Homura as a "cute girl who's a bit obsessed” is a disservice to the complexities of her actions and her humanity, as again, she is a heavily traumatised 14 year old girl. Her actions are realistic, her actions make sense. But her actions aren’t good. This is not a critique on Homura, but a critique of the denial that she has done these bad things. denying as such waters her down and mischaracterizes her. It defeats the point of her as a character.

After all, she is the devil. She’s not intended to be nice.

[1] - "How stupid can you possibly be" - episode 5

[2] - fountain scene, episode 8, where she breaks down in front of madoka