#inhuman asf

[zhonglisbeloved]

TW: extreme violence, r@pe, murder. I'm ashamed to be a part of such a disgusting society. PLEASE REBLOG AND SHARE

India's 78th Independence Day? did we trade one prison for another because this is the state of women in our country. please spread the word, our government is shit and we as humans must do everything we can to raise awareness of the horrors. below are two images, one shows a list of terrifying crimes and the other is the brief autopsy report of a doctor who was r@ped and murdered on duty in Kolkata. her death was called "suicide" by the government, they destroyed the evidence under the guise of "renovation" because a politician's son was allegedly involved. this is something way worse than injustice, this is absolutely inhuman. Help spread the word, we will not stand for this.

[zhonglisbeloved]

writing fanfictions is often times a coping method too, I can list infinite times when I thought of plots or stories where I would mention or include a character's past trauma and then including comfort in it, this especially happens when its something I personally relate to (this isn't just limited to the Aventurine fanfic situation).

Just because an author writes about trauma does not mean that they condone it or support it (unless they admit it themselves which is a different story). Sending death threats over fiction is just unbelievably inhuman and low. The same goes for all the dark romance haters out there who don't even bother understanding, so lets just reinforce one of the very obvious things, if you don't like it, don't read it.

oh and blocking is free and accessible to everyone!

The Aventurine fanfiction drama is so weird. Yeah, you can have your personal morality balance and whatnot, but God forbid you send people death threats over fanfiction.

Sure, a good solution to this is to just avoid mentioning his past— namely, the time when Aventurine was a slave— but quit outright attacking these people for stuff like this. Look, I'm glad you want to be the better person, but how better of a person are you when you attack people who haven't even done anything to you?

I especially want to mention the author who wrote a fanfiction where the reader HELPS Aventurine. You don't like it because it mentions slavery? Fine, don't read it, not like it's even condoning slavery. I've seen their response, but I haven't read the fanfiction because they were forced to take it down for immense criticism and death threats. What happened to “if you don't like it, don't read it?” I'd understand if people didn't like it if it was condoning slavery (as long as there wouldn't be threats and insults involved), but it's not— quite the opposite of that, actually.

TL;DR?

Quit being horrible people to the authors who wrote fanfiction. It may be immoral, but what's worse is people sending death threats and saying terrible things to these people.

(also leave the person who wrote the fanfic where the reader helps aventurine when he was enslaved. they meant ABSOLUTELY no harm).

[ddejavvu]

sirius black is such a slut for attention. i like the idea of him CONSTANTLY begging for attention from the reader. like, even if they’re not together, he’s just being annoying asf, poking them, always talking to them, just being dramatic because sirius is nothing if not an attention whore

Talking to Remus is very difficult when Sirius is also in the room. Or rather, in the vicinity, because you're outdoors now, sprawled out on the dewy green grass by the lake. You're laying on Sirius's robes, the red lining soft against your skin as you protect yourself from getting wet. He'd offered his robes up immediately, laying them out over the lawn before you could protest.

"-but it's in chapter three." You enjoy Remus's rapt attention, the way his gold-flecked eyes observe you while you talk about the book you're reading. Not many other people are willing to listen, so Remus is a treat to speak with. "It's a tiny little detail, y'know, but when you get to the plot twist and you look back on the rest of the story, it's like, shit, it was right in front of me the whole time and I never noticed!"

Remus smirks, nodding along, "I love stories like that. There was this one that I read, where-"

"Y/N!" Sirius's voice barks from across the lawn, "Y/N, look!"

You squint against the sun while searching for Sirius's lanky form on the grass. You locate him by the shore of the lake, and you shout back, "I'm looking!"

He skips a stone over the water, and Remus snorts. He's like a toddler, promising an inhuman feat of strength, then opening a water bottle.

"Very impressive, Sirius." You gush, injecting sweetness into your voice that the man deserves. He grins at your praise, and if he were transformed, his tail would be wagging, you're sure of it.

"-anyways. I read this one story - a murder mystery. And the main character steps over a yellow shirt on their floor that they assume belongs to their roommate on the first page. Well come to find out, the victim was wearing a yellow top the night she was taken, but it was gone when she was found. First page, they give it to you, and you just don't notice until-"

"Y/N!"

Remus inhales deeply at Sirius's call, biting the inside of his cheek while you turn to see his friend once more.

"Yes, Sirius?"

"My stone skipped across the pond farther than James's did."

"Well done," You croon, as Remus snickers, "Maybe you should try out for the quidditch team, Sirius. Give James a run for his money."

"Hey!" James snaps incredulously, "You said I was a fantastic player!"

You're happy to take the time that James and Sirius use dissolving into a wrestling match to turn back to Remus, "That book sounds great. I can lend you a 'buried lede' book like that, if you want? One that I haven't spoiled for you."

"I'd love to read it," Remus beams, "I'll be on high alert, though, trying to figure out-"

"Y/N!"

Remus gives up. He groans, smearing a hand down the length of his face, "Never mind!"

"What, Sirius?" You shove gently at Remus's shoulder, fond of his dramatic antics, "What is it?"

Sirius grins at you with dirt smeared against his cheek, and several blades of grass stuck in his mop of hair as he pins James down to the lawn, "I won."

[happy74827]

Conflicted, Yet Certain

[Albert Wesker x Agent!Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Tension rises when you refuse to do what Wesker orders. The result? Well, it's nothing short of explosive {GIF Creds: @monsieurphantom}.

WC: 2611

Category: Spice/Lime, Insane Amount of Sexual Tension {TW: Choking, Slamming into Trees (lmao), Wesker being a lil bitch}.

I’m going to be so real with all of you rn. I’m not a complete stranger to Resident Evil; I know some things (most all relating to Leon and Ethan 😏), but in terms of Wesker… yeah, I dunno THAT much. I did lots and lots of Google research solely because I discovered him through an edit (I’m also aware of the Separate Ways DLC, too, don’t worry), and he’s cool asf. So, bada boom, this oneshot was born.

And I don’t want to toot my own horn, but I think I pretty much nailed him. Personality-wise, that is. And @yoursacredqueenmother, don’t you come for me. You knew this was going to happen.

So, with that out of the way, enjoy this fic that I spent way too much time on :)

『••✎••』

It was like a gush of wind. One minute, you were staring into the dark abyss of his shades, free to move, and the next, you were against a tree with a firm hand gripping your neck. No matter how many times you were reminded of his inhuman strength, it always caught you off guard.

"I asked you a question,"

Wesker was standing so close that your bodies were almost touching, his grip tightening every second that passed without a response. His free hand moved from his side to rest on the knife on his hip. Your eyes moved down to the weapon, and he let out a low, almost guttural, chuckle.

"What, are you afraid?"

He pressed the blade against your cheek. The cold steel made your skin burn, and you winced as it cut into your skin. He held it there, watching you struggle. You didn’t try to push him away or escape the pain, but you didn’t give him the answer he was looking for, either.

You looked up at him stiffly and gave him a look that was equal parts hate and disgust. He was always playing these games, pushing you, taunting you, testing you. You knew he wanted you to react, to show him that he had any effect on you.

He removed the knife from your face, and you exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Wesker didn't remove his hand from your neck, though. Instead, he ran his glove-covered fingers across your cheek, wiping away the blood from the small cut he caused.

"I expected better of you," He paused, and you felt his nails dig into your skin, "And, more importantly, I expected my orders to be followed."

Your heart skipped a beat as you heard the unspoken threat in his words. You couldn’t stop the shudder that went through your body, and the scariest thing about the whole situation was that you weren’t sure if it was fear or arousal.

His grip on your neck loosened, and you relaxed, letting your head fall forward slightly. You knew that, at this point, Wesker was just waiting for an answer, and you had nothing left to lose by giving it to him.

"I won't do it."

"Excuse me?"

He tightened his grip on your neck and lifted your head up to look him in the eye. Your heart raced, and you could feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins.

"I won't do it. You can't make me."

Wesker scoffed and took a step back, letting go of you completely. You took a deep breath and watched him intently, waiting for him to strike again.

He didn’t, surprisingly. He just stood there, looking at you. It was a real pain how he could see right through you, and all you had were his damn glasses.

"You can't make me," You repeated. It was shocking how much confidence you had in that statement, especially given that Wesker could break you in half if he wanted to, but despite everything, you were defiant.

He tilted his head, his lips curved into a smirk. His posture was casual, and, while you were still tense, his attitude was the complete opposite of what it was a few minutes ago.

"I think you'll find that I can."

There was no trace of the threatening, sadistic man you were so used to dealing with. Instead, he was calm, almost charming, but it didn't change the fact that you didn't trust him for a second.

He took a step towards you and then another. Before you could move, his hand was on the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

"You will do as I say because if you don't," He paused and leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. "Chris will be the one who has to deal with your mistakes."

It was a low blow, and, as much as you wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, you knew he was right. There was no way you were going to put Chris in any kind of danger. Not now. Not ever.

Wesker chuckled. The sound was dark and full of amusement. He was enjoying the power he had over you, and you hated it.

"You'll do what I say, won't you?"

You didn't reply, but it didn't matter. You were both aware that he was right. He knew that, no matter what, you would follow his orders. He knew that if it came down to it, you would give up everything for the sake of protecting Chris.

You felt Wesker's hands loosen, and he stepped away, putting some distance between the two of you. He seemed pleased with your decision, his smirk growing wider as he watched you.

"Now, go and prove yourself useful, my dear," Wesker commanded, the amusement gone from his voice.

He turned his back to you and began to walk away, but you couldn’t leave it like that. You couldn't just stand there and watch him leave.

You rushed forward and grabbed his arm, an act that he fully expected and allowed but not one that was welcome. He spun around and grabbed your wrist, twisting it painfully. If he weren’t so precise in his movements, he would have broken it.

You didn’t bother tugging or fighting his grip. You just stood there and stared up at him, waiting for him to say something.

He didn't. Instead, he just looked down at you. It was a different kind of stare. Not one that was filled with amusement or anger but curiosity. He was curious about what you were doing. He was curious about what kind of game you were trying to play.

"I'm not afraid of you."

Wesker raised an eyebrow. You could almost hear the sarcasm in his voice when he spoke.

"Oh, I'm well aware."

He released your wrist, his touch lingering longer than necessary. You flexed your fingers and rubbed at the spot where he grabbed you, trying to ease the ache.

You weren't afraid of him, but that didn't mean that you weren't intimidated by him. It didn't mean that you weren't cautious. After all, he was stronger and faster than you, and his control was unmatched.

"Why don't you go run along to Redfield now, Agent," Wesker said, his tone almost teasing, "I'm sure he'll be delighted to hear of your obedience."

You didn't wait around to listen to any more of his taunts. Something took over, something that made you do something really, really stupid.

You walked straight up to him, no words spoken, no thoughts shared, just pure, unadulterated instinct. Inches away from him, you pushed yourself up onto the tips of your toes and smacked your palm against his cheek.

His head snapped to the side, his eyes most likely wide, and his mouth slightly parted. The slap didn't hurt, or at least, it didn't affect him physically, but it was enough to shock him. He didn't expect that.

He turned his gaze back to you, his jaw clenching and his fists balled up. His shoulders tensed, and you could see the annoyance written all over his face.

"Do it again."

Stern and cold, his voice was low and full of warning. A part of you told you to walk away, to get out of there while you still had the chance, but the other part of you refused.

Your hands trembled slightly, but you didn't back down. You’ve been holding it in for so long, so agonizingly long, and this was your chance to do something, to let go, even if it was just for a second.

For once, you didn't care about the consequences, or the punishment, or the fact that, at that moment, Wesker could very well kill you.

You slapped him again. Tried to, anyway. He was too fast, and before your hand could reach his face, he grabbed your wrist again. He pulled you forward, twisting your arm behind your back, and held you against him.

His other hand was on the back of your head, forcing it up so that you were looking him straight in the eyes. Except, again, you couldn’t. Not with those fucking sunglasses in the way.

He leaned down, his lips only a few inches from yours. You could feel his breath on your skin, warm and heavy, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

"Do it."

This time, there was no malice or mockery in his voice. No, he wasn't telling you to hit him. He was giving you permission.

Your heart was racing, and your legs felt weak. It was so much, and you weren't sure how much more you could take. You hated him, God, did you hate him.

But, at the same time, there was something about him that drew you in. Something that made your pulse quicken, and your stomach churn. Something that made your head spin and your palms sweat. Something that made you want him, even if you didn't want to admit it.

And, as much as you hated him, as much as you loathed him, you couldn't help but want him.

He was a monster. He was evil. He was everything you had spent years fighting against, but there was no denying the attraction you felt towards him.

The heat of his body was overwhelming, and the smell of him, a mix of leather and gunpowder, was intoxicating. His grip on your hair tightened, forcing you closer, and you were sure he could hear the way your breathing hitched.

"Come on, dear," He taunted, that mocking, sinister tone back in his voice, "Don’t tell me you're losing your nerve."

That was it. That was all it took. You didn’t know what came over you, but suddenly, your hand was on the back of his neck, and you were crashing your lips against his.

It was messy and rough, and there was so much anger, hate, and lust behind it. Wesker returned the kiss, his lips moving against yours, and he let go of your hair and the arm he had pinned behind your back.

His hands moved to your waist, gripping tightly, and you grabbed a fistful of his hair. He let out a low growl deep in his throat and pushed you backward.

The next thing you knew, your back was once again thrown against the nearest tree. It wasn’t as painful this time, mostly due to the adrenaline coursing through your veins and Wesker taking the initiative to move his arm to the back of your neck to soften the impact.

The bark was rough against your skin, and the scent of pine was strong, but none of it mattered. Not with the way his hands found your thighs, lifting them up to wrap around his waist.

Not with the way his teeth bit and nipped at your bottom lip, drawing blood. Not with the way his tongue soothed the wounds, tasting the coppery fluid.

Not with the way his hips rolled against yours, drawing out a moan from the back of your throat.

Wesker pulled away and trailed kisses along your jaw, moving to the side of your neck. You gasped and bucked your hips as his teeth scraped against the sensitive flesh.

He chuckled, the vibration of his voice against your skin making your head spin, and moved his hand from the back of your neck to hold the sides of your face.

He was so close. You could feel the heat radiating off of him, the warmth of his body contrasting the cool air around you.

You wanted to reach up and rip those fucking sunglasses off his face to finally see what was hidden behind them. You wanted to look him in the eyes, to see what kind of expression was on his face.

You wanted to know if he felt the same way you did, the same fire, the same desire.

You wanted to know if he hated you as much as you hated him.

Instead, you ran your fingers through his hair, grabbing and tugging at it, causing him to growl against your neck. His lips were still on your skin, sucking and biting at the delicate flesh, and his hands were exploring every inch of you.

His hands roamed, and you closed your eyes, savoring the sensation of his touch. Your head was clouded with desire, and you could barely focus.

It was all happening so fast. Too fast. Your body was on fire, and, for a moment, you forgot who you were with and what he had done. You forgot the pain and the suffering and the lives that had been lost.

You forgot it all, and, just for a moment, it felt good. It felt right. It felt like you were meant to be together in every way.

Wesker was no fool, and he certainly didn't miss the change in your breathing or the way your muscles relaxed under his touch. He could hear your heartbeat, the rhythmic thumping growing quicker and louder as his hands moved lower, and he could smell the scent of arousal in the air.

He pulled away and looked down at you, the corner of his lips twisted into a smug smirk. He could see the look in your eyes, the haze that was covering them. He could feel the heat of your skin and the way it prickled under his touch.

He knew what you were thinking and what you were feeling, and he could use it to his advantage.

"So, this is how to get through to you," He mused, his voice low and teasing, "Interesting."

And just like that, reality set back in.

Your eyes snapped open, and, as if you were being electrocuted, your body went rigid. Wesker took a step back and released you from his grasp, watching intently as you fell to the ground.

Your body was numb, and your head was spinning. You couldn't move, couldn't speak. You were frozen, unable to do anything but watch him.

"Well, well," He started, his eyes never leaving you, "Perhaps I was wrong about you."

He took another step back, putting more distance between the two of you. You looked up at him, your breath coming out in short, ragged gasps.

He tilted his head, his face showing a mixture of amusement and annoyance, and took another step back.

"Send my regards to Chris, won't you?"

Then, he was gone. Just like that, he disappeared, and you were left alone in the woods, struggling to understand what had just happened.

What had you done?

You didn't know, and, to be honest, you weren't sure you wanted to. All you knew was that you had fucked up big time.

You had let your guard down and shown him a weakness. You had given him the perfect opportunity to use you, and use you he did.

You stood there, your mind racing and your body aching. Your legs were weak, and your heart was pounding, and it took a while for your breathing to return to normal.

Goddamn it, what had you done?!

The question haunted you, and it continued to haunt you as you stumbled back towards the main street, where your car was parked.

You were completely and utterly fucked, and you had nobody to blame but yourself.

You got into your car and turned the ignition, the engine rumbling to life. You shifted into drive and pulled away; the only thing on your mind was how badly you needed a drink.

Or two.

Or three.

Damn it… What the hell had you done?

[a-boca-do-inferno]

trouble with a capital T (tony montana x reader)

summary: (y/n) has an unexpected admirer.

warnings: angst, smut-bit of a size kink? idk u tell me, violence, drugs, abuse, dubcon, blood, swearing, domestic abuse, fluff and a little stalking ig. also tony montana

words: 8.9k

notes: this is toxic asf pls beware when reading it. also reader here is stupid asf for narrative purposes do not be like that irl im begging you. i rly have a concerning taste in men and if someone ever finds this i dont kno any of you <3 enjoy!

There’s this new guy in town who looks like trouble with a capital “T”. Everyone has seen him in person, except (y/n). However, by the stories and theories she hears, the figure of this man becomes even more macabre. Nobody knows his real name. He’s known only as Scarface, which should be an indicator of his perhaps not-so-scary nature, but (y/n) is a bit of a coward, if she’s being honest.  

Still, when the girl thinks of him, she likes to imagine he has his own reasons for doing what people say he does. It is a morally questionable service, certainly illegal—considerably inhumane—, yet something inside of her extends this guy the benefit of the doubt. It’s not an uncommon theme in Florida, anyway, selling drugs and whatnot, so perhaps Scarface isn’t of all bad. He is still surely just a man, right? But when she received Elvira’s messages saying there was a shooting in her neighborhood, and that Scarface was arrested for allegedly taking part in it, (y/n) felt a little overwhelmed about her previous considerations. Even if the guy wasn’t the devil like everyone made him to be, he was a criminal. A violent one at that, putting innocent people’s lives in danger, like her friend’s. 

She couldn’t go see Elvie that day, but (y/n) told her she’d drop by as soon as possible. Elvira sent some pictures of her neighbor’s window with bullet holes, six of them. The neighbor was a man who lived alone and listened to loud music all day on Sundays. Why anyone would have ordered his death, they had no idea. But then again, (y/n) didn’t really trust men who’d hit on women even after being told “no” a couple of hundred times. It wouldn’t surprise her at all if he was a rapist, or a pedophile, or both. Anything was possible nowadays. The neighbor managed to escape the sniper’s attack and left through the back, anyway, and Elvira said he entered the backyard of her house to protect himself. She was really lucky that by that time, the police had already arrived at the scene and readily took the shooter into custody.  

Scarface, according to Elvie’s description, was a short, rustic-looking man. He was white, but sunburned, with a stylish haircut reminiscent of the ‘80s and a shaven face. His eyes were big and dark, with a prominent nose, and there was a scar on his left eye, which obviously earned him the infamous nickname. He walked around with a worn Hawaiian shirt and a white wifebeater under it, the one everybody says he’s always wearing; from the waist down, he had shabby jeans held up by a leather belt and old-fashioned cowboy boots. The kind they used to wear in the Wild West, probably.  

The guy was just an almost cartoonish figure, a villain straight out of some children’s TV show. And still, somehow, he was the terror of this city as of lately. Everyone licked his balls in an attempt to spare their own lives. Uselessly, of course, since he didn’t seem to have any real consideration for anyone or anything, except for money. So, it wasn’t exactly a certainty that he wouldn’t kill any of his so-called “friends” downtown, unless they owned something valuable to him—drugs, for instance. 

And him being detained now, for the hundredth time that month, wasn’t really a relief, since he would soon be out. Because no one could ever catch him in the act—he was a professional, after all—, his stay in the precinct’s modest jail was only for a few hours. At most one night. Five hundred, even a thousand dollars in bail—or a bribe, in fact—was enough for the sheriff to release him with a faithful promise he would see Scarface again the following week. And it was no sooner said than done. 

Nobody knew where he lived. There were rumors his home was in the neighborhood next to (y/n)’s, but it was never confirmed. It also wouldn’t make any difference to know where his residence was. Again: the guy was a professional. Even the mayor licked the floor he walked. But Scarface also had his enemies, obviously. On her block alone there were four or five men who would kill him in broad daylight with their bare hands, if given the chance. She didn’t know the story very well, but it obviously had something to do with settling scores. It always did.  

Scarface, the cowboy-boots and burnt-skin, revolver-stuck-to-spine and walk-of-an-insufferable-bastard Scarface, was the greatest example of how the universe does not give any tips. The divine does not send signs. And when it does, it’s a bullet in the head, right in the middle of your eyebrows. Scarface is the universal clue of at least three people a week, but no one recognizes him as such. They’d rather bow to his feet, fearing for their lives, as if the devil had any sympathy in him in the first place. It was a funny paradox. Furthermore, the universe is also a sneaky son of a bitch. So, of course her brother would get into some trouble and end up in jail. And of course he would ask (y/n) to save his ass as she often did.  

She quickly turned around the way she was making to the supermarket and parked in front of the station, luckily only a few blocks away from her destination. The girl entered the room in silence and wrinkled her nose slightly at the strong smell of pee and cigarettes coming from the back, where the small jail was. In the waiting room, there were only two men sitting with their heads down and a guard in front of the hallway that led to the detainees.  

(y/n) went to talk to the guard and before disappearing, he told her to wait right there. She took a sit as far away from the two ominous-looking men as possible and pretended to be fiddling with her phone. In fact, she was distressed. Despite Manny being known for his little transgressions, he’d never been arrested before, so she had also never been to a police station up until that point. Her heart was pounding in her chest and her fingers were trembling slightly.  

The guard finally returned and she let out a sigh of relief. He handed her some paperwork to fill and she paid the bail in silence. While she gave him her signature, loud voices and laughter could be heard approaching in the hallway next to the waiting room. The laughter was undeniably masculine, a deep voice reverberating through the walls of the quiet police station. (y/n) held her breath as her eyes landed on brown shoes touching the floor. She didn’t dare look up and quickly finished signing the papers, going back to her chair while the guard went to get Manny.  

She stared down at her phone, her heartbeat speeding up again. The disturbing laughter ceased and the girl heard a rattle of keys followed by another clang. A thick accent thanked someone and (y/n) let out her breath, thinking he was leaving at last, but the heavy boots made their way to the water cooler right next to her. She bit her lip and sighed shakily, still not daring to look up. The way he was standing betrayed the lack of care for his spine, as he was unnecessarily leaning too far back. His loud gulps almost made (y/n) roll her eyes, despite her nervousness. He really looked like he came out of a cartoon with such deliberately theatrical behaviour.  

The two men sitting away from her got up at the same time and walked out of the station, leaving just Scarface, another guard who was on the computer, and her. But as she had no luck, a voice called that damn guard and he left them both alone in the waiting room. At that point, (y/n) knew the asshole was just messing around with that glass of water he’d been drinking for the past two minutes. And for that reason, she decided to stand up straight and look at him. There was nothing to fear. She had nothing to do with his drug shenanigans. 

The girl was only still hesitant of Scarface maybe trying to do something inappropriate, but she didn’t have time to run when he threw the cup in the trash and sat down on the empty chair right next to her. That man’s sly smile and predatory gaze made her shiver from head to toe. “Mornin’”, he states, his deep voice very close to her ear.  

(y/n) turned to look at him and kept her expression solemn. “Morning”, she simply replies, and perhaps it comes out too imposing, because Scarface raises his eyebrows and looks at her with some humor.  

“A tough one, huh? Just the way I like it.”  

She wants to laugh at his words, but only shakes her head. “Are you fucking serious? You wish....” 

“I wish what?”, he grabs her face tightly, forcing her to look at him. (y/n) freezes under his touch and can’t hide her panicked expression. He smiles satisfied and moves closer to her. “Your mama never told you not to talk to strangers, huh?”, she tries to pull away from his grip, but he pushes his fingers harder against her cheeks to the point of hurting. “Answer me.”  

“You’re not a stranger, Scarface”, she grins and he lets go of her at last. (y/n) takes a deep breath and clears her throat, checking the time and tucking her phone into her front pocket. Thankfully, Manny’s voice is approaching in the hallway and she gets up, giving the guy a scowl. “I know you think you own this town, but remember you’re still just a guy. Get over yourself.”  

“Oh, I know”, Scarface mutters, smirking like she’d just told him a great joke. He stands up and tries to touch her again, but (y/n) manages to avoid it. He then pulls her closer by the waist for a split second, as the guard and her brother appear in that instant. The man lets go of her quickly, and before he leaves, he flashes her a wink, “have a good day, baby.” 

She watches angrily as Scarface disappears, caressing her aching face. The girl turns around to find Manny with a sorry expression, and she clenches her jaw. “Let’s go”, it’s all she says, walking out of the station without waiting for him. 

♡♡♡ 

A week after that incident, (y/n) never left the house again. Until today, that is; she only went to her brother’s because he was starting to get a little worried about her confinement. She didn’t think of telling him why she was hiding for protection, because the less her family knew about that crazy drug dealer bothering her, the better.  

(y/n) walked out of her car fast so she wouldn’t bump into Scarface on the street by any chance. Although it was pretty unlikely to happen, seeing as he didn’t usually hang out in her neighborhood, but she wouldn’t take any risks. No one besides herself knew what went on in the station and she didn’t intend to tell anyone else. The girl didn’t even know if she should have told anyone in the first place. The guy had this city in his hands. If he wanted to find her, it was a snap of his fingers.  

But of course, (y/n) couldn’t run away forever. And the day she decided she’d go to Manny’s without any fear, while she was sitting on the sofa, that damned thick accent came from the front door. She widened her eyes and got up quickly, but when the girl reached the kitchen door, her scared expression met the man’s pleased one. He was smiling at something her brother was saying, however, as soon as he saw her, the mirth on his features was borderline sickening. Still, he visibly tried to play it cool because Manny was there.  

(y/n) pretended not to care as she made her way to the bathroom and locked herself there, hands shaking violently. She sent millions of desperate messages to Elvira. The voices continued to chatter excitedly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to have Scarface at her brother’s place. Like they were buddies. 

Suddenly there was silence and someone knocked on the bathroom door slowly, barely audible. Her heart raced and she felt a lump forming in her throat, eyes watering without warning. Another knock. She put her phone away and slowly opened the door, not knowing what else to do or where else to go. The man’s intimidating presence greeted her and a victorious grin hovered on his lips. (y/n) looked into the living room for Manny, but there was no one. He seemed to have left for some reason, and she felt her world fall apart.  

The girl stared back at Scarface and he was now serious, examining her body up and down with no shame. “So you’re family, huh?”, he muses, his terrifying voice making her shiver sharply. She sighed and went to sit back in the couch, accompanied by him, who was leaning against the doorway and still gazed at her without blinking. “When they told me you were Manny’s lil’ sis, I couldn’t believe it, baby! But here you are, I guess that makes him my brother-in-law”, he states, content as a child who solves a puzzle. “He told me you live alone, right? I might pay you a visit someday.”  

“Right”, she merely scoffs, attempting her best not to show the shift in her seat hearing his words. 

He smiles macabre, moving his index finger from side to side in denial. “You don’t talk to me like that, tigress. Let’s start there”, he looks around, making sure Manny’s still not there, and approaches her. (y/n) instinctively pulls away and he grabs her face just like before, forcing her to glance at him. “You don’t talk to me like that. Got it?” She doesn’t answer and he squeezes her cheeks even more, making her let out a groan of pain. “Got it?”  

“Got it”, she spits out, begrudgingly.  

(y/n) thinks he’s going to let go, finally, but first he gives her an awkward, aggressive peck on the lips. She instantly shoves him and wipes her mouth to somehow undo that contact. Scarface laughs, “you’re so cute, baby.”  

“What are you doing with my...” 

Manny arrived as soon as she closed her mouth, readily engaging in another conversation with Scarface while ignoring her presence there. They talk about people and places she knew nothing about, it sounded like a bunch of codes, and she gaped at each sentence they exchanged. How the hell did they know each other? What was that asshole doing with her brother?!  

Dinner came and Scarface—his name was never mentioned, for some reason, and she wasn’t about to ask—made a point of sitting next to her, but if Manny noticed their closeness, he didn’t pay any mind. They continued talking through the meal and Manolo chit-chatted (y/n) now and then, forcing her to answer Scarface’s falsely innocent and curious questions about what she was talking about. As if he didn’t already know everything about her life, apparently.  

After helping clean the kitchen, (y/n) said goodbye to her brother. Scarface watched them silently from the sofa and she tried to keep her focus on Manny. “I have some stuff to do at home now, gotta go.” 

“You going alone? It’s late”, he frowns.  

She waves her hand to make light of it. “It’s fine, Manny. It’s a ten minute ride.”  

Manolo shakes his head. “Even so, (y/n), you know this neighborhood ain’t safe. I can’t take you home, but Tony can.”  

So that’s his name.  

Scarface—Tony chimes in, not letting her answer Manny just yet, “c’mon, let’s go. I’ll take you.” 

“It is not necessary. I literally drove here!”, the girl huffs, already taking the first step to leave.  

Manny stops her before she reaches the door. “No, no. It’s too dangerous here at night, you better go with him. C’mon, you take her, Tony. She’s just a little stubborn.”  

(y/n) locks her jaw, but doesn’t say anything.  

“I noticed”, Tony mutters tauntingly, giving her an ambiguous look that surely only she saw. The girl took a deep breath and surrendered, waving goodbye to Manny as she walked with Tony to her car. They strolled in silence to the garage and as soon as she opened the door of the vehicle, he pulled out a little plastic bag from his pocket, full of a white powder. He pointed with his chin at it, raising the object. “I just made some business with your brother today, baby, no worries.”  

(y/n) stared at him confused, but still didn’t say a word. Manolo was really going down an irreversible path, it seemed, and there was nothing she could do about it. With a heavy heart, she could only get in her car and pray she’d make it home safe that night. Scarface followed her and started driving, shooting her a smile or two over his shoulder. Luckily, it wasn’t long until they parked in front of her building. He turned off the ignition and got out of the car with her, obviously inviting himself in.  

Of course.  

(y/n)’d been trying for a few seconds to open the stuck gate and Tony notices her suffering, helping her to complete the task. She doesn’t thank him and simply walks into the house, knowing he’s on her tail. His eyes burn into her back, but she tries not to focus on it while starting to unlock the door. She is greeted by her cats rubbing against her heels and she smiles automatically. Forgetting for a brief moment that Scarface is there, the girl takes the smaller one in her arms, hugging and kissing her soft dark fur. When she puts her down, the man is watching her with an amused expression.  

Her cheeks tingle and (y/n) makes her way to the kitchen, with Tony still following in silence. She pours herself a glass of water and offers it to him next, which he accepts, still staring at her with the same predatory demeanor. He’s going to try to do something ugly to her, obviously, and she is trying not to think about it, but it’s getting harder and harder. If she screams, no one will hear her. Fortunately or not, she has no neighbor on her floor. She makes a mental list of what objects she can throw at his head to make him pass out like in the movies; a brand new moisturizer that is full; a makeup bag; her favorite pan. If she is quick enough, maybe she can lock him in her room and call the police. 

(y/n) snaps out of her thoughts when Tony approaches her behind the counter, while she still holds a glass of water. She is staring at his chest when he calmly takes it from her hands and offers her a smile. She tries to hide her trembling fingers from his vision, but he notices them and takes her palm in his, raising it to her eye level.  

“Not so tough now, huh?”, he mocks, making (y/n) bite her own tongue so she doesn’t give him a sharp answer and gets punched because of it. He kisses her fingertips softly, catching her off guard. Tony notices her confused expression and grins again, lowering his face to bring it closer to hers. “What, you think I was gonna keep scaring you off? I’m not that bad, baby.” 

“If you say so.” She mutters reflexively, regretting it right away when his dangerous orbs fall on her. She sighs and looks away. “Sorry.” 

He nods approvingly. “Good girl.”  

There is an old gouache paintbrush she could use to pierce through his neck in case it gets bad. The glass pitcher is over the sink. (y/n) looks at the table and there’s a fork and a spoon. The big knife is in the drawer— 

Tony lets go of her hand and walks to her room. She listens to the sound of his wooden soles echoing against the tile floor a little astonished, before following him. She opens the door, which creaks imposingly through the empty, closed house, and her heart skips a beat when she hears the mattress shift, indicating he has settled into her bed.  

(y/n) is in front of her window to open it, but before she can do it, his arms wrap around her from behind and pull her away from it. She widens her eyes and tries to pull away, however, the grip tightens. She starts to shake more aggressively and an agonized scream leaves her mouth, causing his hand to slam against it, muffling the sound. She looks desperately at Tony and he’s signaling her to be quiet. Panic takes over her body and she gives up trying to get out of his grip. He seems happy with this decision and removes his palm from her lips, laying her body down on the bed and straddling her, legs wrapping around her waist as his knees sink into the mattress.  

Her eyes water and she closes them tightly, waiting for the inevitable. (y/n) remains like this for a few seconds, but nothing happens. She thinks maybe Tony has given up on what he wanted to do, however, when she opens her eyes again, his face is hovering over hers. His brown eyes are scrutinizing the girl minutely, there’s not a single vestige of that villainous smile that lives on his lips. She returns his gaze and they stare at each other in silence. His elbows are propped up against the mattress and his hands are still gripping her arms, holding them in place, but with no force.  

(y/n) wants to ask him what he’s doing, but the thought leaves her mind as soon as he takes a gun out of his pants. She screams in desperation, “help! Help! Someone help me!”  

“Shhh. Hey, calm down!”, Tony puts his hand over her mouth yet again, holding her down so she’ll stop her kicking. She watches, still horrified, as he places the gun on the chair beside her bed. “I’m not killing you, baby, calm down”, there’s a smirk on his features that makes her stomach turn. “Yet”, he adds, taking his palm away from her trembling lips. (y/n) tries to get up, but he pushes her back down. “I ain’t killing you, but I’m gonna do other things.” 

“No, no, please...” 

She can’t finish her pleas as his full lips crash onto hers, now in a kiss deeper and less brusque than the peck from earlier. The girl tries to resist at first, but soon her body speaks louder and she ends up giving in to the contact. She lets out an involuntary groan as his rough fingers lift the hem of her shirt, almost like an animal in heat. Damn hormones, she thinks in the back of her mind, not really caring for that much when his fingertips send shivers through her skin.  

Tony pulls apart so he can remove her garment, smirking at her bra-covered breasts. She blushes terribly. “You’re so cute, baby.” 

He kisses her again and (y/n) reciprocates vehemently this time, wrapping her legs around his waist tightly. His lips trace down her neck and she faintly laughs at the little tickle there, making him lift his face to look at her intently. There’s something different in his eyes, almost adoration, but she can’t finish the thought as he unbuttons her pants and unceremoniously pulls them down, leaving the girl in her underwear.  

Tony drops to his knees on the bed and shrugs off his iconic floral shirt and wifebeater. (y/n) can’t help but smile seeing his near-athletic pecs and gets on her knees too, silently volunteering to strip him out of his own pants. He watches closely as she unzips his jeans and unbuttons them, sliding them down his toned thighs. Tony finishes getting rid of the piece and goes back to kissing her neck urgently, leaving more aggressive caresses in place. A chill travels her spine when his member bumps into her stomach and she squeezes his arm reflexively, catching his attention.  

“You good?”, he asks, sounding so worried he seems to be another man completely different from the Scarface criminal who’s been with her until now.  

She simply nods and lets out another moan as his lips descend to the gap between her breasts, leaving sinuous kisses all the way down. He licks at the sweat accumulated there and kisses her again; a salty, icy kiss. A hand finds her face and trails her cheek lightly, while his tongue invades her mouth shamelessly. His touch is so gentle it looks absolutely nothing like the man who bruised her face twice with his brute strength. Tony gropes down her back and unbuckles her bra, making the girl shiver as he grips her nipple. Soon, he pays attention to them with his mouth and she bites her lip so as not to make too much noise. Still nibbling at the sensitive skin on her breasts, his deft hands slide down her panties and her face heats up violently.  

He slips two fingers into her without blinking an eye. (y/n) arches her back and blurts out a high-pitched groan, which had him chuckling, turning her on even more as his thick voice vibrated against her nipple. When his tongue meets her clit, the feeling is indescribably divine. She’s now a carefree mess of moans and ragged breathing. Tony’s hands grip her hips strongly, holding back her unconscious thrusts.  

He lifted his face again before she came, his chin visibly wet. “Got protection, baby?”  

“No”, she lets out an incredulous laugh. “I never did that, I didn’t have to...” 

“Right”, he says thoughtfully, as if just connecting the dots now. Tony fumbles in his pockets and doesn’t seem to find what he’s looking for, so he looks back at her. “I got nothing on me either.”  

“What now?”  

They exchange a silent look and he shrugs, getting back on top of her body. “Now I’m pulling out y qué sea lo que Dios quiera.”  

(y/n) is going to protest, but Tony takes off his boxers and invades her without warning, causing her to groan in pain. He soon notices her expression and stands statue over the girl, waiting for her to recover. Tears form in her eyes once again and he leaves light kisses on her cheek, trying to calm her down. She smiles softly at the delicate and unexpected gesture. Soon she’s ready and he starts to move, gradually increasing the pace.  

The solemn creak of the bed is the only sound besides their gasping breaths and moans she can’t contain. Every now and then his golden chain hits her chin, however it doesn’t hurt, it’s but a little friction. His big hands are squeezing her breasts as he speeds up the movements little by little. (y/n) looks to the side and sees the revolver on the pink chair, the contrast of that scene making her want to laugh. She returns her attention to Tony and he’s got his eyes closed, mouth open, leaving wet kisses all over her cleavage. He’s dripping with sweat, just like her.  

He takes her lips again and only then does she return to the moment, losing herself in her own pleasure and letting the orgasm overtake her without precedent. Next up is Tony, who comes with a husky moan and one last kiss. He lets his body slide off hers, pulling out his cock while his cum paints them both. (y/n) kisses his face after the effect of orgasm and he returns the caress, pulling her into a fairly tight hug. She smiles at the contact and lets him hold her there for a few minutes. They’re silent the entire time, until he pulls the sheet from under the pillow to cover them. Tony and her exchange indecipherable, sinuous looks, and that’s when her penny drops. She just had sex with a criminal.  

Jesus. 

“This shouldn’t have happened”, she say abruptly, sitting up.  

Tony also sits down and shrugs.  “But it did. So what?”  

“So it won’t happen again!”, (y/n) exclaims in annoyance, not caring that this man has a gun and isn’t afraid to use it at all. “You need to go.”  

“Already? You just wanna use me and throw me away, huh? Now that’s cold, baby”, she rolls her eyes at his mockery and stares at the wall as he stands beside the bed, his stuff swaying back and forth. “Hey”, he calls, but she doesn’t answer. He then touches her chin and gives her a lingering, incredibly soft peck. She sighs as Tony pulls away and there’s a gentle smile on his face as he puts on his clothes. “You’re cute, (y/n).”  

“Thanks”, she timidly blurts out, not really knowing what to say. The girl looks for her underwear and tenses up as she watches him handle his revolver, placing it on his back again.  

He notices this. “I ain’t hurting you with that gun, you know? You can relax.”  

“Even if you don’t use it against me, it’s still a weapon”, she mutters seriously, turning her back to him so he can buckle her bra.  

He does the task and hugs her from behind, kissing her locks. “You don’t have to be afraid of anything with me, baby, not even a weapon.” 

She turns to face him, hugging his waist lightly. Tony gets serious all of a sudden and lets out a long breath as he finally releases her. He checks his pocket and fixes his messy hair in the small mirror on top of the dresser. Before leaving, they exchange one last look. None of them says a word. (y/n) watches him disappear behind the gate and looks around the empty house, returning to her room and closing the door. She stares at the completely messed up bed and the sheet painted by drops of blood and sperm, which they shared for a few seconds, now on the floor. Ha.  

Trouble with a capital “T”. 

♡♡♡ 

Two weeks after the incident, (y/n) didn’t go to her brother’s house anymore. But Elvira, being such a pain in her ass sometimes, had practically bullied her into going out tonight.  She was anxious, it’d been a while since she went out to have fun like this. Her fear of bumping into Tony—Scarface wasn’t exactly as strong as before, for obvious reasons, but she’d still rather not take her chances in finding him again. No matter how good his dick game was, he was a dangerous individual. Better to stay away. 

So, for the record; she fucked a hitman and was most likely falling in love with him, maybe even reciprocally, just after he got violent with her several times. Elvie obviously didn’t know about it yet, but what would she do when that time inevitably came? Because (y/n) was going to tell her, no doubt. She couldn’t keep it all to herself forever, hiding it from everyone like it was some sort of crime. Elvira would probably call her crazy and even threaten to lock her up in an asylum, wanting to choke Tony if it was as much as hinted he laid his hand on her. And she wasn’t even wrong for that! 

But what about her family? God, if her father knew... He’d go after Tony’s blood. He would simply never look her in the face again, especially since their relationship was already fragile enough because of Manolo. And what of her reputation? All of Miami would talk about this. She’d be the new bitch on the block for sure. No one would respect her, she’d become a joke. Not that she cared about what those people think of her, but it would be nice to stay anonymous. It was safe, something she hadn’t felt in a long time. 

With a heavy sigh, (y/n) finished getting ready and stared at her reflection, smiling faintly. Perhaps it was best to let those corrosive thoughts for tomorrow’s hangover. She grabbed her bag and locked her apartment, walking down the deserted street. As the club was close to her house, there was no reason for anyone to come and get her, so she’d go alone with no worries. It wasn’t like anyone was going to do anything to her on her quiet neighborhood, anyway, much less on the weekend. Plus, criminals in this town had a schedule and they liked to stick to it. At least the ones who grew up there. 

Already approaching the place, she saw Elvira with some of her friends waiting for her in the line. They greeted each other and entered the club, going for a table next to the bar. (y/n) immediately asked for a strong drink to try and calm down her nerves, feeling rather unfit for that environment after such a long time away from it. At the first glass, she felt lighter and smiling, pulling Elvie to the dance floor.  

They’re dancing and laughing like idiots when a tall man approaches them. He is moving to the song and calmly smoking a cigarette while he watches the girls, eyes glued to (y/n)’s form in specific. She doesn’t hear a word Elvira is saying over the music as she stares back at the guy, so distracted she accidentally knocks over a waiter’s tray behind her, making a huge mess. (y/n) apologizes quickly and starts clumsily picking things up on the floor, while the mysterious guy crouches down and helps her with it. She smiles shyly and they finish fixing everything in place.  

She thanks him softly and turns to go back to her table, but he grabs her arm gently. “In a hurry?”, he questions playfully, an amused smile on his full lips.  

She blushes. “Oh, no, I was just…”  

He shakes his head. “You’re a little shy, I can see that. Let’s put an end to this shyness now, come with me!”, he walks off, dragging her to the bar. “So, what’s your name?”, he asks, signaling for the bartender to bring them two beers.  

“(y/n).”  

“Frank, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Their drinks arrive and they make a toast, while she takes a big swig. Frank smiles and pulls her by the waist, taking her by surprise. “Lost your shyness yet?” 

“I...” 

He attacks her lips before she can finish, leaving a wet, beer-tasting kiss on her mouth. (y/n) has to make a tremendous effort not to drop the beer from her hand, making way for his tongue to explore every corner of her mouth. Frank separates them just to take another sip of his drink and starts kissing her neck. Elvira’s eyes from afar give her a surprised and mischievous look. She flashes her a smug smile, but as soon as she does, her friend’s expression completely shuts down and now it’s one of sheer panic. (y/n) frowns and turns to look at where she’s staring so terrified.  

She’s greeted by Tony’s aggressive hands pulling her away from Frank in a sudden movement. He drags her out of the man’s arms, keeping her behind his body. Tony then hits him with his fist. (y/n) widens her eyes with the amount of punches Tony is throwing at Frank and tries to get him off the guy, but he pushes her away. She looks around and people surround them, watching the fight in silence and astonishment, however no one moves a finger to help break it up. Of course. It’s Scarface.  

No one would dare stop him.  

Frank managed to leave a blow on Tony’s stomach, but he couldn’t dodge another punch to the jaw and fell to the ground, looking dizzy. When she thought Tony would back down and leave it at that, he went over to Frank’s body on the floor and striking him wildly again. She was desperate for help to separate them, but nobody did anything. (y/n) tried to pull Tony away from him and he pushed her once more, only this time she didn’t give up so easily. She grabbed his arm with all the strength of a slightly intoxicated person and made him look at her. The fury in his eyes slowly seemed to soften and he dropped Frank’s semi-conscious body. 

Once on his feet, Tony looks around him, menacingly showing his gun tucked into his pants. Everyone scatters like startled ants immediately, without him having to say a word. When they’re alone, he glances at Frank one more time and looks back at (y/n). His anger seems to have returned.  

“I wish I done that to you”, he begins, his thick voice making her shiver. She takes a step back, but he grabs her by the neck and pulls her close again. “Lucky for you, I’m doing good lately, baby. So I’m generous, you know? But you both should be fucking dead now.” (y/n)’s hands start to shake and her eyes water instantly at his words, fear taking over her entire body. She tries to free herself from his grip, but he won’t let her. He continues, “you are mine. Ain’t no one touching you but me from now on. Got it?” 

“Yes”, she chokes, tears falling down her face uncontrollably.  

Tony, however, doesn’t seem to feel any remorse for her deplorable state. Finally his hand lets go of her neck and she takes a deep breath, sobs leaving her throat aggressively. (y/n) gets as far away as possible and before she knows it, she’s running away. He doesn’t come after her, which she mentally thanks. She felt so scared and angry at that moment that she couldn’t think of anything but running, running for her life.  

♡♡♡ 

(y/n) got home and locked the door thoroughly. She isolated in her room and cried herself to sleep. It was dawn when she managed to close her eyes and rest for a few hours, only to be woken up by a loud noise outside the next day. There were loud bangs on the door, nearly knocking it over. Her breath hitched and she made sure to lock the bedroom door. Maybe she could just pretend nobody was home.  

Another banging thud, now it sounded like someone jumping on the floor. Then there was yet another furious knocking, this time on the front door. Her stomach turned. A bang on the window echoed in her ears and (y/n) began to cry profusely, sobbing in terror. A crash startled her and her eyes widened seeing the wooden blinds breaking in front of her.  

She unlocked the bedroom door in a second and ran behind her apartment, opening the kitchen door as it lead to emergency stairs. Footsteps approached once she managed to get out and run across someone’s yard. She looked for somewhere low enough for her to reach so she could climb, finding a little doghouse in the corner. There wasn’t anybody or anything around, thankfully. However, as soon as she started to take off, big arms grabbed her waist from behind, pulling down her body violently.  

She kicked as hard as she could, but Tony wouldn’t let go. He towed her back into her house and locked the kitchen door, dragging her by the arm back to her room. He threw the girl on the bed without any delicacy and looked at her from where he was standing. She continued to cry copiously, all her strength quickly draining away. (y/n) crouched close to the headboard and watched him sit on the far side, studying her in silence.  

“Crying ain’t doing you no good, baby.” She turns her face to the wall and he walks in her direction, crawling until he’s next to her. He whispers in her ear, “you can’t win for losing.” 

“Shut up!”, she pushes him away, taking Tony by surprise. He looks at her with raised eyebrows, but he doesn’t look annoyed.  

He looks pleased.  

“C’mon, now”, Tony approaches again, grabbing her chin to make her eyes stay on his. “Now, now you look like the fucking girl I met in that station. Badass baby”, (y/n) tries to pull away, but he doesn’t let her and gives her a forced peck. His stubble scratches her face and she grimaces, dodging and breaking the contact. This seems to irritate him deeply, because in the next second, his palm meets the soft skin of her cheek and the sensation burns. Tony pointed in her direction, warning, “don’t you ever do that again.”  

“I do whatever the hell I want”, she spits out, not caring about the consequences at this point.  

He gets hold of her neck, glaring. “No. You do what I want, you bitch.” 

(y/n) smirks, mockingly. “You think you’re offending me? How cute.”  

Tony then slaps her again, this time much harder, and she laughs out loud at his fragile ego. She pulls herself together and faces him again, pretending not to be shaken. Tears have dried under her eyes and she only cracks a half smile, taking in his scowling features. “You men are such a joke, so easy to figure out.”  

“Careful, baby”, he says in a warning tone, making her chuckle once more.  

“Who do I have to be careful with, you?”, she asks smugly, smacking the hand he lifted to squeeze her neck again. Tony is surprised, although he’s trying really hard not to show it. “You...”, she continues, lightly touching the collar of his shirt. “Who would never hurt me with a gun?”, (y/n) mimics his thick voice. He seems to get annoyed at that and takes her hand away from where it was, which makes her smile victoriously.  

Okay, so it’s not so bad having a criminal with a crush on her.  

“Shut up”, he orders.  

She simply shrugs and brings her face closer to his. Tony places a gentle kiss on her lips and excitement burns inside her as his palm goes straight to her ass, squeezing it. “Hold up, cowboy”, (y/n) mutters, although not really caring about his impatience. “Wanna explain to me what was that about last night?”  

“Told you, you’re mine.” He reiterates casually, trying to pull her onto his lap and kiss her, but she doesn’t allow it. Tony frowns again, speaking with a heavy accent, “what is it now?”  

“You almost killed the guy”, (y/n) points out. She didn’t want to make him feel remorseful or anything, she knew he just wouldn’t; it was all on her curiosity about the sick psychology in his head. She touches the collar of his shirt again and looks into his eyes, the most sincere she’s been so far, and practically begs, “what do you want from me, Tony?”  

Something very similar to confusion runs through his brown orbs, but it’s only for a millisecond, as he looks at her sternly right after. His hands remain promptly by each side of his body, and it makes her a little bit relieved he’s respecting her wishes. It’s a start. 

Of what exactly, (y/n)?  

“I want you, baby”, he says. His voice doesn’t betray any kind of vulnerability, though his gaze conveys less solemnity than his words. She watches him in silence until her eyes inevitably water. Tony frowns and touches her face quickly, holding her like she was the most delicate thing in the world. “What is it?”  

How can he not see? How does he have the courage to even ask what happened? Or are his actions merely impulsive and completely thoughtless, is that it? Does he not know that he was just hurting, hitting her? Does he not know that he was just insulting (y/n) and treating her like a goddamn worthless object? Because the same hands that slapped her cheek minutes ago are now hugging her and stroking her back, as if in an attempt to ease her loud sobs.  

She hears his voice in her ear, soothing, kissing her neck lightly. Maybe it’s all a dream, a hallucination in her head as she’s unconscious with this man doing God-knows-what to her. But it is not. His touch is as real as it was the last time, his pleasure intertwining with hers in a magnificent, if improvised, dance. And it’s as real as the first time their lips met, in a sheer display of power and dominance on his part, but which now reminded her only of a caress exchanged between two lovers. A comfort.  

“(y/n)...”, his deep voice calls again, however her eyes are glazed over the shattered window in front of her. He lifts her face to look at him and there’s a kind of desperation in his expression, even if it’s held back by pride greater than his own ego, if that’s possible. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” 

“I know.” She hears herself speak, sort of in reflex, since it was true. She knew deep down he didn’t mean to hurt her. Maybe at first, yes, but then... Following that afternoon, a new chapter of this crazy story began to unfold. And they are entering one more after last night.  

“It’s true”, he reenforces, and (y/n) really wishes she had the strength to tell him that it’s okay, she understood, but the truth is that she was tired. Sold out. It had been so long since she had slept or eaten anything and she felt her limbs giving up on supporting her body at any moment. “(y/n)”, Tony insists, yet his voice is already a low sound that becomes more and more distant in her mind.  

Soon she doesn’t feel anything anymore.  

♡♡♡ 

The first time (y/n) opens her eyes, everything is blurry. On the second attempt, she notices a figure sitting on the chair beside her bed and a dim light coming from the window. On the third blink, she realized she had probably passed out—for how long was her first question, as the sun outside seemed to point at one or two in the afternoon.  

Tony was silently watching her as she positioned herself and felt her head almost explode into a thousand pieces. Her throat was dry, an unparalleled taste of shit in her mouth reminding her she hadn’t even brushed her teeth due to everything that had happened that day since she woke up. A sigh escaped her lips and (y/n) closed her eyes again, giving up on her efforts to sit up against the headboard. She felt so weak. Her fingers were trembling slightly and she was freezing to death, even with the sun at its peak and all the covers over her on the bed. She felt dizziness enveloping her body and thought she was going to faint again, but a large, rough, careful hand touched her arm.  

Tony looked hesitant, worried, recluse even. His eyes didn’t leave hers for a second and she felt slightly invaded, undressed as his irises watched over her without blinking. She stared at his palm on her forarm and tried to calm down, although her heart hammered inside her chest. “You didn’t eat anything today, did you?”, he asks, but it’s a rhetorical question.  

Tony then leaves her alone, not waiting for an answer, and returns with a plate in one hand and a glass in the other. (y/n) stares at the image in front of her and feels like chukling, but she contains herself. Instead, she sits up with some difficulty as he hands her the meal, returning to his rightful place on the pink chair. She takes a couple of bites and a huge relief rushes through her body as the food reaches her stomach. It had been almost a day since she had anything to eat. She didn’t even know how she didn’t vomit her ass off with all the alcohol she had last night.  

The girl sipped the juice as she paid more attention to her surroundings. Tony took care of her while she was unconscious and even cooked. He, the hitman who scared even the most dangerous gangsters in Miami, cooked her a stroganoff and made her an orange juice. It sounded like a scene from a sugary romance movie.  

“It’s just a hangover”, she finally speaks up, her throat still a little dry.  

“It’s not”, Tony turns around and sits leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, looking at her intently. She gazes at her plate and continues to eat in silence, while he continues, “I’m real sorry, (y/n).” If she hadn’t been so tired, she would have spit out her juice in surprise. (y/n) glanced at him completely horrified, as if he had confessed to an atrocity. Tony stays with the same solemn expression, a little less proud now.  

“For what?”, a shiver runs down her legs. She didn’t want to be insistent, but curiosity was killing her inside.  

Tony, on the other hand, didn’t seem bothered by the question. “For hitting you. And for doing all of that last night.”  

“You shouldn’t apologize to me for what you did”, she mutters bitterly. 

Tony only shrugs. “I didn’t mean to hit you.” He repeats, and she closes her eyes when all that tangle of feelings hits her chest once more. He reaches over and takes her hand, giving her a pleading look. “I swear I ain’t ever laying a finger on you again, baby. You gotta believe me.”  

Her eyes water involuntarily and she holds his hand back firmly, looking at him with a half-broken smile, trying in vain to give him some comfort. “I know”, she begins, voice cracking at the end. “I know, okay? You were angry. I understand.”  

Tony scowls and shakes his head. “No. (y/n), that’s no excuse. I shouldn’t...” 

“I know. It was wrong, Tony, I know, but you didn’t think straight. And neither did I, actually. It happened, there’s no reason to dwell on it. Everything is fine, really.” She looks into his eyes once more and smiles when he nods after a while, still a little hesitant. The girl brings his hand to her lips and kisses it slowly.  

He smiles weakly. “You scared the fuck out of me, you know”, he mumbles, and there’s a hint of desperation in his voice. “I thought I did something to make you pass out. The fear, I don’t know...”  

“That wasn’t it. I’m not afraid of you, Tony”, she assured him, since it wasn’t a total lie. When he was just him, without that domineering, abusive criminal side, she wasn’t afraid of Tony. No longer. (y/n) sighs and finishes her meal, setting her plate on the table beside her, feeling considerably better. “Come here”, she extends her arms to him and Tony goes without blinking, hiding his face in her neck and lying with her on the bed.  

She didn’t know exactly what that meant. Having sex with a murderer who only mistreated her already wasn’t so understandable, but having some kind of relationship with him? It sounded pathetic in her mind. It’s not like he would even want anything to do with her besides sex, but she couldn’t believe that as the seconds went by and he kissed her neck so softly, apologizing endlessly for his transgressions, mumbling that he would never hurt her again, that she’d never need to be afraid of him again...  

Her head was going to explode.  

(y/n) looked down to meet his gaze and stroked his hair, smiling like a lovestruck idiot. She just couldn’t believe this was happening—and somehow she did. Because of course she wouldn’t resist for long. Even when she was shaking like a leaf, still she couldn’t fight his caresses, imagine it now that Tony seems so willing to make up for all his mistakes? 

“Antonio...”, he mutters, barely audible, making her frown. He gives her a small smile and kisses her, mumbling against her lips, “my name.” 

“Really?”, (y/n) asks in disbelief, since now she was probably the only person in town who got that information, but Tony seemed more than comfortable sharing it with her.  

He’s still looking at her with the same little smile on his face. “Really. Why?” He lifts his body to rest on one arm, staring at the girl with some amusement.  

She grins and kisses him again, leaving several pecks on his stubble. “For nothing. It’s just a really nice name.”  

Her eyebrows dance and he laughs, making her insides melt at the sound of his laughter. It was the first time she heard it and she didn’t want to hear any other sound for the rest of her life. It was such a full 180 from the big, bad Scarface. 

(y/n) knew “I want you” was very far from “I love you”, but that knowledge didn’t stop her heart from skipping a beat whenever she remembered those words. Besides, even if the latter was the case, it was just never going to be that simple with Tony. She looked at his sparkling brown eyes and let out a deep, dreamy sigh. She was down hard for that dangerous, dangerous man, yet there was nothing but softness inside of her as he held her into his arms. What he did away from her could be as ugly as it came to be, and it still would never compare to how warm she was in his presence—be it for the anger, for the lust or for the comfort he made her feel. So, it was fine. She could handle it.  

She’s always been a bit of a troubleshooter, anyways. 

[strawberry-chubz]

Tokyo Rev Boys I Think Would Fuck You While Wearing a Ghostface Mask

CW - mask kink, Sub!Reader, GN!Reader, praise, slight degradation, daddy kink, dacryphilia, use of “doll”, “sweetheart”, “pretty”, “babe”, “baby”, and “love”

Includes - Kazutora, Ran, Sanzu, and Hanma (ALL SEPERATE)

Author note -  bro i’m just horny for the tokyo rev boys

Kazutora 

It was his idea and quite frankly you liked the sound of it. 

“Hey love? I have this idea that I think you’ll like.” Kazu said. “Oooo what is it Tora?” You asked innocently. “Well you know how you’ve mentioned liking the idea of getting fucked while I wore a mask? Well I was wondering if we could try it out.” He said looking at you. You stood thinking for a second. “Y’know what? Yea let’s try it!” You said excitedly. And that’s how you ended up in this position. Legs pushed to your chest while Kazu hammered into you all the while wearing a ghostface mask. “Mmm T-tora too fast! S-slow down!” You said pleadingly all while you lost your mind with his cock splitting you open. “But you wanted this sweetheart. Why would I stop now? You look so pretty spread open on my cock like a good whore.” He said with the mask making his voice sound raspier. “P-please Tora!! Can’t t-take it” You whined with tears threatening to spill. “Awhh are you gonna cry?” Kazu asked mockingly. “Go ahead and cry while I impale you on my cock like the good whore you are.” He said smiling.

Ran 

You guys were just talking one evening about things you thought would be fun to try together. And that’s when you mentioned the idea of him fucking you with a mask on. “Damn babe didn’t know you were so kinky.” He said winking at you. Cut to your current predicament. 

“AAHH! W-wait Ran!! T-too fast!” You said surprised at how fast he was hammering into you. “Awh c’mon love. Y’know you like it. So quite the whinning and just take my cock like a good slut.” He said while speeding up. “T-too much..p-please daddy slow down..Aaahhh” You said slurring your words too drunk on Ran’s cock to think. “Awh look at my pretty baby all dumb on my cock. Such a pretty slut that’s all mine.” He said to himself more so he did to you knowing you were already dumb from his cock.

Sanzu 

It was one of those ideas Sanzu got while high asf. So once his high subsided he decided to see if you would be into this “clever” idea of his. “Hey doll? Do you think you’d be into me fucking you while wearing a ghostface mask?” He asked out of the blue. You were shocked so it took you a minute to respond. “I mean I would definitely be down to try it.” You said looking at Sanzu. And thanks to that that’s why you’re now in a mating press with Sanzu slamming into you at an inhuman pace.

“F-feels sooo g-good d-daddy” You said already going cock drunk. “Awhh look at the pretty baby already so dumb.” He said with faux sympathy while stroking your cheek. “Mmm t-too big d-daddy!” You said becoming overstimulated while he kept slamming into you. “But we both know you can take it can’t ya doll?” He said not really expecting a verbal reply with how dumb you were for his cock. You just mindlessly nodded along loving the feeling of his cock filling you.

Hanma

You guys were chilling in his room playing truth or dare. And all to one stupid little truth Hanma decided to ask you brought you to your current position. 

“Would you let me fuck you with a mask on?” Hanma asked while mindlessly rubbing your thigh. “Mmm yea I would.” You said without really thinking. “Wait...like you would actually let me fuck you while wearing a mask?” He asked dumbfounded. “I mean why not? I think it’d be hot.” You said not really thinking it was a problem. That’s how you ended up laying on your back with your legs thrown over his shoulder. “A-aahh so d-deep!” You said already feeling full of his cock. “Oh c’mon doll. I’m barely half way in so jus’ relax for me so I can bury my cock into you yea?” He said smiling while tilting his head. You just nodded along and tried to relax as best you could. “Mmm there we go doll. Being such a good baby for me hm?” He said while pulling out just to slam back into you. “O-oh my god! S-soo deep!!” You said screaming while tears started pouring out of your eyes. “Awhh my pretty doll is crying cause of my cock? How cute. Now keep doing that while I stuff you ya?” He said speeding up his pace.

[genderqueerbird]

Hey y’all. I’ve made a few mutual aid requests in the past. But I could REALLY use your guys help. I just lost my job, due to my employer lying. We really need to make rent by the 5th. (Ironically the 5th of July is my birthday)

Our rent is 675. We could really use aid getting the full amount this month. I am disabled and autistic. Working is incredibly hard on my mind and body. My partner is also autistic & disabled. We’re both also Queer & trans.

We’re working to move from a red to a blue state.

Basically, there’s a bunch happening right now :,) and we need a lot of help.

My cash app is $cryptidlyy. Please, help us out if you can.

EDIT: if you use this to send me DM to try and convince me to give you my bank information; go fuck your self. Disrespectfully. That’s a cruel and inhumane thing to do to someone who’s struggling & you can’t even get any money from it. Taking advantage of people struggling is evil asf.

[qwertys7gp]

Hello

hope this message finds you well.

This is Malik, an engineer from Gaza,

Shy to ask, but I really hope you consider what we're going through and help us escape the genocide either by donating or sharing the link with family and friends.

We are currently going through the toughest circumstances one can ever experience as we live in premative and inhumane tents which are home to illnesses and diseases. ❤️‍🩹🙏

https://gofund.me/ff7b55e7

hey guys you should uhm donate cuz im broke asf 🤑🤑🤑🔥🔥🔥

[safety-writes-noms]

pls pls pls can i have some headcanons of miguel as both a pred and prey? he's not prey often for sure, but i bet he's grumpy about it when he is

ofc!! I usually write pred Miguel but I'm good with him as prey. tw vore! NSFW/kink blogs dni

honestly I can't see him enjoying being nommed too much. he's used to being in control and it's almost like a comfort to him in some ways. but when he doesn't have that comfort it causes him to become somewhat aggressive if he doesn't see the reason for why he needs to be nommed. or he doesn't agree with it. Plus he hates being trapped in confined spaces that he himself has not put himself into. Except sometimes when it’s soothing to him like if he’s super tired or something.

its definitely unpleasant because he's probably going to make a huge stink and even when he's the one tucked in a belly, he's still strong asf.

he will however grudgingly chill out if he's exhausted and tired from staring at screens for 40 hours straight. even though he'd rather keep working, he knows he can’t go on forever. Besides it’s really hard not to fall asleep in a warm cushy belly, where his most pressing problem is slime soaking into his suit.

I think he’d taste like something with a kick in it, some sort of spice with an underflavoring of maybe sweetness or saltiness? and then subtle hints of something bitter like coffee to pull it all together. he's delicious but you'll be extremely lucky if you even get a tiny little taste.

if he ever gets nommed for his protection best believe he’s going to argue a whole lot too. anything thats not his terms or not something he asked for results in him immediately getting annoyed. he's spiderman 2099, stubborn asshole genius extraordinaire (affectionate), he doesn't need protection. (he does he just won't admit it)

bottom line is that he won’t like it if it’s not in very specific circumstances :(. Or he’ll pretend that he doesn’t bc he’s such a skrunkly little dude (that man is 6’9 and 310 pounds of pure muscle)

He does actually enjoy nomming sometimes but doesnt really indulge in the instinct much. I’ve said this before but he feels like some sort of inhumane creature when he gets those urges even though most of the time it’s just a deep wanting need for whoever he’s craving to be as close as physically possible to him.

Or when he has a webbed up anomaly, sometimes he has to physically turn away from them so he doesn’t risk gulping them down. But that’s only for when the urge is super intense. He’ll probably satisfy it later with someone he’s close with and knows is fine with it. He knows that if it goes unchecked for too long he becomes increasingly agitated/sullen and he’d rather not deal with that in general.

other times like when he’s in his downtime, he’ll awkwardly ask whoever he’s craving if they’d be fine with being nommed. He knows it’s pretty weird or downright terrifying for people who have no idea how being nommed works. He’ll of the time he just doesn’t ask because he doesn’t want to deal with explaining. He’s just tired and wants a nice meal to fill him up while he naps or does some more work.

Eating food helps a little to stave off that urge simmering in his chest but ultimately won’t really fix it. Like slapping a bandaid on a missing arm (how do u even do that ??). He will be more inclined to nom someone if they ask him to do it for them. After all, if it’s what they want he’s got no objections unless he has to do something that requires a whole ton of physical movement. Miguel doesn’t want them to get hurt somehow even if they’re nestled in his gut. But other than that he’s fine with it.

[kaeyx]

Chuuya uses arahabaki in your presence for the first time and he expects you to be terrified and that you’ll look at him like he’s a monster but instead you say he looked fine asf and wonder if you can use it in your own silly way…

immortal!reader just kissing chuuya right before Dazai nullifies arahabaki so you’re just a little prince turning your lover back to his true form with the “power of love”!

Hehehehe it doesn't have to be an immortal reader it could just be me.....

Anyway yeah it would be very irresponsible to trigger arahabaki just because you want to see it or are turned on by it, but on the off chance you get to see Chuuya like that I can imagine he'd be pretty scared of your reaction. It's the most inhuman part of him after all, a singularity. Safe to say he'd be so relieved that you're just as attracted to him as usual, and he'd definitely offer to put on a show for you if it gets you off. Chuuya doesn't mind letting you tag along on missions with him or roughing you up a bit, if it's what you want to see.

[illusoryfem]

My trendy platform shoes have arrived which is awesome but on other news the two figures i ordered are late asf........it's so serious. There are twoo beautiful girls in dark airless boxes waiting for fhe brazilian postal system to stop being inhumane. They want to come home do you understand

[citylawns]

rhi, have you ever dealt with someone calling you 'ugly'? probably not lmao but i just remember being in middle school where many people called me ugly asf and treated me in inhumanely unfriendly ways, but i'm scrolling through pics from back then and i was literally a baby and she was cute. not narcism lmao... i saw some vile anons here too, so i'm just so confused because i've never thought of anyone as ugly yet others around me are always fussing over something

Oh yes hahaha

I mean I can’t deconstruct the entire concept of beauty and ugliness in this ask and I know you don’t mean that lol but yeah you’re right to look back and realise you were cute and young and innocent. pretty much these things are subjective or related to people trying to use them as a weapon against you, they’re exerting power and control over you and here are two examples from my life that come to mind the most

1. My best friend in secondary school would relentlessly make fun of how I looked especially my “pointy nose”. To the extent I just accepted it was really pointy and that I was ugly. It wasn’t devastating to me but I didn’t feel pretty. I would not complain or anything, I’d just accept that was her idea of humour and shrug it off knowing she was trying to provoke me but I thought there was an element of truth to it. She said it so much as well, it went on for years. She used to compare me to every other female friend she made, telling me how much prettier these other girls were than me. She even said the Chinese exchange student staying with her had admitted she thought I was ugly. Because I was never one to pursue beauty or attractiveness or try and fit in I assumed all of this was true. but my friend was so obsessed with beauty, but she just wasn’t very good at it. she would actively make fun of the pretty popular girls at school for liking make up etc but then clearly would have given her right arm to be accepted by them. the thing is I was naturally taller, thinner and probably prettier than her and it took me years to realise any of those things. It’s a dangerous thing in some ways because it’s wrong to then turn around and use those things as a weapon back (I never ever once made fun of her appearance) but I have to admit I hated her for how she treated me (did lots of other even worse things I won’t go into) and so when I read her personal blog about how desperate she was to get skinny and how jealous she was of me I felt genuine gratification, and I was glad that I never struggled to be thin and I’d always look the way she wished she did. That girl truly brought out the most evil and ugly side of me. But I still never used it as a weapon against her, because in the end I saw that it destroyed her and that was enough for me to feel like I had my vengeance. I’m not proud of that but it’s the truth.

2. The other time isn’t about being called names, but I was picked out and bullied at my second workplace which was a pub and restaurant. I was one of the youngest girls there at about 17 and the older male coworkers would say very derogatory sexually inappropriate stuff to me and I always felt it was because I looked and dressed and behaved a bit differently to other girls. It was never like “oh I’d fuck you” no no no - it was obscene questions designed to make me seem repulsive and sexually weird and I think the idea I could even be sexual was the joke to them, because I was so repulsive.

I was skinny flat chested androgynous and didn’t wear much make up and was a bit awkward. In small towns people pick up on these differences and it freaks them out. So there were a few things that were done to me: called a nymphomaniac and made sexual jokes about at staff drinks, I hadn’t said anything I was just sat there and I didn’t even know what that word meant. I didn’t have friends at the time as I was just getting over being abused by my first boyfriend and having my friends take his side (shout out to the aforementioned best friend) so I made the effort to go to my work after they had finished a shift and invited me out. They had a pint they said they had poured and saved for me before they closed the bar and handed it to me. In that moment I genuinely thought wow, this is what it feels like to be a part of a group (my home and family situation was abusive and very isolating) I was shy and thought it so sweet, I’ve never felt close to people and cared for in a social situation like this, but I took a sip and it was pretty vile and they all started laughing. One of the girls rolled her eyes and said “it’s not a pint it’s all the dregs from the beer mats” meaning they hadn’t poured me a drink, but had collected all the beer waste, all the peoples spit, all the customers sweat, all the snot and whatever else gets caught in beer mats and served it to me to drink. So as I was standing there with this essentially poison drink in my hand, had just been told what it was I had just swallowed, and in a split second I have to decide how to react because I can see I’m being tested and played with, so I take another mouthful and everyone screams with laughter, and I spit it directly into the face of the guy who was the ringleader. I still stupidly go out into town with them because I’m trying to shrug things off and I’m used to people who say they love me physically and emotionally hurting me, the night is okay and they’re not like trying to kill me or anything but if this was a horror film they would offer me up as bait to whatever monster chases us no doubt, anyway the ringleader at one point once again is making me the butt of the joke and he pushes my head “playfully” but he’s so much bigger than me it’s not playful, and I’m now quite drunk and so my head swings so far I stumble and hit the side of my head into a brick wall, the thing is his hand is still holding my head there. He’s a bit drunk too but he just shoved my head so hard the pain was immense. Like my skull properly cracked against this wall. It bled a little bit but was mostly fine, just really sore. The next few days there would be a bump and probably a bruise that was hidden under my hair. But after my head is smacked into a wall the next thing I know everyone is gone, they’re jumping in a taxi and laughing and I’m on my own in the middle of town, drunk, no one else is around and it’s a dangerous area because it’s not like London where there’s always a tube station or people to make you feel watched or safe. The town I spent my teenage years in had a huge problem with heroin use and rape. Only a few months ago a girl had been raped in the gardens I was next to and I felt scared and alone and humiliated. Thank god I had cash to call a taxi to get home because the walk back to my mums house would have been hours. I didn’t have anyone to confide that story in at the time, it was just part of a lot of casual cruelty.

So, I honestly don’t know why or how people do these things.

But it’s not a reflection of you or me, although I felt like it was something wrong with me for many years. And sure, it was because I didn’t fit in enough on the surface level, but I felt like I was truly unlikeable and wrong and despicable. Now I know it wasn’t that, because being a bit odd or strange doesn’t warrant any of those behaviours. People are a mystery to me! I can only imagine the same stuff was done to them their whole lives and they haven’t had the imagination, intelligence or the opportunity to be better. I tried so hard to not be a victim, to not let any of it get to me, and to continue to be around and spar back to the banter but it is exhausting. Now I’m older I have thought about what I was going through at 17 and I cry for that girl. I’m so angry for her too. You learn gradually how to deny these people access to you. It’s hard work and it takes years and you don’t get out unscathed, but it can be done. I don’t think these people are worth worrying about, survive them and then cut them out. I moved cities. I had one good friend from school and even though she hurt me plenty we are still good friends but I met other people because of her who also hurt me but also hopefully loved me a bit too. And I met more people through them and met my boyfriend through them who’s the kindest man in the world. I think you need to sample and experience a lot to know what you want and what you don’t want, if anything positive can be said about these experiences. Much love!!! Sorry this is long lol

[ask-the-scrapper-gang]

Dear Members of the Council.

I am the Director of the ASF and I hear your concerns on what we do. I am willing to set up an online meet up so we can talk. Sincerely.

-👁️‍🗨️The Director

We cut to a darkly lit room with many voices arguing about… something, it’s hard to tell as the many inhuman voices meld together in a cacophony of sound when a notice pops up on a device that can charitably be described as a tablet, silence soon follows, followed by a message sent in response

“Dear Anon Special Forces,

After MUCH deliberation we have concluded this meeting would be mutually beneficial, though to keep our anonymity we will be have a representative attend the meeting, this representative being the station manager of station Alpha-7-B, Korediad Tarc. Weather you do the same is your personal choice.

The Council of The Multiverse Defense And Research Organization”

[apoptoses]

I'm back. Fed my cats, watered my plants, took a shower, had dinner and then finally sat down and finished what I'd started. Mind blown tbh, might be one of my favorite one shots by you now. And listen, Daniel has never not been River in my mind, but your recent posts have rewired by brain chemistry a bit so I pictured him as Spader throughout the fic and let me tell ya, it was an out of body experience holy shit!!!! He might've awoken something in me 🥵 sorry River but you're gonna have to share now 🥵

"but then again, maybe the unnatural was the only place Daniel felt safe anymore. That by coming to love such an inhuman thing human experiences no longer cut it" That's my no. 1 boy!!! Coming to terms with his monsterfucking nature and embracing being unapologetically horny for the death guy, we love to see it.

“Yes, lover?” Armand murmured without putting the magazine down. Daniel rolled his eyes. He reached over and tilted the magazine down until he could see Armand’s face, stark white even in the warm glow of the lamp beside him.“ Can we talk without Cosmo in between us?” Daniel asked." Babies are learning to communicate! With words! Also it's extremely them to finally learn how to voice their needs via their sexual appetite/preferences lmao. The way you also fleshed out Armand's insecurities and uncertainty when it comes to Daniel and what really wants out of things was just lovely. "Yes, sometimes I'm more careful with you than you really know" 😭😭😭 he truly is just trying to navigate this relationship the best he can, he's just had a hard time with not letting his intrusive thoughts win, that's all.

“Oh. You took off your rings,” Daniel said. “You never do that.” Yeah this hit the spot, alright. Completely bare for the first time, fully in it for the experience. It's not just about Daniel getting what he wants now, not anymore.

"Daniel glanced between Armand’s hand and his face, his wide eyes, so dark they looked almost entirely black." full jungle cat mode, my favorite Armand mode. Blown asf pupils because he's that horny, the song of my people 🥹

"The thigh he’d just defiled, one he’d ruin further by coming on it", defiled!!!! at this point I was delirious lmaoo no coherent thoughts tbh just know that it just doesn't get better than this, in DA-verse.

“If there’s some kind of rules to this you better tell me now before I’m not able to stop,” Daniel managed to say between rough, messy kisses. He’d have felt ridiculous being so desperate his teeth clacked against Armand’s but he was too far gone to care." Also THIS. Daniel was beyond all logic here but he still had the decency to ask Armand for permission of some kind, he's so stupid in love and also the most ridiculous human, I love him so.

Life changing, this one. 15/10 no further notes xoxo DA

Dungeon anon I'm gonna cry haha You and desertfangs have been the only ones to make any comment on that fic at all and it feels so awful, but knowing you enjoyed it so much means a lot.

Also WELCOME to the wonderful world of Spader!Molloy, please see my masterpost I posted earlier and drool with me. His backlog of films is just so fucking perfect and his looks are incredible and ugh! I just love picturing him as Daniel.

That's my no. 1 boy!!! <- okay Daniel aside, are you a succession fan? haha Is this a kendall roy reference?

But yes! Making them communicate was the whole point! They're locked into this awful game of 'if I hint will you pick it up?' and 'i see your hint but i don't wanna ask what it means unless you can say it explicitly'. They have the ability to not use Armand's mind gift as a crutch they just gotta use it!

I love thinking about the opposite POV as I write and were that fic from Armand's POV it would be an entirely different story. Because what do you do if someone is saying in their mind 'yes I want this' but they're saying with their mouth 'no, I'm not into that' and then sometimes in their mind they're also like 'no I can't do that'? What do you do? It's so much pressure that I think he would retreat just like he did here.

I love Armand with his rings but I think there's so much intimacy in the idea of him taking them off. They're part of him, they're a symbol of the walls he has up and the defense mechanisms he hides behind, so any time I have him remove them around Daniel he's being the most honest.

Daniel was beyond all logic here but he still had the decency to ask Armand for permission of some kind, he's so stupid in love and also the most ridiculous human, I love him so. <- Exactly, he's always got the drive to get permission even when it's not needed! He loves being out of control. And I love him sloppy kissing, like full on messy teenage makeout mode and Armand being too into it to even tease him about it. They're both a mess!

Anyways I'm so happy you liked it because I don't think anyone else did haha Or they were all uncomfortable with saying so, I guess. I feel super defeated finally getting back on ao3 and getting crickets. But I love that you love it, I loved writing it.

ps- cats? Tell me more! Send pics if you can!

[darkwingphoenix]

I'mma change it to son and daughter because dragon twins.

Anyway, you try to make your twins not follow in the dragon's footsteps.

However, they refuse and start using draconic magic. In a land where draconic magic is seen as your parents having made a deal with dragons. And where dealing with dragons beyond killing them is a sin. And where twins are seen as especially obvious of magical deals.

Anyway, the only reason you're still a paladin when they're teens is because they explain to your order that you did kill a dragon, dragons reincarnate. And the dragon you killed split into two souls, them.

You're on probation and can't take quests without a companion, but your twins are the village hotties, because all the young people see inhuman eyes as hot asf.

You, a heroic paladin have successfully slain a fearsome dragon. But the dragon warns you that death is but a door, and dragons don’t die, they reincarnate. You paid it no mind….until your son was born with golden, slitted eyes.

[highonlife22]

I hate these posts man. Let me live my "small life" with my repeated spiritual deaths and whatnot. Ppl are funny asf for treating women that don't fit in like inhuman freaks and monsters and then once you're sufficiently excluded from normal people society, they start fingerwagging at you about how small and insignificant and worthless your life is. What's actually the point of that. Minions indeed

yes my "small life" is the best i can do. and its already taking everything in me to have this "small life". and these normies will lecture me about it. leave me alone, im not like you, we have nothing in common, i dont want your life.