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clementine-thedestroyer · 1 year ago

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Kinktober day 15/16: Pegging + feminization - Scaramouche x reader

Warnings/tags: Pegging, feminization, fem!reader, Scaramouche is a brat but there’s not really any brat taming. A healthy dose of humiliation, reader being a bit of a brat too.

I mean, I think the title explains it pretty well… I can’t believe I actually posted this.

“This is stupid.” Scaramouche huffed, pouting as you snapped away with your phone camera, planning on preserving his humiliation securely in your camera roll.

He stood in front of you in a light purple pleated miniskirt, a loose white shirt sleeved crop top, and a massively oversized purple jacket you had dug out of the bottom of your closet.

He had done this to himself. He had no one else to blame, honestly. He shouldn’t have made the bet if he wasn’t willing to follow through.

It had taken a bit of a fight, but you had eventually gotten him to hold up his end of the bargain, and god was it worth it. Because now you had your absolute brat of a boyfriend in the most compromising position imaginable, and you were free to have your fun with him for an hour.

“I swear to god, once this is over, you’re going to regret this.” He hissed, glaring at you.

“Oh I’m sure I will.” You responded smugly, cackling as you put a cutesy pink filter over one of the photos you had just taken.

Scara groans, rolling his eyes as he tugged the skirt lower, trying to get a bit more coverage from the, admittedly, very short skirt. “Are you done yet? Can I take this shit off?”

“You said I had an hour, I’m using that hour, Scara.”

He grumbles, rolling his arms and huffing in his usual manner.

You can’t help the grin from sneaking onto your face, turning away to hide it as you give him his instructions. “Get on the bed, on your back.”

In the background, you can hear Scara grumble a protest (something-something, opportunistic pervert) along with the creak of the bed frame as he, in the end, does as he’s told. You ruffle through a bin hidden in the back of your closet, smirking as you find what you’re looking for.

You walk up to him holding the item behind your back with what you’re sure must be an unsettling grin, at least judging by the way his leg is jittering and his eyes dart over you with thinly veiled worry.

You smirk, taking your arms out from behind your back and showing Scaramouche what you have.

A glittery bright purple dildo- in all its excessively hyper feminine glory.

When he sees it, his face drops. “Oh hell no. You are not using that on me.” He growled, scrunching up his nose and giving the overly girly dildo a down right nasty look.

“Oh hell yes. You lost the bet, remember? It’s only fair that you hold up your side of the deal.” You say, smirking as Scaramouche glared at the piece of plastic like it personally pissed in his oatmeal.

You plop yourself onto the bed, swinging your legs up and onto the mattress as you scoot towards Scaramouche. If looks could kill, you’d be a fully decayed corpse right now…

Although the intimidation factor of Scaramouche’s well practiced dirty looks and glances is massively undermined by the fact that he’s achingly hard, dressed in a your clothes, and practically trembling- his eyes following you and the toy in your hand like a cat’s to a feather.

“Poor boy, you’re trying to be all scary- but you can’t help how needy you are, can you?” You ask, reaching to your side and ruffling through the drawer of your nightstand, looking for lube. You can’t help the boost to your ego that comes with how thickly he swallows as you pull out the bottle.

You move back over to Scara, tapping the insides of his thighs in a silent command to spread his legs bad make room.

Once he does, you slot yourself between them, grinning when you glance up and catch the sight of Scaramouche’s bright red half-turned-away face- the back of one of his hands resting against his mouth as his blush steadily deepens.

You grin, leaning forward and spreading his thighs further apart, tapping the side of his hip and giving the simple command of “lift up”.

When Scara does as he’s told- lifting his hips so you can hook your fingers in the waistband of his boxers and pull them off, but leaving the skirt- you can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face.

“Scara, have I ever told you you have a really pretty cock?” You ask, gently running a finger along the head and down his shaft. Scaramouche doesn’t respond, clenching his teeth and drawing a shaky inhale at the feather-light touch.

“You’ve gone awfully quiet, Scaramouche.” You chime teasingly, laughing when all that he respons with is a choked “S-Shut up-”

You lean forward, kissing his cheek and stroking his hair sweetly, giving him a moment of softness before pulling away and letting your face go back to a slightly condescending smirk. “Come on pretty boy, you know you gotta ask for it if you want it.”

Scaramouche’s eyes harden- snapping to you with an outraged look before remembering himself, biting his lip and looking away with a glare.

“I’m waiting.” You say, fiddling with the cap of the lube bottle as you feign impatience.

“You’re the one who wanted to do this. I’m not fucking begging.” Scara replies, spitting out the words like they were poison.

“Then I’m not fucking you.”

“Fuck me. Please.” Scara growled, flopping his hand down onto the pillow and looking away as he mumbled out his half-assed ask.

You grin cheekily, tapping your finger against your cheek and tilting your head in a way that you knew would piss him off. “Hmmm, I’m gonna need you beg a little bit prettier than that.”

“Just fuck me with the damn toy already! I swear to god! You’re such an ass sometimes!!” Scaramouche glares up at you- looking a bit like an angry cat just dumped in a bucket of water.

You laughed, giving in and opening the bottle of lube, squirting a decent puddle onto your hand before tossing it to the side, but still within arm’s reach. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m working on it.”

You coat your fingers, spreading a bit on your other hand before taking Scaramouche’s cock on your hand, jerking him slowly as you start to open him up on your fingers.

Scara tenses up as your fingers enter him- scrunching his face up like he just tasted something sour- at least until you give him a light swat on the ass, a stern command to “relax” falling from your mouth like second nature.

He does as he’s told, taking a deep breath and working to relax his body as you rub a circle into the bottom of the head of his cock with the pad for your thumb, paying further attention to the spot when you’re rewarded with a loud groan for your efforts.

You smile at his noises, working him open gently and slowly while making sure not to hit his prostate yet, instead paying all your attention to the head of his cock.

After a moment, you slip a second finger in, briefly taking your hand off his cock and reaching up to slip your hand under Scaramouche’s top. You grin at Scara’s startled yelp when you grab a handful of his pectoral muscle- squeezing and groping the flesh as he squirmed.

“Pretty tits.” You say, moving your hand to pinch at his nipples.

“I’m not pretty.” Scaramouche growls, a bit embarrassed at your attention to his chest, trying to slip his hands under the relatively skimpy crop top to protect himself from any further gropes or pinches.

You laugh, relenting and pulling your hand away, as you go back to jerking him off.

“You are very pretty. Scara, all the time and everywhere, but especially with this skirt and top.”

He grumbles, mumbling some snarky response or other- only to stop and watch as you press a kiss to the side of his cock, swiping your thumb over the slit and taking his precome, letting it mix with the lube as you spread it over his cock.“See? Look, I told you that you were pretty. Look at this cock, it’s so pretty, Scara. Just look at how needy it is.” You coo, looking up and grinning as Scaramouche turns his face away.

“You know, turning your face to the side doesn’t help when your ears and neck are bright red too.”

When you tease him, he turns his furiously blushing face back to you. Opening his mouth to retort, you press your fingers upwards and into his prostate, relishing in the strangled moan that fell from him instead of his usual snappy comebacks.

At that, you deem him ready. The toy was pretty small anyways- he shouldn’t have any trouble. You take his distraction as an opportunity, pulling your fingers out, grabbing the toy, and hooking an arm underneath Scaramouche’s knees. You bend him over himself, pushing his knees beside his chest and holding him there, giving him a lewd view of his wet cock against his stomach and of you holding the toy, grinning at how he whined when you moved him.

Before he could speak, you push the toy inside, leaning over to speak against his ear as you mercilessly hit his prostate spot-on over and over. “Pretty boy, you’re doing so well for me. Look at you in this cute little skirt, taking the toy so well. Such a good boy.”

Scara yelped- tears gathering in the corner of his eyes as you bullied his prostate- whining and squirming as your pace ratched from about a 4 to a 10.

“See? Look at that pretty cock, do you even need it to cum? Cause I think you can come just from this, can’t you?”

Scaramouche sobbed, his eyes squeezing shut as he tried to reach his hand up to jerk himself off, only for you to grab his hand and pin it under his own body weight.

“No no no- I need- I needa- I-“

You shush him, still pinning him down as you flip a switch at the base of the toy, stopping your movements and instead grinding it almost painfully against his walls instead- watching as Scara seized and twisted in pleasure as the vibrations started up.

“No, no. You don’t need your hand, Scara. You can do it, I believe in you.”

You ground the toy into his prostate as his body tensed and he came with a shout, not stopping even as he spilt cum all over the skirt and crop top, even managing to get a bit on his face.

Once he comes down, you turn the vibrations off, gently unfolding him from himself and pressing kisses to his temple, wiping his tears away and holding him tight as he came down.

You kiss him gently, giving him a tight squeeze before pulling away a bit.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, okay pretty boy?”

He glares, still clinging to you like a lifeline even as he scoffs and turns his nose up at you. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why not? It’s true!”

“No it’s not!”

“Grump.”

“Opportunist.”

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

#scaramouche x y/n #scara smut #scaramouche smut #genshin scara #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader #scara x you #scara x reader #scaramouche #sub scaramouche #scara x y/n #smut #genshin fanfic #genshin smut #fem reader #fem!reader #kinktober 2023 #kinktober

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korraofthereef · 14 days ago

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SOMEONE PLEASE MAKE AN EDIT OF TIMEBOMB TO “Not a lot, just forever” by Adrianne Lenker AND ILL LITERALLY GIVE YOU THE EXACT WAY TO EDIT IT I DON’F EVEN NEED CREDITS I JUST WANNA SEE IT

Not a lot, just forever

honestly this part is optional but I feel like the audio is too much of a kickstart to start with the line below

And your dearest fantasy

stick with me on this. So it’ll be Ekko heaving and conflicted in this scene:

For the entire duration of the lyrics until it’ll transition into the next set of lyrics where… (continue reading under the next lyric)

Is to grow a baby in me

it’ll tradition to Jinx’s face in that scene also for the entire duration of this set of lyrics:

Then slowly fading into the next scene of… (continue reading under the next lyric)

I could be // a good mother

(For the “I could be” part)

Isha running towards Jinx when Vi is abt to kill her (!)

(Now for the “a good mother” part)

Jinx holding onto/trying to push away Isha when held under Vi’s fist.

So the faces are like a parallel of scenes. I would have really liked for the clip shown directly above of Jinx holding Isha to come right after the scene of Jinx on the ground after fight Ekko because then the parallels would’ve matched better but the edit needed more clip transitions and more clarification so it’s kind of a must with this order. So if y’all could maybe make it very clear it’s supposed to be referencing a parallel that would be amazing (!)

And I wanna be your wife

For every syllable we’re gonna transition to a different scene with young Powder and Ekko specifically with these scenes in this order:

I tried my best to explain the syllables=scenes lmao

So I // hold you // to // my knife

(For the “so I // hold you” part)

We’ll start with the quick panning from one scene to another because the lyrics go by quick in this part of the song—so we’ll start with the scene of Jinx holding her gun during “So I” before cutting to Ekko standing there all angry during “Hold you”

(Now for the “to // my knife” part)

The reason I separated the lyric is because “to” drags on for about the same amount of time “my knife” is sang for. So it’ll be the part where Ekko is charging at Jinx with his board and stealing the hex orb thing, then quickly panning to the part where Ekko is getting the upper hand in the fight as he leaps towards Jinx.

Kind of like the first part of the entire lyric block where thy change scenes in between the double slash mark (//)

…also I know all of the clips in this part are very out of order from the actually scene in the show but it needs to be like this in order for a complete poetic masterpiece…

And I steal // your letter

(For the “and I steal” part)

Nowwwww is where Ekko will be looking up at the mural of Powder in the Firelight Base because it’s supposed to be sort of suggesting that he stole one last memory of Powder:

(Now for the “your letter” part)

This is just the second half of the explanation above. It’s just the mural y’all. And honestly, use whatever clip of the mural you want like you could use the one where it’s zoomed in on Powder’s face, or you could use the one where it’s a wide shot that captures Ekko and Vi in the frame.

This is obviously the close up on Powder on the mural,(which is preferred) but honestly if you guys are going through the trouble of making this edit then choose whatever clip for this part bc I’m eternally grateful.

Not a lot // just forever

Because I’m running out of the amount of photos I can add to a post, I’ll merge both side of the double slash lyric scene separation (//) into one photo for explanation

The top clip of young Powder and Ekko will be running for the duration of “Not a lot” and then after that lyric has passed, then the bottom scene of them fighting it out as their older selves in real time will play for the duration of the lyrics “Just forever”

Intertwine // some together

I couldn’t really choose one parallel scene from the finale fight because there’s so many so you guys just take your pick from the groups.

P.S. the scene on the top with the the one playing during “Intertwine” and the scene connected on the bottom half with be the one playing during “Some together”

(I’ll repost with the final photo bc I’m at my photo limit 😭)

ANYWHOOOOO

I was thinking that all the clips should start with high velocity and then quickly move into slow motion for the clips especially because they’re short clips and they’ll go quickly… yeah if you don’t understand what I mean, I guess what I’m trying to say is make it twixtor and then speed it up at the beginning so it’s like smoothing transitioning Ykwim??

Feel fully entitled to transition the clips however you want, you can fade into other clips for more drama idk. Just suggesting slo-mo clips because the scene are short 👍

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physics-of-one-piece · 3 months ago

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Another day, another I'll build castles for you, my love (look at me, not my brother) snippet post. And a poll for you guys at the end bcs I'm left uncertain about a scene, ie whether to put it in or not.

I reached 15.5k words on Rosinante's part, and that's not even with all the descriptions I still need to write (collapses). It consists of numerous things: his life at Marineford & meeting Reader, his friendship with his crew, proposal, wedding, married life, his decision to take on the Donquixote Family mission, and the main part of course being his 2 weeks spent with Law & Reader at the house. I'm gonna put 3 snippets here, one for Rosinante x Reader, one for Law & Rosinante, one for Doflamingo x Reader. All of them are mostly dialogue, bcs I really want to show the vibe of the fic without showing too much, and just the difference between the brothers overall.

Writing some of Doflamingo's thoughts really had me: "YOU ARE NOT IN HOLY LAND, IN FACT THERE IS NOTHING HOLY ABOUT YOUR THOUGHTS, SOMEBODY ARREST HIM OMG 😭😭" the only NSFW for now is just Doffy & his thoughts, and honestly, I'm fine with that being the only nsfw part of the fic? I'm just not yet confident enough writing actual smut, but I'll try it for them both cus they both love Reader 😤

Okay, onto the snippets:

Rosinante x Reader

“Rosinante,” you said. “I think you love your brother.”

Rosinante’s fingers paused mid-way in grabbing the empty bowl. You grabbed it instead, while he stared at you, mouth open, frozen in the moment.

You looked at him, and he felt naked. His heart was beating all around his body, and he wondered if he unconsciously put up a Silent bubble around the two of you, because everything felt so quiet, so intimate.

“If you really hate your brother, then I think it’s fine not to be able to forgive him. But, you’re a really kind person, so it looks to me like you love him despite of everything. It’s really admirable.”

“I won’t ever forgive him for abandoning you,” you said, frowning as you continued picking up the dinnerware. “He isn’t my brother, after all. To me, he’s a stranger who hurt the man I love, so I won’t be able to ever forgive him!”

Rosinante felt like his heart would explode; it was beating so fast, the thumping beats incredibly loud, resounding in his ears. He felt hot all over, and he felt himself starting to sweat.

Your expression softened when you looked at him.

“But, you’re different,” you said softly, staring up at him lovingly. You smiled at him, gentle and beautiful. “And I love that about you.”

That was it. Rosinante's body reached its limit after such words. It caught aflame from the inside, his face turning tomato red, steam exploding from his ears as the blush painted his entire face crimson.

Rosinante & Law (get ready for a gut punch)

“You’re not gonna die!” yelled Rosinante.

“Promise!” yelled Law.

“Of course I -” started Rosinante passionately, but Law cut him off.

“No!” yelled Law. He turned his face up toward Rosinante, and Rosinante felt like all the air was punched out of his gut at the sight of Law’s pleading, agonised face, his big grey eyes full of tears. “Promise if it doesn’t work, if the Op-Op Fruit doesn’t heal me, you’ll take me back here! Where I can… be with you and (Y/N)-san!”

Rosinante’s eyes widened, staring at Law.

Law’s trembling, tiny fingers clenched tight onto Rosinante’s pink dress shirt. “Promise that we’ll go to the beach every day, and we’ll have barbeque with your friends together. They’re not like them… they… they feel real.”

Law went on. “Promise we’ll eat meals together at the table, and pick cabbage and tomatoes together!”

Law… thought Rosinante, his eyes filling with tears.

“And when I start dying…” Law’s voice cracked, and he looked down, his fingers gripping tighter on Rosinante’s shirt, “when it starts killing me… I want you and (Y/N)-san to hold my hands!”

Law sobbed, his body trembling with the force of it, his snot clogging his nose.

“I don’t want to die alone!” cried Law desperately, the words coming from the depths of his chest.

Rosinante’s lips trembled, his heart weeping for the boy. His hands reached out, and wrapped around Law, pulling him close.

“Of course, kid. I promise. I promise, Law.”

“You won’t die alone,” said Rosinante, tears sliding down his eyes.

Law bawled into Rosinante’s shirt, clinging to him tight, weeping. Rosinante held him tight, cradling Law's head to his chest, hugging him close to his heart.

Doflamingo x Reader

“Your husband wasn’t a saint.” sneered Doflamingo, brows furrowed.

“Neither are you,” you replied firmly. “You were going to kill him either way, whether he was a traitor or not. Rosi chose how he would die, and it wasn’t for you.”

You continued glaring at the man swathed in the pink feathers.

It was for Law. All for Law. He wanted Law to be healthy, to be free. Rosinante wanted that so much he was willing to abandon the marines themselves, playing a double game with them and Doflamingo, fooling them both, getting the fruit for Law. Never in his life did Rosinante lie to Sengoku - the man was his adopted father, after all.

Except once.

When he told Sengoku he would stay away from the island.

Doflamingo’s smile fell, his mouth settling into a thin line. For a long, tense moment, he didn’t speak.

Doflamingo smirked, his smile curved like the moon.

“Well, I can imagine how much more it must hurt then, that he didn’t live for you.” he said, the cruel words coming out in a tone of nonchalance, folding his long arms behind his head, putting his right leg atop his knee. He tilted his head toward you, still wearing that devilish smile, and said, “He wasn’t even alive long enough to find out you’re pregnant.”

Your stomach hurt. Your heart wept.

Doflamingo didn’t give you time to recover. He went on.

“And where is he now, huh? Your marine hero? Where is my little brother to protect you from me? I’ll tell you where. Bottom of the sea. Do you want to know why I’m here and he isn’t? Because he let the marines brainwash him, made him hate me, and stuck his nose in my business. I welcomed him back with open arms, without any questions asked, and he spat in my face.”

Doflamingo spoke it all with a smile. Soon, that too, was gone. “Do you want to know why I’m the leader of the family?”

“Because I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty. Because I’m not soft like my father, or my brother. Because I don’t let my emotions cloud my judgement. When there’s a problem, I handle it. If my family is threatened, I protect it, no matter what it takes, no matter who I have to kill. The world won’t bend to a fist with no weight, or a good-hearted fool.”

“And that’s why your husband is dead and you’re stuck with me.” Doflamingo sneered, his grin demonic, wide and cruel, filling your vision. “Because he was the weaker one of the two of us.”

****

Okay, so for the poll, I am indecided on whether Law & Doflamingo should meet/interact at the hospital when the baby is born, as both will be present there in that location. I'm of the thought Doflamingo would, as delusional as he is, let Law do as he pleased with the "oh, he's having an indepentant phase, I'll leave him alone and he'll come back to the fold" attitude since Doflamingo doesn't know Law witnessed him killing Rosinante. But then another part of me is thinking Doflamingo might attempt a grab for Law since Law is still 1) not as strong 2) still young and frail-looking (even despite getting a full ass growth spurt from 110 cm to 150-160 cm after healing himself from the Lead Disease)

Taglist: @fanaticsnail @daydreamer-in-training

Oh, and have this pic of how Law & Rosi would be at home with Reader if Rosi survived. (Because if I have to suffer, so do you + this is def how Law looks like in the fic next time Reader sees him after Rosi's death)

Art source

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so-long-soldier-writes · 6 months ago

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The Light in My Darkness

damon salvatore x gn!reader | requested

summary: after your boyfriend's death, you fell back into old habits. now that he's back, you're having trouble kicking them again.

tags: angst, hurt / comfort, depression, s3lf h4rm, kisses

word count: 1.7k

a/n: i typically don't write for damon, however i feel comfortable writing this subject matter and i'm getting better with understanding his character. honestly, too, i rewatched s7 and i'm starting to love him even more. (i just love the traumatized characters.)

also, i'm not good at titles. my first title had the word 'put' in it, but i stared at it so long, it didn't look like a word anymore and i had to change it. i think i like this one better. i stg, titles are half the reason i take so long to post. whew, anyway... enjoy ❤️

“Stefan needs help at Whitmore,” Damon says hurriedly. He puts his phone in his back pocket and sighs. “Another Enzo situation.”

“Do you want me to come?”

“No, you stay here. I don’t want him anywhere near you, given he’s in one of his moods and would hurt you for no reason.” He gives you a quick kiss. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.”

He speeds out the door a moment later, leaving you alone in the large, empty house. You sigh. Your life is so full of supernatural drama, it’s hard to keep up. Honestly, you’re not even sure what the situation is with Enzo, or why he and Stefan hate each other so much, or how Damon knows what to do to de-escalate their arguments. Of course, Caroline debriefed you on it sometime ago, but with all the craziness happening lately, it pretty much went over your head.

It’s been hard these last few months. Only recently had Damon returned to you from four months after being considered dead, alongside Bonnie, as the other side collapsed with him in it. Those months had been the hardest of your life, and you doubted your ability to make it through them. Losing your best friend and your boyfriend was something you never thought you’d have to endure, yet it happened. Losing them almost killed you, too.

For three years, you were clean. You hadn’t touched a single blade since you and Damon got serious. He gave you a reason to stop without even knowing it, and with a lot of patience with yourself, you managed to kick the addiction. After he died, though, when you couldn’t bear to live without him, you picked it back up. Part of you is pissed for falling back into your old ways, but the other part has convinced yourself it’s what you need to do to survive.

When he came back unexpectedly, you were filled with just as much panic as you were joy. You had him back, but had relapsed majorly, and now have to recount your old steps into being sober again. It hasn’t been easy.

It’s been a couple days since your last time, and while your skin’s no longer bright and swollen, it seems to beg for your attention. You have to plan it carefully, making sure Damon will be gone long enough that he won’t sense the fresh blood. When he grabs your wrists to kiss your face, you don’t want to flinch in slight pain, or let him pick up a chance in your heartbeat.

It’s such a complicated addiction to have when dating a vampire, yet fighting the urges are so hard, sometimes you can’t help but give into them.

The blades in the bathroom are ready for you when you enter. A brand new pack sits in the drawer. The boys won’t miss one or two. The one time Stefan did notice, you blabbered a quick lie about needing one to scrape a bit of food dried to the stovetop. He was in such a rush that day, he didn’t catch any lie, and you were able to smile and flee the scene a moment later. Since then, you make sure to hold onto the one you have until there’s enough to not see one missing.

With everyone seemingly involved in the Enzo situation, you don’t bother to shut the door completely before dragging the blade across your skin. The boarding house is empty, and this bathroom in particular is tucked away nicely behind the stairs. You make a few scattered cuts and watch the blood seep from them. It always seems to calm you in the most grotesque way, and, quite ironically, gives you the perfect dopamine rush that raises your spirits despite the pain. It’s a terrible addiction but with a high reward… until you have to hide the evidence.

That little reminder makes you sigh. Too many scars are hard to hide, and with Damon back, you have to be careful. It would break him to see you this way; that thought alone makes you put down the blade. For a moment longer, you stare at the tricking blood, committing the sight to memory to maybe fend off the next urge. To imagine the blood on your skin may convince yourself it’s there, and maybe you won’t cut the next time you’re so desperate. Maybe.

You reach for a piece of toilet paper to dab the wounds. The bleeding needs to stop before you crave another scare. It’s so tempting, but-

“Hey,” Damon appears suddenly, peeking through the door. His eyes are narrowed, as if sensing something’s wrong. “What are you doing?”

You turn to face him and hold your hands around your back quickly. “Nothing.”

“Are you sure?” He opens the door a little wider, seeing the reflection of your hidden hands in the mirror. “Let me see your arms.”

“I’m okay.” Nervously, you pull down your sleeves to hide your wounds as much as possible. Your eyes meet the floor, unable to lie if you look into his blues.

“No, you’re not.” He argues, anxious to see your face; to not let you shy away and avoid his gaze. His approach makes your heart race, confirming his worst fears. “Let me see.”

“I thought you were leaving. I thought Stefan needed you.”

“He does, but he can wait.”

“But-”

“You’re my first priority. I can tell something’s up. Please,” he brushes a hair away from your face, “let me in.”

“Damon, I’m fine.”

“You’re hurting, and I can smell the blood, and I’m really trying hard not to freak out right now.”

You huff at the realization that he could smell it. You should’ve waited for him to be gone longer before breaking your skin. “Promise me you won’t be mad.”

“Why would I be mad?”

“Just promise me.” Tears well in your eyes, but you let them fall, unwilling to take your hands off your sleeves.

“Y/N, I promise. I could never be mad. Just let me see it.”

Slowly, you release your sleeves, but leave the task of rolling them up to him. You can’t bear to do it yourself. Damon takes one hand gently and pulls the sleeve back. Upon seeing the numerous cuts, he pulls the other back with a little more vigor, but is still careful not to hurt you. He stares, unable to speak or move, as his heart breaks with every passing second.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper. His eyes meet yours and you finally break down into tears.

Without a moment of hesitation, he pulls you into a hug, wrapping his arms protectively around your body. You feel safe in his arms, you always do. Damon has a way about him that always makes you feel safe, no matter what anyone else thinks of him. He’s loyal and understanding, and that is part of the reason you feel so horrible for not telling him this.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, now sobbing into his chest.

Your heart beats and reminds him that you are alive. The cuts made into your skin weren’t deep enough to take you. The pain you have been feeling hasn’t swallowed you whole. He concentrates on your breathing, and your crying, and uses it to anchor himself before asking the thousands of questions flooding his mind.

He pulls away, finally, and wipes your tears with his thumbs. His hands grip your shoulders with a gentle desperation, as if he’s afraid you could dissipate at any moment.

“Y/N…”

“I didn’t mean for you to find out this way.”

“Did you mean for me to find out at all?”

Your heart feels heavy as you reply, “honestly, no.”

“Why not tell me, Y/N? You know I love you. If you’re hurting, I want to be there for you.”

“I know… I guess I just didn’t want to disappoint you? Some part of me was embarrassed about it, and I didn’t want you to see me differently because of it. I don’t know.”

“Baby, there’s nothing you could do that’d ever make me love you less. Nothing that would ever make me feel a different way, or see you in another light.”

“I know. I know my feelings are totally irrational, I just… they’re fears.”

“I understand.” He kisses your forehead, then releases your shoulders to hold your hands and kiss them, too. “Hey, can you promise me something?”

“I can try.”

“Come to me the next time you’re feeling like you want to hurt yourself, okay? Let me help you through it.”

“But-”

“It doesn’t matter what’s going on, or who’s texting, I will drop anything and put you first. But you gotta let me in when you need it. Okay?”

“Okay.” You take a deep breath. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Now,” he pauses, biting into his arm and holding it out for you to drink. His other hand meets the back of your head, stabilizing your neck to keep you comfortable.

To his dismay, you refuse. You try to pull away, but his other hand prevents that, so you look down instead. “I can’t.”

“Y/N…”

“The scars are a reminder that I bleed. As soon as they fade away, the urge returns, but if they’re there for a little while, the urge is less strong. They’re kind of a comfort, I think. A reminder.”

“So you don’t want me to heal them?”

“I’d rather not. They don’t bother me too much. Do they bother you?”

You can see the hesitation in his eyes. He fights with himself, knowing the sight is a reminder of your pain, but understands their existence helps you heal. After a moment, he shakes his head. “No, baby, I only care that you’re safe.” He kisses them one more time. “Have you eaten much today?”

“Not really.”

“Well… do you mind if I make you something, even if it’s just something small, and then we can sit together on the couch? We’ll take today slow.”

“Okay. Wait, but what about Stefan?”

“Caroline can handle it. Then he’ll be in her debt and she’ll be happy about it,” he jokes.

You smile, appreciating his humor despite the somber mood hanging above both your heads. He’s the light in dark times, the much needed laugh that breaks the awkward silence. It’s part of the reason you fell for him so quickly.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Okay. And thank you.”

He pulls you in to kiss your forehead, then reaches for your hand. “Of course.”

#damon salvatore x reader #damon salvatore x gn!reader #tvd fanfiction #tw: s3lf h4rm #tw: sh #damon salvatore fluff #hurt/comfort

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mizzcap · 15 days ago

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anya x reader pretty please with a cherry on top??? she deserved better -m-

ofc my lovely!❤️

Synopsis: the Tuplar is saved! Expect they crash landed on- Aeaea?

ANYA × CIRCE!READER

TW: Jizzard (gets killed in part 2), slight gore mentioned, post crash curly appearance mentioned, possible allusion to rape

Reader is implied to be Female! However I will keep the pronouns vague as too allow for anyone to place themselves in the role!!

A bit of a song fic

-Anya was woken up the moment she felt a jolt rush through the ship

- tired eyes instinctively trailing off to Curly, almost wincing on instinct upon seeing the state of her captain. She will never be used to that sight

-jimmy was the first to find the hole in the ship, they crash landed on some kids of Island. Where they back home?

-no

-earth didn't have these weird.. cloud things

-Anya would later learn they were called Winions

-she was instructed to go first, despite Swansea insistence that the "Captain who carries all of the power should carry the burden of being first"

-the others trailed behind Anya (Swansea holding Curly) as she approached a tall set of palace door

A beautiful person in what seemed like a loose greyish toga that hung over their chest. Their waist was secured with a golden belt and they wore no shoes, though their ankles and wrists were adorned with golden bangles

Long pointed ears twitched upon seeing the group, More specifically when their eyes zoned in on Anya

A smile found its way onto their face as they hopped back a few steps, opening their arms as they allowed for the group to enter

"Come inside!"

"damn" Jimmy whispered and whistled, making Anya Cringe a bit as she hesitantly continued

"welcome to the best part of your lives" their hands ghosted down Swansea's shoulders

"go ahead and rest wherever you like!" Fingers ghosted over Curly's bandaged head as they slipped open a large door before they spun, facing Anya as the men walked into the room

"I've got you .. (Y/N)'s got you now"

Something about that felt more... reassuring- calming even. Anya blinked away tears she didn't realize we're forming as the witch-..

(Y/N)

Turned away as walked into the room, Anya following close by.

The room was lavish. Magenta and gold decorations covered the otherwise white walls. Giving it a sort of mythical or unreal light

"take a seat!" They insisted, handing pressing on Daisuke's shoulders as he plopped down on a cushioned seat.

Magenta wisps of light swirled as what looked to be trays of snacks and drinks were manifested, all with the words "Let me bring you all something to eat!"

"I bet you're tired from the time spent on your feet" they took place next to Jimmy, positioning their torso as their hands found his shoulders, hot breath in his ear "think of your past.. and your mistakes. They'll be the last mistakes you make..." They muttered lowly in his ears as he stuffed his face with the breads Infront of him

Squealing

Horrifying- horrible squealing broken through as she pulled away from Jimmy.

Jimmy fell to his knees, clawing at his neck in a panic as he tried peeling off the pig snout that once had been over where his mouth and nose was

Anya gasped and slapped hands over her ears, shutting her eyes. Tears welled up as more squeals followed soon after, turning into a trio of painful swine cries.

"stop! You're hurting them!" Anya pleaded.

Daisuke and Swansea. Honestly, fuck Jimmy.

"this is the price we pay to live" the being gently cupped their hands over Anya's ears, blocking her view of the Swines as they painfully transformed. Despite the two pairs of hands blocking the sound, Anya could still hear the witch as bold as day

Yellow cat-like eyes fixed on Anya's dark and downsloped ones. The yellow pair almost going softer as they stared into Anya's.

They slowly led Anya back out of the room "no one will find their way between my nymph's and I- their loving queen"

Fingers ghosted down Anya's cheek, pushing back loose hair that stuck to her face- the girl sweating from stress and anxiety.

"this is the price we pay to love" the queen frowned as they tried reassuring the nurse. Wide yet dark eyes darting behind the queen to try and see her friends. Worry welling in her chest for Daisuke, Swansea, and Curly..

Once again fuck Jimmy

"we draw the line and watch from above"

"you're playing with my friends and hurting them!" Anya protested, tears peaking from the corners of her eyes

"I don't play, I puppeteer" the queen's words were harsh a bit hurt as magenta wisps shut the door, blocking off the swines from Anya and (Y/N)

(I WILL MAKE A PART 2 SOON DW ❤️)

#mouthwashing game #Mouthwashing #mouthwashing curly #mouthwashing anya #mouthwashing jimmy #anya x reader #daisuke #jimmy #Curly #Anya #Swansea #swansea mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing

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mikodrawnnarratives · 1 year ago

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I just remembered a project I worked on for a while in like 2021 (maybe 2020) and it had a LOT of akumatized marinette's

That was the idea behind the whole thing but man I did one by one and found some of the most obscure akumatized marinette au's

Sooooo I'm dragging these drawings up from the ashes and maybe it'll be a nice surprise for some of y'all to see

yall got ✨fanart✨

and possibly reminded of miraculous ladybug HA

usually these were done on different canvas's (that were like 250x250) and then just... copied onto a larger canvas??? Mistakes were made and I was insane

A handful of these akumanette's were actually made by me cause apparently... roughly 18 other marinette's wasn't enough

Click for quality and this is a long post

First of all, shoutouts to my own akuma abominations creations.

First image, the ladybug with the red long hair? yeah the idea was the akuma bug seen in canon in like, s2 (also shown next to her) but updated for the new look in s4. Vry original we'll give it a 6/10

I don't remember too much for the middle one that is slightly dimmer. Though I do remember that was the kind of IDEA behind her. She's also holding a knife cause of course. Why have magical powers to kill people when you can harness the power of K N I F E 7/10

I remember a little more about the jester marinette in the back. She had a whole thing with medieval research, jester research, and she also wanted to stab Lila cause everyone wanted to stab lila at the time. 9/10 cause I had a fun time with her

Then the robinhood poster mari was a robin hood akuma mari. 3/10 not original

Slightly canon to downright canon

Ladyblanc was a popular akumanette idea so slightly canon, I didn't base it off of anyone's au

Ladybug and Marinette are there because what's the fun of a crossover if the og doesn't get to panic along with the rest of them????

Last image, not talking about persecuter, we'll get to her in a bit. I just thought it would be funny at the time if I included Chloe and Antibug cause... haha

Antibug is kinda an akumatized lb rip off soooo

OTHER'S AU'S

what you've been waiting for

Thank god I kept track of credit (pats past me on the back)

First of all, at the very front we got @zoe-oneesama 's devil au that made an updated appearance in her scarlet lady au, love to see it

You'll also notice little devil bug on lb's knee in the sketch

Alopeka is to the left of Devil au, by @piearsonist

hi betcha you never would have guessed you got FANARTED HA

This is a post that explains that akumatized marinette, and you'll find more if you go to her page

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAND

Princess justice at the right by @kibouwmlb (also, hello hi, surprise) and honestly it is SUCH a pretty design OMYWORD I love the watercolors

Twiddling her thumbs, minding her business. Remember the release of Descendants 3? Yeah, Queen of Mean baby. And MORE by @shiinaeu hi you are a legend to me

This was so fun to draw at the time and I was experimenting in ways I hadn't before. Peak youtube miraculous ladybug fixation meeting art interest. First one of the characters I did fun fact

@edendaphne betcha you didn't expect fanart of that one scorpion akumanette well THINK AGAIN (also, crazy that this was around when I did your dtiys I just realized, huh)

ANd then slightly more obscure, though the post does have 173 ish notes so, is @skullqueensart 's akumanette right here

Why does akumanette have sunken cheeks here? I have no clue honestly. Take it up with me from 3 years ago and maybe you'll get answers who knows. She's also just... chilling. Looking at nothing. Into the abyss.

Not now chloe's, we are discussing persecutor now.

Love the story idea honestly and the akuma design is so god tier AKUMA that oof @yiprincessart I love it

Oh uh, and chloe will be fine

CAN👏I👏 TALK👏 ABOUT👏 HER

She is the moment, she is beauty, she is grace

@artist-from-outersp-ace I love her. She looks so SO pretty!! At the time I loved your artstyle and I still do!! Too bad at the time I didn't know that Tumblr works by reblogging. I will be amending that.

I also remember being SO frustrated when drawing her that I didn't get a timelapse saved in time to show the drawing process :(

But I did love figuring out folds in the dress and the coloring process! Figuring out how to replicate elements in your art!

srs guys. Look at the RUFFLES

Alright, we are all agreeing to be accomplices and bystanders to Akuma jester marinette's NOT MURDER murder of Lila in the background? Okay good.

@lunian I have fanart for you~

And when I tell you I struggled with her design, I STRUGGLED. I ended up satisfied in the end but the curls bro, we lost the curls

But I do love her concepts and powers and I did back then too

And next to her, Okay, I never fully finished, mostly because I couldn't figure out how to get the hand to work with the tray balance thingie

@ladybub made this Lady Justice design and I WILL BE THERE when the comic updates. Or... if they aren't able to continue the comic that's also fine too <3 Life happens

Still love this au and the unique way for Marinette to get akumatized! Me and my sister bonded over our love over it!

I think this might be the first akumanette that isn't on tumblr to my knowledge. They are on Instagram tho @stivenwithani

Anyway I really liked the concept and the design just, reeked, of akuma that I included her

Okay more that I didn't really finish

We got another Princess/Lady Justice akuma idea at the left. Which I never kept track of the credit DANG IT I WAS DOING SO WELL

I'll update if I find the credit but man the OG did really well with the art.

And I have this akumanette comforting Lacrima from... a very graphic and whump fanfic Longest Night, read the tags

Anyway, Lacrima needs all the love she can get (also, funny enough, is the oldest out of this "gathering" of akumanette's)

It's not finished but hey @p-artsypants I gave angst ridden Lady Lacrima friends and fanart so.... yay...

AND THEN THE LAST ONE

was victim to so much reposting I could never find credit for it- UNTIL NOW

but the artist unfortunately deactivated their blog so that explains why I couldn't find their username all that time ago

It was a cool idea and I always love when creators take inspiration from how similar Marinette's name is to another word for a kind of puppet "Marionette"

But before I forget, I'll end this post on one of my akumanette's that I tried to squeeze in but never got to. But I did make more art for and I remember the story!

I remember having a background planned but I never really got around to it. Basically the story was that marinette got akumatized but managed to take off her earrings in time. I think the reason for her akumatization was connected to figuring out the secrets that Emilie had been hiding with the peacock miraculous (BEFORE we knew that adrien was a sentimonster).

Tikki had to bring the earrings to Chat Noir and he had to find someone that looked ENOUGH like Ladybug that Hawkmoth wouldn't notice as much that Ladybug wasn't actually there. Enter Mireille cause at the time a few people were pointing out how similar she looked to the dupain chengs.

Akumanette's powers had something to do with casting depression? I think? In the form of dragons? Oh, Also she travels by walking on the dragons so thats cool

I don't remember everything but I did have a lot planned for her.

10/10 just because I had a fun time with her

#tw old art #Don't Cringe at Old Art Challenge GO #long post #rambling about art and stories #akumatized!marinette #akumatized marinette #I'll add all the tags for the others ltr #miraculous ladybug #lady justice #princess justice #akumatized ladybug #I put this in my drafts in april and it's time to stop being socially anxious and just post it

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starlight-writer · 1 year ago

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How They Cuddle

A/n: Started this while I was stuck in traffic with a tornado warning going on. Later found out 4 touched down around me so basically God said I couldn't die until I posted this

Warnings: none, fluff, angst, semi serious? Talks of death, read with that in mind on Jake's part

Gn! Reader Masterlist

Steven

Tummy hugger

Doesn't matter the size, how hot it is inside, he will latch onto your waist and rest his head on your tummy

Prefers a bare tummy so he can feel your soft skin, but he's happy as long as he gets to hold you

And if you pet his head or play with his hair too? He's a goner

Those sleeping problems he has from time to time? Gone

Those night terrors that keep him up for hours? A thing of the past

He sleeps best when it's with you and when it's on your perfect, soft, warm tummy? He sleeps like a baby

There are, of course, nights where he's had a really bad day and he needs a bit more from you

Those are the nights where he'll ask you to lay on him

He wants to be surrounded by the thing he loves the most

And if you even try to say 'oh, I'll crush you!' he will forcibly pull you on top of him

"Yea right, you forget I was an avatar of Khonshu, love. I'm buff as fuck." He would mumble while burying his head in your hair or shoulder

It's not necessarily a lie, but it gets you to laugh

Pressure therapy is strong with this one

He has so many weighted blankets, it's ridiculous

And usually he doesn't use them now that he has you, but when there are days when you're not home or don't feel like cuddling, Steven will break out his massive pile of weighted blankets

It's honestly really cute seeing Steven all bundled up and only his head poking out of a mountain of blankets

Marc

Lays directly on top of you

Lowkey scared of crushing you so it takes a while for him to admit how he'd prefer to cuddle, but it happens eventually

Marc wants to protect you, you're the love of his life and he couldn't take it if he lost you

So he lays on you to be your shield

If anyone breaks into the apartment, which they probably wouldn't even make it past the front door before Marc absolutely destroys them, but if they do he's the first one they'll attack

And as long as you're safe, he's happy

It's a deeper reason than the others, but it's true

If he's had a bad day, it'll be different

He'll curl up into you, looking so small and vulnerable

He'll bury his face in your chest and hold onto you like you're his life line

Which you are

If you play with his hair and rub his back, maybe even hum to him, he'll pass out in no time

He feels safe in your arms and while he's not used to feeling so vulnerable, he feels like he can be with you

On the other hand, there are very rare nights where Marc will ask you to suffocate him

Not really, of course

He just needs the pressure of you laying on top of him to chase away his dark thoughts

Works every time

Not during nightmares though

Never try that during or after a nightmare

Marc will panic so hard, he might accidentally hurt you and he would rather die than do that to you

Jake

Jake is a little different than Steven and Marc

He doesn't have a preference of cuddles, as long as he can feel your skin somewhere on him, he's ok

It's not in a weird way though

If he can feel your skin, he can feel how warm you are and if he can feel how warm you are, he knows you're not dead

It's morbid, but he's seen so much and caused so much death so he's trying to reassure himself that you're not dead too

He'll have his hands under your shirt and resting on your hips, or hike your leg over his hip to feel your thighs, or sleep with his cheek pressed against your tummy

Anywhere is fair game to him as long as you're comfortable

But then there are nights where he would rather die than feel your skin

It's usually nights where he's had to kill quite a few people and while he usually handles death quite well, he has you now

He's learned to be something other than a tool for Khonshu and a shield for Marc and Steven

Those nights, he'll lay next to you and watch you breathe

The only part of you he touches is your wrist to feel your heart beat

Similar to Steven, he will ask you to occasionally lay on him, just so he can feel you pressed up against him

Not in a sexual way, though he's not ashamed to admit he would enjoy that, just in a way so he can feel a bit more of you than he normal would

And honestly, when as asks you to lay on him, it leads to some kind of make out session

#marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #marc spector #marvel #jake lockley #moon knight #steven grant #jake lockley x gn!reader #marc spector x gn!reader #steven grant x gn!reader

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krispycreamcake · 3 months ago

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Reiji's perfect gift

From author: I'm gonna try just a tiny different writing style today sooo enjoy

Edit: I'M GOING TO KILL MYSELF OH MY GODDDDDDD I POSTED THIS BY ACCIDENT AND TRIED TO CNP IT BEFORE I DELETED IT BUT IT ONLY GOT LIKE ONE SENTENCE. I AM LEAVING THE EARTH.

"Mmmm... That's- hnng- good..." I grunted out in relief as I felt their gentle fingers easily glide across my aching muscle, pulling and tugging until I could no longer hold in my voice. Just the feeling of them on my skin made me instantly fall into a state of relaxation and pleasure.

Once they were done, I rose up from the bed and rolled my shoulders. "Thank you, I do appreciate it." The words left my mouth as if butter had been smeared all over my lips. I turned around to face them, looking into their eyes. I wish I could've stayed longer but I had important duties that couldn't be dismissed.

Truth be told, I've been certainly stressed out these past few days with the events father had planned for us. Convincing my no good brothers was hard enough as it is to attend, but making sure they don't make a fool of the Sakamaki name would be the harder issue at play.

"Reiji? You're kinda zoning out, you ok?" I heard their voice and immediately snapped my attention back to them. I cupped their face with a gloved hand and grazed their cheek with my thumb. "It's nothing you should be worrying about. I'm just focusing on making sure everything turns out the way father expects it to." They quirk an eyebrow at me before giggling.

"What's so funny?" I ask. "Well if things turn out the way he expects it to, then wouldn't that be a disaster?" I grin as the joke registers to me. As much as I do appreciate the humour, it was just another reminder that without me, this family would completely fall apart.

"I suppose you're right. Truly I couldn't imagine them being on any kind of behaviour, so it'll be hard to make sure they're even on their best one." They look at me a bit despondent as if they know what has to happen now. "Goodnight. I do hope you have a good rest, if you need me, you know where to find me."

I watch as their hands grab onto mines, not saying a word. It would be so easy to ignore what must be done and just stay here with them, but I'm afraid that that's just not in my character. "Don't look so troubled, you'll feel my fangs soon enough."

"I watch as their expression changes from one of surprise to embarrassment. What a predictable human. "I assume that's why you're so against letting me go no?" As their unbelievable fibs reach my ears, I can't help but think about how I'm only wasting more time. I say my farewells and immediately head to the game room to check on my brothers.

"Really Ayato, you never fail to disappoint me." I watch as he freezes in his spot, pool table clutched in hand. "Shit.... Reiji." I sigh before crossing my arms. "I don't expect anything from you other than to slack off, but even then you prove to me time and time again that you cannot be trusted with anything. You can't even set an example for your younger brothers! You agreed to come to the gathering and claimed that you had read the event's guidelines, yet here you are lazing off and playing games! You understand the severity of your situation don't you? Of all of us? We are to present the family's greatest accomplishments over the years and yet we have nothing to show for it."

I fix my glasses as my voice grows Stern and tense. "Tch- why don't ya take that damn stick outta your ass and have fun for once? Isn't today supposed to be your special day?" If I didn't have more important things to attend to, I'd slap that imprudent little boy across his face. Where does he honestly get the audacity to speak to me of all people like that?

"You know that as vampires, our birthdays are rather pointless and tiresome to celebrate. I am not some weak mortal that needs to be pitied for having gained another year to my age. Kanato, your advanced math class is having a meet-up tomorrow, you will be attending. Laito, I've arranged for you to be giving a tour in the demon world where you'll be teaching others about our history and culture, all your notes and resources are on your desk. Ayato, you have been designated to attend tomorrow's ball along with Subaru. You all have your work cut out for you so I don't expect anyone to be slacking off."

They luckily knew I wasn't asking but still, neither seemed pleased to be bossed around. "I think I'd rather die than have an old guy like you tell me what to do you know." Laito spoke with firm determination, I could see it in his face and sense it in his voice, no matter how smooth of a tone he may put on.

"These are not my wishes, I am simply carrying out our duties and making sure you low-lives don't drag the Sakamaki name through mud." I quickly spat back at him. Why must they oppose every single thing I say? I'm doing this for them! I sigh before taking my leave.... Until I heard Kanato murmur something under his breath.

I snapped my head towards him. "Speak up, it's rude to mumble, you're no longer a child anymore Kanato." I watched as Kanato looked at the floor, fiddling with that teddy bear of his before finally speaking up with such dead eyes.

"Teddy and I think that you should just leave if everything's such a bother to you.... You don't care about us anyway, but I can't say that we all don't feel the same! Uuu..... You want to abandon us, leave us here to rot!" I was almost taken aback before Kanato started to sniffle and cry like a child that lost its mother.

I once again adjusted my glasses before giving them all a stern look. I head back to my room to review the letters we received after a certain good-for-nothing let them stack up without informing anyone that they were delivered in the first place.

Just as I climbed the stairs, I immediately noticed that they were there. Watching perhaps? Sometimes I just don't know what's going on with that person after it seems like I have everything figured out. "It's highly unbecoming to ease drop on other's conversations."

I chuckle as I watch them jump in surprise. I grabbed their hand before giving their wrist a slap with my index and middle fingers. They wince at the jolt of pain before yanking their arm away. But something wasn't right.... Their usual playful stature in moments like these, was replaced with what I could only concur as annoyance and anger.

"Is something the matt-" My ears were immediately assaulted by a loud berating. "How could you not tell me it was your birthday??? Are you insane?? We spent the entire day doing nothing! I could've made you a cake or something or- or I don't know! Get you a present at least! You told me 'not to worry about it' when I asked because it didn't matter!"

My face drops and I feel exasperation creep up on me. "Is that what this is all about? I believe you heard my explanation when I was speaking to Ayato, I won't repeat myself because you refuse to listen to anything that isn't what you want to hear. I've explained before that I'm busy, so if you don't mind, I'll be taking my leave."

I walk past them before things could escalate more. I tried to remain as composed as I could but everyone seemed to be additionally unintelligent today. Truth be told, I couldn't care less! My birthday? Ha..... What a joke, it should be forgotten and buried with that woman.

I turn the knob on my door and see my room in the state of a pigsty. I hurriedly closed the door as it let out a small slam. "Hm, it seems I've let this place get the best of me. I don't have time for tidying right now..... I need to-" I don't know what overtook me, or perhaps I did, but I slid down the wall and thre my head back, tears streaming down my face. What a fool I've been, running around catering to others and I shut them out when they try to do the same.

"Yes?" I look down to see them... But not just them. The triplets are outside as well and Subaru even. A warm yellow glow was radiating off of their face. Candles that were stuck inside a strawberry shortcake.... My eyes grew wide as I realized. I didn't say a word as I opened the door for all of them to come in. Ayato was the second to bolt inside holding a bottle of wine.

It's that damn person's fault! Ever since they got here, they've made my life hell! Their outrageous tendencies to check in on me, to care for me, to hold me! How could they..... Make me see my own flaws, make me feel this way? I hear a knock on the door and immediately stand up, drying my eyes and taking a second to breathe before opening it.

"Happy birthday dear Reiji~ happy birthday to you!" I unintentionally gave a small smile as I listen to all their uneven voices try to sing in harmony, it was absolutely awful. But I can't say I didn't enjoy it nonetheless. "Thank you all.... And I'm assuming this was your idea?" I asked them.

They tried to be humble but I knew they really enjoyed the praise they got from me. I opened the bottle of wine and poured everyone a glass, using the ones I keep locked away in my room. They all seemed surprised to see me bringing them out.

I can't remember how many drinks we'd all had, but when they kissed me.... I can't explain it. It was more sweet than any blood that I've ever tasted, more delicate than the finest of pastries. In fact, if it wasn't for that kiss, I don't think I'd recall that night at all.

I feel a presence behind me and before I could see who it was, they left. The only thing to indicate that there was someone there in the first place, was a small store bought card with the words 'happy birthday' written on it in an ugly font with bright colours. "Hmph, you really are good for nothing."

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lassieposting · 9 months ago

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So like. I've seen plenty of posts discussing CatNap's death scene, the Prototype's involvement, and whether CatNap was betrayed by his mentor or willingly sacrificed himself, but there's one detail that nobody seems to be talking about. So imma bring it up, because it's relevant, it's important, to the point that we might actually only be seeing half the interaction between them.

Prototype is telepathic.

Or at least, he's something similar. It's strongly hinted at throughout his story:

Prototype manages to befriend Theo, despite the fact that he's kept locked in the labs under constant surveillance. Theo's artwork implies he believed Prototype lived under his bed. It also shows that he was - at least partially - aware of what Prototype looked like, as he drew an accurate representation of Prototype's mechanical arm. So how were they communicating? Likely via telepathy, with Prototype reaching out to Theo from the confines of his cell, and possibly projecting an image of himself for Theo to interact with. Theo feels safe with the fearsome-looking Prototype when they meet in person, which would suggest that Prototype is, by then, a familiar face.

Prototype's influence is clear in the video tapes, such as the instructions for moving a Bigger Bodies toy or the Emergency Alert video - he overrides the original content with new instructions like "RELEASE THE GIANT" or "OPEN THE DOORS. THE HOUR OF JOY IS NOW." And it's implied that this "tampering" came hand-in-hand with some kind of telepathic hold on the Playtime workers - they do release Kissy, against all common sense, despite the original instructions being visible beneath Prototype's override, and at the cost of their lives. It makes me think that the "tampering" is actually more of a side effect - that the control Prototype is projecting is so strong that he affects not only the minds of the workers he's targeting, but also any communication media within range - the messages on the VHS tapes are the orders he was pushing into their brains, flash-framed on film. Perhaps, if a worker had picked up a phone to call for help, they would only have heard a cacophony of voices insisting release the giant release the giant release the giant.

DogDay mentions that he and the other Smiling Critters - minus CatNap - "tried to resist [Prototype's] control". It's said in a way that suggests that Bigger Bodies who weren't fully on board with the Hour of Joy were... let's say "encouraged"...to participate, willing or no, via a helpful jolt of Assuming Direct Control. Given how docile she is most of the time, this could also be true of Kissy, who we see joining in with the massacre.

At the end of Chapter Three, the player joins Poppy on an elevator to go confront the Prototype in his lair. Which is weird, because...we know he's not in his lair. We've just seen him kill CatNap, and by this point we know he's likely been tailing us for a while. The Player would know, as they got onto that elevator, that Prototype can follow them down and trap them. But they say nothing to Poppy, their apparent ally. They don't warn her. Why? Maybe Prototype isn't letting them. If he could reach Theo in Playcare from the labs, deep in the bowels of the factory, it's not unreasonable to suggest that he's also in our head, subtly monitoring our thoughts, gently nudging away any desire to raise concerns with Poppy - who, as we know, wants Prototype dead.

So anyway: we know that Prototype has some variety of telepathy. And we know he has a preexisting connection with Theo - now CatNap.

Now, onto the actual death.

Lots of people have already covered the popular theories - that CatNap willingly offered himself to his god, and that CatNap believed the Prototype had come to save him and was cruelly betrayed. But honestly, on first watching, neither of those were the vibe I got. So I'm gonna throw my theories into the ring.

1) CatNap's death was a mercy kill

The first was that it was a mercy kill. CatNap is, at the end of the chapter, electrocuted to the point of collapse, and then horribly burned. There are no scientists left who can tend to the injuries of a Bigger Body creature. CatNap would be in horrifying pain, and if - as I've theorized here - Prototype all but raised CatNap, it could be that the death he provides is intended to put a quick end to CatNap's suffering. A mortally wounded apex predator will often become the target of groups of smaller, subordinate predators - like the swarming Critters in CatNap's territory - once they are dying and unable to defend themselves. Severing the spinal cord and targeting the brain would take away the pain, and make sure the death was as close to immediate as possible. If he'd wanted to hurt or punish CatNap, he could very easily have done so in a far more agonizing way - Miss Delight says that CatNap reports to Prototype, so they seem to be in relatively regular contact with each other and CatNap has few or no reservations about entering Prototype's territory to see him.

From this perspective, it also becomes interesting that Prototype reaches down to CatNap through a vent it's highly unlikely he could fit into, rather than fully appearing in front of us. Bearing in mind their mental connection, left open in the background of their minds, this could actually be seen as Prototype having an understandable and realistic caregiver panic response to CatNap's sudden, all-consuming agony - he wants to get to CatNap as quickly as possible, and he's picked a physically problematic route because it's faster.

2) CatNap's death was the Prototype fixing a problem he created

It's a sad truth that our children - or, in the Prototype's case, the young friend he assumed responsibility for - don't always grow into people we're proud of.

I've talked before about the Prototype's "parenting" as a positive influence on CatNap, and in several ways, it is - relative to the world they're trapped in.

CatNap is spared from the utter social isolation other experiments endure - he has Prototype to play and socialise with, which allows him to grow up with improved social skills and better ability to read people.

CatNap has a protector during the early years of the food shortage, once the toys begin turning on one another. Theo is shy and gentle, not naturally inclined to violence, so Prototype's protection probably shields him from becoming someone else's lunch at least once.

CatNap has someone to teach him to fend for himself. While Prototype's digestive system is vestigial - he doesn't need to eat to survive - he's an accomplished killer and it seems as though CatNap learned many of his hunting techniques from his mentor. It's likely that he would have learned to hunt the way young animals do - at first, Prototype hunts and kills all his food for him. Then Prototype brings back mostly-dead prey for CatNap to finish off. Then CatNap starts practicing his skills on small prey under Prototype's supervision, growing in confidence and competence until he no longer needs help, and then until he's fully self-sufficient.

But let's face it, Prototype is not exactly the world's most well-adjusted or morally upstanding individual. He's been imprisoned for decades. Tortured. Experimented on. He's deeply traumatised, his worldview irrevocably twisted in the name of survival. He's got a documented history of violence and as-yet-unquantified psychic abilities - the telepathy - that could be wreaking absolute havoc on his psyche. And CatNap is a young, impressionable mind who idolises him.

Now, we don't know how Prototype feels about the cult that's sprung up around him. It's entirely possible that he's thriving on it, that he's bought into his own mystique and begun to see himself as a god with the factory as his domain. @hrhowling came up with a fantastic theory along these lines, where CatNap's death is posed as a reward for faithful service - the opportunity to become part of his god and achieve immortality. A show of favour towards a loyal high priest. And if Prototype does appreciate the worship, honestly, this seems the most likely scenario to me.

But it's also just as possible that he's...not a fan.

It's a popular theory that "Ollie" is the Prototype, known to be a vocal mimic, using a child's voice to win the Player's trust. I vibe with this theory - Ollie's speech and tone is...not quite right, and there are multiple points where he sounds like his sentences are made up of different audio clips stitched together - stitched neatly, admittedly, but stitched nonetheless. That's very similar to the way we see Prototype stitching together words in different voices in his interview tape. Ollie's stitching is far less noticeable, but Prototype has had a long time to practice, and he's using the same voice - probably Theodore Grambell's, the child he's most familiar with - so it's not as obvious.

But if Ollie is the Prototype, that sheds a very different light on his character in general. Ollie is helping the Player. Ollie is known to Poppy and Kissy as an ally. Ollie opens up about CatNap, his history with the Prototype, and expresses obvious distaste around CatNap's religious zeal and tendency to kill anyone who opposes his mentor. If Ollie is the Prototype, it seems a lot more like he's a tired old soldier who's been made the unwilling messiah of a cult driven by isolation and insanity.

To add on to this, it's notable that Prototype doesn't seem to be hostile to the other experiments. In fact, his territory would likely be the safest place in the factory for the very small toys - with CatNap grown, he has no need to hunt or eat them, and although he's quite capable of killing anything in the factory, he seems to have no interest in attacking other Bigger Body apex predators. MLL openly hates and fears him, but Prototype has let her be for ten years, only coming to claim her once she's killed. He's openly benevolent to Huggy and CatNap. The only place we ever know him to have aimed his violence is at the scientists tormenting him and the children.

So yeah. Maybe he actually doesn't approve of CatNap's harcore religious leanings. Maybe he's disappointed at how their relationship has shifted over the years, from friendship to surrogate family to reluctant god and fanatical high priest. Maybe he's guiding and helping the Player in the hopes of finally putting an end to their collective imprisonment and misery. And when CatNap snaps - let's be honest, he does make it clear that the Player is intruding and gives them multiple warnings and opportunities to Get Out Of His Home Or Else - and tries to kill the Player, Prototype can't let that happen. He's forced to make a horrifying choice - the kid he loves the bones of, the only friend he had at his lowest points, or the instrument of his ultimate goal.

And we know the Prototype. He's willing to do terrible things in the name of what he believes is right. He massacred innocents along with the guilty during the Hour of Joy. He tells CatNap it's okay, he's done well, he can rest now...

And he does what has to be done.

3) CatNap's death was requested by CatNap

Let's be honest. CatNap is not doing well after that confrontation. He's probably mortally wounded, and he's facing a slow and agonizing death from - if not the player - his burns or his weakness or his inability to defend his own territory. I would not be surprised if the silent conversation between him and the Prototype involved CatNap asking his idol, his god, to please make the pain stop. To end it, quickly and cleanly. I think that would be a reasonable ask from anyone covered head to toe in terrible burns. And in this scenario, knowing there is no doctor that can treat, heal or gently euthanise CatNap, it would honestly be crueller for the Prototype to refuse him.

Anyway yeah I just. Think there's a lot of missing context added by remembering that Prototype is a telepath, and there is probably a conversation going on with CatNap before he dies. So this is my take on three different ways the death scene could be read.

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime meta #poppy playtime headcanons #the prototype #experiment 1006 #catnap #smiling critters #theodore grambell

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wutheringskies · 1 year ago

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Post-Canon Fics in MDZS...

You know, what would make post-canon fics great? If they adhered to canon! This post is honestly just a list of character tropes, and plot tropes I find incessantly OOC, replaced by plot tropes I wish we hyped up more.

1. Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation

There are plenty of reasons this will never happen. Firstly, Jiang Wanyin will not apologize to Wei Wuxian further beyond the apology that he has made in Guanyin Temple, because to apologize, you need to see "wrong" in your actions and regret them. Jiang Cheng doesn't have a similar morality index as Wei Wuxian and their beliefs have always been different. Not to mention Jiang Cheng is inherently bitter since he was young; following down the path of his mother. His first instinct when someone is being praised is so squash them down.

Secondly, Wei Wuxian will not apologize to Jiang Cheng beyond the apology of breaking that promise that only Jiang Cheng was left holding onto - a culmination of their broken dreams and desires, a marking of them being a generation of war.

The only thing both of them have in common is their love for Jin Ling and a shared, painful past - a past that Wei Wuxian wants to move on from, a past that Jiang Cheng is simultaneously rooted in, and moved away from.

Note: that this, I am speaking for is MDZS canon. Not CQL, as well, Jiang Cheng didn't directly kill those Wens which is the tipping point.

Replaced by: Loving Jin Ling

In the MDZS Novel, we go from seeing Jiang Cheng become increasingly abusive and violent towards Jin Ling as the stakes worsen and Jin Ling becoming annoyed and having arguments with him, not agreeing with his thinking.

We also see, Wei Wuxian, being the one to push Jin Ling to talk to Jiang Cheng in the Iron Hook Extra. We see Wei Wuxian being disgustingly affectionate towards Jin Ling, and Jin Ling being a tsundere about it and promising to himself that from the next time, he'll stick around Wei Wuxian in night hunts, implying these two will be consistently in each other's lives.

We also learn that Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji take Sizhui out on night-hunts (a family). And that Sizhui and Jin Ling go on night-hunts together. Also, that Wen Ning often joins their night-hunts.

So, hear me out, post-canon fics revolving around this strange, muddly, messy support system and family that Jin Ling has amassed.

Yunmeng bros reconciliation is never going to happen; too much interaction might worsen their tentative mutual ignorance of each other. Wei Wuxian, who's always pushed himself into other's personal spaces, is fine with just ensuring Jiang Cheng is okay. Distance is better than proximity.

But what plausibly might happen is Jin Ling forming deeper connections with his scattered, support system. Jin Ling might open up to Jiang Cheng for help with this or that, as Wei Wuxian has advised. Jiang Cheng might learn how to not be emotionally abusive or harsh and show the love he has for Jin Ling in better ways. Jin Ling will probably end up getting closer to Wei Wuxian and Sizhui and understanding just so many things about, everything. He might be supported by Hanguang-jun.

He might grow up to be the best Jin sect leader there ever was.

2. Wei Wuxian navigating through a world where everyone hates him, withering away.

This is, not only one of the saddest post-canon takes, but also very OOC. It might not make sense what I'm talking about so I'll list out common tropes I put under this categorization:

a) Wei Wuxian has terrible self esteem

b) He feels undeserving of Lan Wangji's love and keeps him at a distance emotionally by seducing him for sex instead

c) He has a childlike innocence, he goes out and hears everyone talking shit about him and stays indoor most of the time

d) He is mistreated by Lan clan and Lan Wangji is oblivious to it all

And such. I definitely understand why these tropes are so popular. It feeds into a particular sort of misery but there is a lot that it ignores:

a) Wei Wuxian firstly doesn't have terrible self esteem. If he did, he wouldn't have made it this far (coughs, the big age of 21 or 22). People ignore the fact that Wei Wuxian is a strong protagonist. He is proud, and aware of his worth. He never plays down his talents. He understands quickly the perspective of other people, and already knows that the people who talk more, do less.

In his first life, he went through being coreless and powerless, hated by all, but still standing up for stuff he believed in and lounging and drinking. He's not afraid to make others uncomfortable with his presence. That is a part of his charm. He cares for the opinions of only few people - and those few love him.

b) The one where he's emotionally distant towards Lan Wangji is the one I possibly hate the most. Especially because these sorts of fics often have him distracting Lan Wangji from his bouts of worthlessness and insecurity by his body, and Lan Wangji jumps straight into action.

Lan Wangji knows Wei Wuxian well enough that he offers comfort to Wei Ying even when he doesn't realize he needs it; like hugging him in Intrustion extra when they are on the topic of servants. Wei Wuxian can read Lan Wangji well, and so can Lan Wangji. Both of them have a relationship built on mutual trust and understanding. Wei Wuxian isn't sticking around with the Lan Clan and the jingshi because it's what Lan Wangji wants, but it's also what Wei Wuxian wants.

Also, Wei Wuxian doesn't feel undeserving of Lan Wangji. He knows he has caused Lan Wangji a lot of pain, intentionally or not, and is dedicated to making him happy, and being in love. It was all in his Guanyin Temple confession - their relationship is not out of gratefulness or anything like that.

c) Wei Wuxian is innocent at his soul, but he's not a child. He knows what the world thinks and he doesn't care. He doesn't expect the world to talk nicely about him; he probably doesn't even hear half the chatter, and even if be acknowledges it, it doesn't need to emotionally hurt him. Unrelatable? Yes. But that's how his character is like.

And if he ever is hurt or surprised, he's going to seek comfort. Act childish, ask to be pampered, etc.

d) THIS one is so... We see Wei Wuxian stepping into the Lan Clan. One day later, he's sitting next to Lan Wangji in a banquet, accepted as his cultivation partner. Lan Qiren is definitely against his presence. But like, sincerely, how long will that go on when we know that Wei Wuxian is the one who takes Lan juniors to night hunts everyday? We also see Wei Wuxian acting independently with juniors onto missions where assistance from the Lan Clan was requested (Iron Hook extra) without any Lan Wangji or anyone else. He even has a jade pendant, just four days after settling in. Lan Qiren has to hear his moans like... every night. A few hours in and he's talking to a Lan female cultivator?

Lan Wangji himself has injured thirty three Lan elders and been punished by the worst punishment, probably, ever assigned. Beyond Lan Qiren's glares and admonishments, I sincerely doubt anyone can do or say much. What I don't doubt is that Wei Wuxian is loveable and makes friends easily, and that despite everything, he's Lan Wangji's cultivation partner. A teacher. Accesses all Lan cottages and buildings. And now an addition to the Lan family.

And as for what the general people speak, perhaps the Yiling Laozu will always be a figure that haunts children bed time stories. But Senior Wei, and Hanguang-jun's husband, and Wei Wuxian - is shown to be a figure that is loved, respected by many.

The whole of cultivation world TRIED to kill him (Second Seige). They were embarrassed. Only like 20 people were actually there to kill him.

These 20 people will probably never be able to touch a hair on his head.

The WHOLE of cultivation world was saved by Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji and the Wens' remains. Stories always travel fast, don't they? The cultivation world has found their newest figure to hate - and it's not Wei Wuxian. Not just that, even the one with the most hostility towards him (Jiang Cheng) didn't DISALLOW him from coming to Lotus Pier where in front of him, they transferred crimes previously "done" by him to Jin Guangyao (like the death of Jin Zixuan - let's not fool ourselves and think anyone other than Jin Ling cares about the truth). Not just that, the cultivation world asked "Master Wei" for help.

Wei Wuxian didn't come back to life only to live a terrible, hated, agonizing life. Most people don't care. He doesn't care. Those who care are not strong enough. Those he cares about love him.

Replaced by: Wei Wuxian navigating through life without heavy burdens on his shoulder

Much of the fics focus on the "burden" of the trauma he's been through his life in the fics. Very few focus on the lack of burdens. Like... the guy is now well fed. His feelings are returned. There's nobody in danger. He has a body that can grow a core again. He can slowly pick up Suibian. He can learn new tunes on Chenqing. He can hang out with Wen Ning. He can think back to fond memories. He can paint, read, travel, teach, have great ideas and tap 100% into his actual personality.

He can process stuff he's been through in a healthier way. Like, I don't know, that intrusion scene where LWJ immediately hugs him when the topic of servants come is so important to me, because, it makes me wonder what sorts of conversations they have had. He now gets pampered and indulged - and we all know he loves it, but often the portrayals of his thoughts about being loved is very self critical which isn't canon. And it would be really cool for Wei Wuxian to have just, time, on his hand.

He was barely free for a year and changed the ways of the cultivation society forever. Without much resources or money. Now, the possibilities are endless. He can not only travel, but buy expensive stuff and have a bunch of Lan texts and a very educated and smart husband to help him invent more.

3. CQL Shade but Post-Canon Fics where Wangxian is too busy with responsibilities for each other ???

Why are you guys hurting yourselves? Like, there's only a certain amount of these sorts of fic that's acceptable until it becomes a sort of widely accepted canon.

I think it definitely has to with Chief Cultivator Lan Wangji. My poor baby, his romantic heart, extremely concise replies, and disdain for worldly matters (HIS LITERAL NAME IS WANGJI. HIS SWORD IS BICHEN) was ignored in the favour of making him a cold, busy husband who's sorting minor clan disputes, surrounded by length drabbles and politics by those that once killed his husband.

This is just so awful for me. In the intrustion extra, even after dressing up early, with a guest waiting outside (Master Qin), he lets the guest WAIT than wake Wei Ying up (who sleeps until noon).

If he became chief cultivator the world would collapse. If Wei Ying held onto his robes a little too tightly, he wouldn't even step out of the Jingshi.

Like he told Wei Ying, "I've been damned since long ago." Lan Wangji is a pure romantic. He's never going to be too busy for Wei Wuxian, or too distant, or too cold.

Like, guys just no. Let's write post-canon Wangxian. Not Madam Yu-Jiang Fengmian inspired Wangxian.

#yunmeng nos #canon jiang cheng #wei wuxian #no jiang bros reconciliation #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #wei wuxian does not have a low self esteem #on the topic of post canon fics #jin ling #lan wangji #lan zhan #wei ying #post canon #wangxian #mdzs meta #meta #mdzs essay

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fushipurro · 6 months ago

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Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy

Chapter 4 - Black Star

<- Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter ->

☆ Content: 18+ MDNI, cowboy!au, gangs, gun violence, graphic depictions of death, blood, mentions of alcohol, creampie, breeding kink, mutual masturbation, biting

☆ Word Count: 6.9k (tehe)

A lot’s changed since you were last in Manzanita Post some years ago. What was once a one stop shop for hunting supplies has evolved into several storefronts, a couple homes, a dozen tents, and even a train station to increase foot traffic.

To reach Blackwater from Valentine, you inevitably had to pass through Tall Trees. You considered ignoring the fork in the road ─ one that takes you to either the post or the plains ─ to get to Kento sooner but ended up deciding on a quick trip down memory lane instead.

And a good decision that was; one you’ll realize in due time.

The general store in town happens to be where your father had met your mother. The business belonged to her family after all; at least… it did back then.

After some time spent perusing the store, running your fingers along the dusted shelves, you leave with your satchel full, stepping out into the midday sun. The redwood trees offer plenty of shade, but not enough to cover all of the sun’s golden warmth.

There’s an acrid smell in the air as soon as you step out, one with traces of metal mixed with harsh vapors ─ blood and smoke. The man responsible is more than aware of your presence.

His familiar green eyes already locked onto your form, all in that same midnight leather outfit. He smirks when you finally catch his gaze.

“We meet again I see, and so soon too,” he purrs, a laugh rumbling from deep in his chest. “You followin’ me, sweetheart?”

You huff, almost caught off by his amusement. Satoru claimed him to be a grouch, but all you see is a flirt. “Could say the same to you, Outlaw Killer.”

“Are you making a confession? I’d remember any wanted posters with your pretty face on ‘em,” he says with full confidence. You gotta give him credit for being bold, any woman would feel red in the face hearing that.

“Then you must not have seen today’s paper,” you tease, though really, it’s just an attempt at getting on equal footing. He’s got the looks, now you just need to see the personality.

“Do they even have it up to date this far in the woods?”

“Touché, but you came here for a reason, didn’t you?” you muse, quirking a brow as you shift your balance to one foot. “If not me, then what’s the reason?”

He takes a drag of his cigarette then turns his head upwards, exhaling into the light. “I go where there’s money, simple as that.”

A reasonable answer, one you can relate to in your own journey.

“Can’t imagine there’s much of that out here for you compared to Valentine,” you remark. If he wanted a job, that’s gonna be the place.

Tall Trees has never been the most hospitable of places to settle down in. Many try, but having run-ins with bears on your way to and from the outhouse each day doesn’t make for a quality stay. Unless you’re a hunter, and a brave one at that, this is not the place for you.

“Check again, cowgirl.” The man taps the back of his hand against a sheet of paper nailed to the shop’s log exterior ─ a wanted poster. “I think I’ll do just fine out here.”

Your curiosity grows, wondering what sort of outlaw is here of all places. Posters like these are few and far throughout the years in Manzanita Post, for the same reason as the lack of housing. Stepping closer, you now realize why there’s a need for such a thing here.

The outlaw wanted ─ dead or alive ─ is none other than the man who killed your parents.

You expect murder to be reason warranting this, but instead, it’s robbery. Just robbery.

The poster lists how he and his gang have been ambushing traders in the area, holding them at gunpoint for their supplies.

Why isn’t it murder though? You can’t honestly believe everyone’s unaware or has forgotten what this man did to your family. Since coming here, you’ve already seen some remnants of your mother’s side or family friends ─ one of which is taking care of your mares at the moment. But all it took was for one rich city-slicker to get robbed before the world started causing a fuss.

How aggravating.

“Someone you know?” he asks, all signs of romantic intent faded from his expression, replaced with his own budding curiosity.

“What makes you say that?” you snap, a certain hostility lacing your tone.

“Your face,” he says, gesturing with his cigarette. He appears unbothered by your slight outburst. “Could kill a man with those looks.”

If anyone’s getting killed today, it’s going to be that man. He deserves a fate worse than sitting behind bars in a city jail. A fate you can grant him.

You don’t reply to the bounty hunter though, merely turning on your heel in the direction of your horses. Leaves and twigs snap harshly with every step taken, fueled by an ignited rage.

The cowboy snuffs his cigarette beneath his steel toe boot, deciding to follow after you. He doesn’t have to ask where you’re going; the answer is obvious, and he wants in on the fun. You’ve barely make it out onto the road west of the post before he’s already at your side atop his steed.

“Mind if I join ya?” He grins, eagerness evident in his features.

You spare him a passing glance before looking back ahead.

“Do what you want.”

And so he does.

Toji, ends up proving to be refreshing company in a forest full of distant memories, aged like the trees themselves. Along the way, he recounts many tales of his previous hunts to you, all to help lighten the mood. Some are humorous, and others downright gloating, but you appreciate the distraction, nonetheless.

One such tale is about a guy who thought the best place he could lay low from the law would be some slippery rocks besides a stream of rapids. Needless to say, when coming face to face with someone as intimidating as Toji, the guy tried to flee, only to trip and fall into the current. It would’ve been funny had it not been a bounty where the reward would only come if they were still breathing upon return.

This went on for another dozen tales, all until arriving at the edge of Aurora Basin. And unlike the trading post, the lake hasn’t changed one bit.

On the far side along the shore, the cabin you called home still rests, nearly untouched save for nature’s reclaim. The afternoon sun makes it appear glowing in a thin sheet of gold; rays of light reflecting off the surface of calm waves and glass windows. In the distance, an elk can be heard and seen calling out for its herd. A bull and some cows, a few calves mixed in.

A family.

You wonder if the wolf dubbed Lobo still prowls these grand sequoias with his own pack. They no longer have the threat of humans mingling around their watering hole to worry. Not since the day you left these woods and into the frontier.

“Anything interesting?” Toji inquires, calling you back from your youthful reverie.

You take a moment to breathe in the familiar air that tickles your lungs with frostbite, shaking your head in response to the man. “Nah… just admiring the view is all.”

He hums, and although he’s unconvinced by your answer, he doesn’t push.

The remainder of the ride through the mountain pass is quiet, leaving you to ruminate your memories a little while longer.

You’ve spent enough time out here with all of Tall Trees as your backyard of play. You practically have a name for every tree and animal you’ve come across in your youth, all of which are now just a bitter reminder of what once was. You were born into this forest; it was your whole life. But for your father, it was an escape.

The gang he ran with originally was settled in the deserts down south, but he came here in search of a different life, separate from all the needless killings and petty thievery. He found that, and everything else he dreamt about having.

His biggest mistake however was thinking he could walk away from his past like nothing ever happened and believe there would be no repercussions.

Like many others in the growing world, the gang you’re hunting followed your father north for a fresh start as well. In doing so, they made their claim through the only way they know how.

Bloodshed.

“Hold up,” Toji suddenly says, drawing your focus. You turn to him as he’s already pulled a pair of binoculars from his bag, looking intently at something in the distance. “There’s a sniper up ahead in a lookout post.” He offers you his binoculars to confirm, and sure enough, you recognize the armed outlaw.

“Looks like we’re here,” you tell him, handing him back his gear.

Toji leans forward in the saddle over crossed arms, angling his head to look at you. “What is here, exactly?”

“Cochinay ─ the hideout of our target.” You move Valentine off the trail and into the undergrowth for cover. “We should go on foot from here on out,” you add, dismounting with your Springfield rifle in hand.

Toji hitches his black stallion ─ Blackjack ─ to a tree close by. “I get it’s none of my business and all but seeing as we’re fixin’ to bust through the doors of their camp, you might want to tell me a little more on what you know.”

Sadly, he’s got a point.

Your past isn’t something you often share, especially with someone you only recently met. Satoru was an exception ─ a brief glimpse at the overall picture of your youth. But this? This is where your old self died, marking the birth of the you from today. It would be wise to at least give Toji something to work with. And so, you sigh, and begin to tell him.

“I’ve got some history with this gang,” you start, moving stealthily through the shrubbery on your approach to the camp. “My father was a longtime member, he was born into their way of living.”

“Guessin’ that’s where you got the nerve to charge into an outlaw camp twice now including this?” His words referencing Suguru and his gang. You glance back over your shoulder, seeing the knowing smirk on his face. “What, don’t look surprised,” he laughs quietly, “I wouldn’t be a very good bounty hunter if I didn’t have eyes on everything goin’ on, now would I?”

Rolling your eyes, you press on, creeping closer to your destination. A wooden wall comes into view ─ high and spiked at the top. It wouldn’t surprise you to find some carcasses staked and on display as a warning to anyone who comes too close.

“Everything I am is because of my parents, not some degenerate group whose only motivation is liquor or gold,” you scoff. “Outlaws or not, I was raised to not back down.”

“So what happened to them?” His questions stops you dead in your tracks. Toji moves to your side to get a better look at you, your head hanging low, with eyes glued to some hummingbird sage at your feet. You reach out to said petals, the violet color meshing with the shadows and fading sunlight.

“That man on the poster.” You pause, drifting your gaze from the flower to Toji as a breeze kicks up, taking some of those very petals away and into the air. “He killed them.”

“I see,” he replies, offering no consoling words after. You’re glad, because what good would they do now? It’s neither the time nor place, and the memories you have are just that.

Memories.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Life will always go on and all you can do is ride it out like a rodeo bronc, hoping that in time, everything will calm.

“You here for revenge then? I’ll warn you now, that can get pretty messy if you’re not careful.”

“Something like that, but don’t worry about me.” You end the discussion before he can say more by moving up along the wall.

He snorts though, continuing to follow. “Didn’t say I would,” Toji mumbles under his breath. Really, he doesn’t think he has to, given your headstrong attitude. So long as your arrogance doesn’t get in the way ─ you should be just fine.

You end up finding a section of the wall where the wood is rotted, or chewed away, enough so that it can be removed with ease, making for a silent entry. It’s funny how common of a theme this is becoming. Do these gangs not pay attention to their security? Even on the inside, the grass is kept tall with a plethora of barrels and wagons that are perfect to hide behind.

The camp itself is divided on the inside into multiple sections. With steep mountains resting on either side, any efforts to scale around would be futile. The only way to the heart of said mountains is through two sets of gates, the first of which has a pair of guards on sentry duty.

The only way to reach your goal is to go in guns blazing.

“Cover me while I handle the guards?” Toji requests, as if reading your mind. You respond with slight nod of your head, readying your rifle. “Best not to stray far once we make ourselves known.”

“Don’t go running in front of my sights now,” you tease, and he laughs one final time before his expression turns serious.

Toji sneaks around in front of you, inching closer to the gate. Once far enough away, you let a sigh when you know he can’t hear. It’s easy to feel safe in a camp of outlaws when your partner is coined the outlaw killer, but you can’t forget that you’re up against the man that shattered your family. One mistake, and you’ll be joining them six feet under, assuming they were ever buried to begin with.

“Howdy gentlemen.” Toji stalks up to the men seemingly without a care, tipping his hat all the while. One hand remains hooked on his belt, close to the iron at his hips.

“Who the hell are you?” one of the guards questions, not waiting for his response as his finger meets the trigger of his rifle.

Too slow. The bullet from yours whistles past Toji and into the outlaw’s skull. Their body collapsing with a heavy thump.

“Intru–“

The other guard’s cry for help is silenced midway by a blow from Toji’s revolver. Either way, there was never a need to make the announcement, not when the sound of gunfire is echoing against the canyon walls.

From there, everything quickly turns to a blur fueled by adrenaline. With a revolver in one hand, and a sawed off in the other, Toji unleashes hell upon the camp while you snipe from afar.

The gate to the second area opens, cueing the arrival of a dozen more outlaws, completely underestimating what they’re up against. Their screams are nightmarish, as if met by Death himself, dressed head to toe in black leather stained in crimson tones.

Toji’s downright sinister smile never falters while reveling in the carnage crafted by his own making. It evokes a primal feeling from within watching one man inflict such destruction upon those who upended your life.

“Move up!” he shouts to you, stepping past bodies into the next section of camp. More outlaws await, fixing to meet their final breaths with an anguishing cry.

In your haste to keep up, you fail to notice one of the cowards slipping close to the wall as you enter. They grab your ankle unexpectantly, forcing you down and into the dirt. The outlaw kicks your rifle away, pinning your body down with their knee at the small of your back.

This position makes it near impossible to fight back, and your mind starts to race with thoughts and memories, flashing before your eyes. What a pathetic way this would be to meet your demise, and at the hands of some lowlife no less. For a split second, you wonder whether you should keep squirming or let the inevitable come sooner.

You wouldn’t have to fight anymore.

You may even see your family sooner, contrary to the brave front you always have up.

No sooner do you feel their grip loosening, on top of something wet hitting your back like rainfall. A long, serrated hunting knife falls dangerously close before your face. It’s blade and handle coated in fresh blood.

“Get up!” You hear Toji’s voice shouting at you.

Using the newfound freedom, you take the bloodied handle, curling your body around before snapping your arm to the side without any hesitation, slicing the outlaw’s throat. They cry painfully before meeting their end, choking on their own blood.

Toji rushes over, pulling you up by your arm. “Why didn’t you yell for me?” he says, his voice tinged with subtle anger, like a scolding parent. Another outlaw tries to take advantage of this reprieve but is quickly met with the barrel of Toji’s shotgun point blank between their eyes.

Another one down.

“It doesn’t matter,” you claim, picking your rifle back up. He doesn’t buy it, still giving you that disapproving stare.

“Stick close, I mean it,” he warns, waving his finger at you. His tone leaves no room to argue either.

You throw your rifle over your shoulder, swapping it out for dual revolvers prime for close combat. With your backs together, the two of you shoot all who dare to come close, sometimes maneuvering your arms around the other like a ballroom dance. Bullets fly all around, making you duck and twirl, spinning as one with elaborate footing.

“Cover me, will ya?” you call out over the gunfire into Toji’s ears. He responds by picking up his pace, refusing to let any threats near while you turn to an ole reliable from out of your satchel. Dynamite.

It’s not often you get the chance to use some explosives, especially without any drawbacks. You more than happily light it up before tossing it towards the innermost gate.

The blast ruptures, collapsing the gate and one of the guard towers as well. Pieces of the fence go flying in all directions, one even impaling another outlaw in the chest before your bullet could fire.

It takes a minute before the smoke clears, finally allowing you to see into the heart of the camp ─ seeing him as you do.

The bounty’s face is twisted with displeasure, knowing full well the dire state he’s in. It’s only a matter of time before his life and all his claims are forfeit to the one he took it all away from.

You pull up your rifle once again, aiming down the sights at his sorry face. Realization dawns on him the moment he meets your eyes through the scope, and right as you fire, he bolts down into a cave.

“Shit,” you hiss, abandoning Toji’s side to take pursuit. He shouts for you again, but his voice is clouded by the bloodlust you feel with your prey before you.

This isn’t your first time up in Cochinay, so you know full well the many tunnels feeding through the mountains. While they most likely provide shelter for the gang, they also offer a means of escape if need be.

You can’t let him get away.

With that said, you know exactly which paths to take to catch up. The bastard never even bothered to learn the best route to escape you soon realize. He was far too confident that nothing could take him down.

Big mistake.

It’s ironic how he took your father from you before your very own eyes, and then your mother’s soon after. Yet now, in the face of the one who got away, all he can feel is fear.

If your father is watching past the clouds in the skies, he’d be proud to know how far you’ve come and how close you are to avenging him. He raised you to outshine him in every way, and with this ─ you’ll finally have closure.

You fire a warning shot past the outlaw’s head and into the rocky formation.

“Turn around,” you demand, your voice cold as the ice clinging to these very mountaintops.

He does so, his voice quivering as he yells, “You can’t kill me!”

You kiss your teeth. “The hell I can.”

“You ran when I gutted your parents; I’m not afraid of you!” A lie, evident in his demeanor that’s starting to crack under the pressure.

“And yet you’re doing the same,” you scoff, further adding a manic laugh ─ Sukuna’s influence, taking hold. “The difference between you and me is that I never ran because I was scared.”

“Liar,” he spits, but you ignore him to continue.

“I ran to live another day. To roam this beautiful earth doing damn well what I please because I’m free!” You pause, taking aim with your gun. “You won’t be taking anything else from me.”

“Watch me.”

He moves to draw his gun from his hip, but you’re faster. You’ve always been faster.

Click.

Widened eyes and a look of shock replaces your features. You’re out of ammo.

That moment of weakness is enough for the outlaw to fire his own round, and it hits ─ igniting your arm with fiery pain.

“Got you now, bitch!” He charges at you and grapples your waist, sending you down into the cold stone, hard. The force knocks the wind right out of you, but you can’t lose yourself now. You got lucky with his mistake, but the next will cost your life if you don’t start fighting back.

You’ve angered him with your words, and now he wants you to suffer.

He has you on the defensive against his blows, pounding at you with his fists. “I’m not afraid of you!” he shouts between his onslaught, one landing right over your injured arm, raised as a shield. “I’ve been running this gang since before you were born. I can always rebuild and conquer again!”

He poses his fist high in the air to strengthen the next blow, and in your weakening state, you’re not sure you’d be able to handle it.

“Give your father my regards,” he says with finality, only for that very hand to rupture at the sound of thunder rocking the mountain in turn. You lift your head up to see Toji ─ a rolling block rifle in his hands, giving you the opening needed to finish this once and for all.

You reach for the gun still bound to the outlaw’s holster, turning it on him. “Won’t have to… because you’ll be seeing him first,” you chuckle, pulling the trigger.

As it turns out, this revolver belonged to your father. A fitting way to take revenge.

The tunnel is painted red with your words, sealing the outlaw’s fate. His limp body falls forward overtop your own, the light gone from his eyes. Toji rushes over, easily lifting the dead weight from you.

“What did I say about sticking close?” he scolds, offering you a hand to lift you up. “Could’ve gotten yourself killed; you know that? Unbelievable.”

“You sound like my dad,” you tell him while laughing before he flicks you on the forehead.

Looking down at his future paycheck, he sighs, but then cracks a smile that shows nothing but joy.

“You did it, cowgirl. How’re ya feelin’?”

“Relieved,” you say; relief from knowing the cause for your traumatic past is lying in a pool of his own blood at your feet. “Although I did get shot,” you add. The way you say that makes it sound like it’s a daily occurrence.

He flicks you again for that.

“Come on,” he drawls with a hefty sigh. “Let’s go raid their shit so we can patch you up.”

The moon is high in the sky as you sit along the edge of a wagon, an oil lantern providing enough light for Toji to work. Thanks to the bastard’s shaky hands, the bullet missed its mark, narrowly grazing your arm instead of anything important. You’ll live, but you need a few stitches to close the wound.

“Gonna tell me now what you was going on in your head?”

“I don’t know what you mea– ow, watch it!” You wince when he tugs the thread a little too hard.

He mumbles a haphazard apology. “Don’t play dumb with me ‘cause I know you’re not. Twice today you could’ve gotten yourself killed.” He sounds annoyed telling you all this, but it’s coming a place of worry, whether you believe it or not.

“I’m not used to relying on others,” you admit after a minute of silence, taking a shot of some liquor to dull the pain in your arm and soul. As expected, this camp is riddled with various bottles and supplies ─ all free for the taking now.

“You don’t say,” he teases, and you shoot him a glare that he laughs off.

The next several minutes are spent in silence, admiring his handiwork. The needle and thread appear comically small in his hands, yet he offers a delicate touch. It’s safe to say this isn’t the first time he’s had to stitch up a wound, and you appreciate not having to do it yourself.

“For what it’s worth, I’ve learned not to rely on anyone either,” he tells you, his eyes flickering up to meet yours. The flame of the lantern burns bright in his eyes, reflecting amber tones mixed in a forest of green.

“I’m starting to get the feeling you have your own troubled past,” you muse, hissing at the final few tugs of the stitching.

“You don’t say,” he says again, that flirtatious tone from earlier returning. The gruffness of his voice ─ so close to your body ─ has your eyes fluttering back. His body being the only source of heat amidst the chilling air of the nighttime hours makes you wish to be closer, to embrace that heat.

He wraps a bandage nice and snug around your arm, dropping his hands to either side of your body, effectively caging you. You could shuffle away as there’s nothing but empty space behind you, but why leave the fire for the cold, when you instead could stoke the flames?

“Was there something else you wanted to say?” you ask in sultry tune, turning your head slightly to the side.

Toji moves closer, his eyes never leaving yours for even a second. His nose brushes against your neck, shamelessly taking in your scent. One hand moves up your arm, lingering on the side of your head, supporting its weight for better access.

“No,” he whispers against your ear, relishing in sound that involuntarily leaves your lips. So sensitive, he thinks to himself, and oh how he’s going to enjoy that soon. “There’s somethin’ I’d like to do though.”

Your hand comes up to meet his chest, bundling the fabric and urging him down to you. “Yeah?” you whisper back into his ear, smiling against his skin. “And what would that be?”

He chuckles, pulling back to see the look on your face when he tells you. You can see the desire building in his eyes, the lids half-narrowed, ready to swallow you whole into oblivion.

“You.”

You take your hand away from his chest, moving slowly down until reaching his belt, grinning all the while. “Well, aren’t you bold? I can’t say I’m not thinking the same way.”

Toji holds your wrist securely in his hand, pulling it further down his body. He pleasingly groans when you comply by palming him over his dark denim jeans. He lets go of your wrist in exchange for your head, clumping your hair together and fervently directing your lips to his.

It’s a heated exchange, but not the ravenous sort with tongue and teeth mangling together. In return, he bruises your lips with power hungry kisses ─ frenzied with passion and longing. His other hand lowers itself near the apex of your thigh, the tightness of his grip changing with the pressure of your hand against his core.

He's huge, that much is certain. What a lucky girl you are to keep finding such delectable men in only a few days time.

Finally, he lets go of your mouth, allowing you the chance to breathe in shared air. “Take it out.” His voice is deepened and straining, with a sense of underlying urgency.

While you’re messing with his belt, he looks down on with a sinful stare, treasuring the near desperation in how fast you’re trying to get to him. Your reaction to its size is priceless, a sight that never disappoints, and he’s not even fully hard yet.

“My turn,” is all he says before his hands are on you. You hope the sound of fabric ripping is all in your hand, or maybe a twig snapping in the distance (it’s not).

The two of you then share a moment of reverence for the other, tracing each other’s body and sex as if committing to memory a divine work of art.

“So pretty,” he praises, trailing a finger between your folds. “And so wet for me, too,” he sighs breathily, eyes fluttering shut when you let out another angelic sound.

You place your hand back around his cock, feeling his hip stutter in response, rutting once into your hand. Using his free hand to balance himself, Toji descends again upon your lips kissing more sloppily with the growing ecstasy. He throws his head back when you tease the spot just under the tip before throwing himself back onto you ─ swallowing up every whimper and moan when his finger finally pushes its way through.

His finger ─ thick and calloused ─ curls inwards over that sweet spongy spot, forcing your back into an arch, demanding you to ride his knuckles for more.

“Toji,” you mewl with an air of arousal peaking; a plead, for him.

He adds another finger making you gasp in response, and he uses this opportunity to dip his tongue far into your mouth. The flavor is intoxicating, an unhealthy mix of aged rum meeting his preferred brand of cigarettes ─ the ones with the series of cards to collect.

Gambling was always one of his favorite hobbies, and he’s glad to have gone all-in on you. For once, it worked in his favor, and now you’re coming undone by the very hands dealing the cards to win.

Your hands start to shake when he adds a third finger, stretching you out from the inside while rolling a thumb along your clit. Your grip around him quivers, drawing out a resounding groan. Despite how big and intimidating he is, it all ends the same when they’re wrapped around your finger. Needy, and with such pretty noises that are music to your ears.

The kiss breaks, but only enough to breathe while your tongues remain tied together for a few seconds longer. He presses his forehead to yours, pupils blown, staring right into yours. Beads of sweat fall along your cheeks, cooling your heated skin. The alcohol in your system works not only to numb any pain but also to help enrapture your body, flushing your cheeks a cardinal tone.

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” he asks, curling his fingers again making your whole body twitch. His cock does the same, leaking heavily with beads of cum. You can feel his veins practically beating at the same pace of your heart.

“Fuck ─ I could ask you the same thing.”

“Go on then,” he chuckles, trying to hide how shaken up he is. You hardly need to do much of anything with your hand as he starts jerking himself on you without shame. His lips return to your ear, biting at the lobe when he whispers, “Cum for me.”

Your jaw falls slack with the euphoric feeling. Your body spasming around his fingers, clenching with no remorse for his trapped fingers. With that, Toji can’t hold himself back from letting lose onto your hand, spilling out a heavy load of white.

The stars overhead are but a blur to you now in your high, a mere backdrop to the heaven on earth feeling coursing through each of your veins.

He pulls back from your body, grinning when he hears you whining at the loss. The real show has yet to even begin, this foreplay merely the opening act for a night to remember.

You watch as he takes those same three fingers, wet with slick, and runs them each into his mouth. His eyes closing with a heavy sigh as he indulges in your taste.

“Mhmm, so sweet.” He drinks up your reddened look, another spark of arousal hitting you at the sight of his joy.

You can’t help but do the same when you notice the mess in your hand ─ raising it up so you too can partake in this flavorful exchange.

That grin on his face grows even wider than before. “Beautiful,” he praises breathlessly. “Now come here.” He beckons you by curling those same fingers that were inches inside you mere moments ago.

Effortlessly, Toji lifts you up and off the wagon, leaving behind the only source of light as he walks you to some bedrolls he laid out earlier in anticipation of spending the night.

He kisses you gently this time ─ the calm before the storm about to come. While doing so, he removes the remainder of your clothes thus freeing your chest to his eyes. You do the same for him, one button at a time until all that’s left is the statue of a god, adorned with many scars that map history across flesh.

Another moment of reverence, from one godlike figure to another.

“Turn around. On your knees.” He watches you wordlessly obey, shifting himself behind you. With two hands on either side of your hips, he raises you up into his full view. The sight of your cunt glistening with fluid is captivating, inducing a sense of frenzy.

He kisses you there first, then draws a stripe with his tongue before burying it between the velvet lining. A prelude for what’s to come, once he’s quenched his thirst. You can almost cum again just from that, but he stops just in time to keep you riled up.

“Just fuck me already, Toji,” you say, a mix of warning and urgency on your tongue.

His palm meets the globe of your ass, not enough to hurt, but enough to be known and shock your body. “And how do you ask?”

“Please?” you reply, matching his mocking tone.

“Good girl.”

Next thing you know, his tip is hot against you, rubbing loosely between your folds. You jolt when it grazes your clit, groaning with anticipation. But before you can utter another word ─ another plead ─ he bullies his way inside, stretching you more than his fingers possibly could.

A burning pain hits you from the sudden intrusion. “Fuck!”

“There, there,” he coos, one thumb over your clit. “You wanted me, so take it.”

He watches with marvel at how his cock disappears into your cunt, his whole body shuddering in reaction.

“’S too much, Toji.” Hell, he and Sukuna are in their own tier when it comes to size.

“Shh, you’re almost there, sweetheart.” He grunts feeling you tighten around him, so eager to please and be praised. “I could get used to this.”

A few moments are all you get to steady yourself before he’s moving. His hands gliding along every curve, mark, and dimple gracing your back, tracing up your spine and back around to your hips. As his pace increases, so do his sounds. Each thrust is accompanied with deep, heavy sighs and salacious groans.

“You like this, huh?” His words barely register in your ears, too drunk off the way his cock hits your cervix with each thrust. He leans down, hunching over your back while at the same time snaking an arm around to your front. “What h-hahppened to your words, sweets?” A whimper catches in his throat. “Where’s that pretty voice callin’ my name?”

“Toji!” You cry out feeling his sharp, wolfish fangs burying themselves in your neck. One hand holding you at your stomach right over where his tip reaches, and the other loosely around your throat in a show of a dominance.

“What was that?” He sneers against your ear, his breathing growing more erratic by the second. “Gotta speak up and tell me what you want.”

“I want you,” you moan, drool spilling out the sides of your mouth.

“Who?”

“Y-you ─ Toji.” Another moan, higher pitched than before.

“Again,” he growls.

“Toji, Toji, ‘Oji-ahh!”

You keel over in his hold, violently shaking as an orgasm tears through your body like lightning. Wetness gushes out from you, rolling down your thighs and onto his lap.

“So fucking good ─ shit.” His arms tighten and he leans his weight further into you, pushing your body into the bedroll with only one thought in his mind. “You gonna let me fuck a baby into you?” He moves the hand on your stomach down to your clit, inciting the bundle of nerves with rough circular motions that serve to overstimulate you. “You’d like that?”

“Yes, yes! Please!” you whine as he forces you straight into another orgasm. With how sensitive you are, all coherent thoughts are erased except for Toji, Toji, Toji. In this pursuit of pleasure, he’s all that matters.

“Good fucking girl,” he growls, his voice straining, “Now take it!”

With one final cry of his name, warmth floods your body. Your nails dig into the sheets, uncontrollably squirming in a puddle of drool, cum, and slick. For a moment, you think you may have even passed out, because next thing you know, you’re on your side still wrapped in Toji’s embrace. His cock still several inches deep, with no apparent hurry to pull out.

The two of you lay like this for some time, coming down from the high mountaintops of euphoria. Black and white spots in your vision slowly morphing back into stars and the picturesque view of the Milky Way galaxy watching over you both. No words need to be shared. This is all you desire.

You never thought that one out of blue trip to a town like Valentine could jumpstart a whole new chapter in your life, subsequently closing the pages of old, tossing it to the flames. You never outright planned on taking revenge on the man who tore apart your family, but knowing you were there to see him crumble in his final moments brings a sense of tranquility you haven’t felt for some time.

Wherever you go from here, you know that it’ll work out. The future is in your hands ─ a frontier of its own, now ready to be explored without regret.

You wake the next morning to Toji brewing a pitcher of coffee over the campfire. He hears you stirring from sleep, turning his gaze to yours with a content smile. There’s no arrogance or lustful feature ─ only a type of calm you see best at dawn.

“Mornin’, sunshine.”

“Morning,” you respond with a yawn, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Your voice is both thick with sleep and hoarse from screaming one man’s name a dozen times over.

He chuckles amusingly, pouring you a fresh hot cup. “Sleep well?”

Well, besides the whole-body ache… “Like a baby,” you tease. It’s a miracle your stitches didn’t open up once.

You take your time to enjoy the coffee and the morning view. Dawn always looked best up in these mountains with the cascading trees and fields of sage. If you close your eyes, you can hear all the familiar calls of birds and other wildlife mingling ─ the forest teeming with life at every inch.

“When we get his body back to town, that reward money’s all yours,” he says, while standing to stretch his limbs.

You shake your head. “Don’t bother, I got my revenge. That’s all I really wanted.”

Toji can’t be too upset at your words, it’s more money for him. He was already going to happily sell whatever he could find in all these dead outlaws’ pockets for his efforts, anyways.

“Ain’t that a shame.” He places a hand on his hip, green eyes cast down at your form.

“You know, we make a good team,” he starts up again after a brief minute of silence. “You ever thought about becoming a full-time bounty hunter?”

He flashes that devious smile of his once more, his sharp canines poking through when he curls that scarred lip upwards.

“Not a bad offer,” you hum, “Especially after last night.”

It’s honestly a thought you’ve had from time to time. There are always outlaws to hunt and money to make; you’ve done it before and if yesterday proved anything, it’s that you can handle yourself even when pitted against an entire gang.

As it stands, there are several options open to you now, with many possibilities for how life will unfold from here on out.

“So what do you say, cowgirl?”

☆ Notes: I’d like to thank past me for coming up with the dad lore in earlier chapters on the spot, because I honestly didn’t expect to make it a whole theme for this chapter until I started writing it. Gonna be sad though seeing this series end soon, but I’ve got a dozen more stories I plan on writing, and I’m always open for more cowboy content in the future :)

Also, just to throw in my own little headcanon with the forehead flicking and all… you always see Megumi smacking Yuji or whoever when he’s scolding, and I like to imagine he got that from Toji or maybe even Mamaguro since Toji’s strong enough to take it (not in the domestic violence sense, but you know what I mean?)

#jjk #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen #toji zenin #jjk au #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x female reader #toji x you #toji smut #jujutsu kaisen toji #cowboy!au #toji x y/n

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asgardian--angels · 9 months ago

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Talking on the phone with my mom I finally broke down and cried thoroughly about the cancellation. I think I'd been holding it in for the last two days, or two months. And honestly I've been wondering all along why this show means so much to me. I am not queer, I am not neurodivergent, I am not POC or disabled or any of the groups that this show has been so important for in terms of representation and being treated with respect and dignity. I understand and completely empathize with all of you, and fight for this show and your rights worldwide alongside you, but it still left me wondering why I myself have latched onto Our Flag Means Death. I suppose part of it is that despite being white and cishet and the privileges that have always come with that, I have been treated like an outsider and ostracized my entire childhood and teenage years, for being ugly and having "disgusting" interests (primarily liking insects, reptiles, other creepy-crawlies - aka the thing I literally do for my career now). I was bullied relentlessly from preschool through early college and became a very lonely introverted person - I still am. Undoubtedly Our Flag Means Death gave me renewed hope that I haven't missed some key window for finding love or relationships of any kind that matter, as I sit here typing this at age 28 having never dated anyone.

But it had to be more than that. And with everything that's happened the past couple of months, and the last few days, I think it finally clicked for me.

Followers of my blog may or may not know that I am a conservation biologist, or pollinator ecologist, whichever hat fits best on a given day, they're quite close. I don't make many original posts like this anymore on here because my job is so busy. Basically, I do a variety of things - academic research, habitat management & restoration, and public outreach - to try and preserve biodiversity and ecosystems on our planet. I'm just going to say it: it's a thankless job. Nothing we do ever feels like it's enough, and burnout is common in our field because we sit with the guilt of feeling like we are the only thing between survival and utter destruction of planet Earth, and work ourselves to exhaustion. It's one of those jobs where your work is your life, and your passion is your work, and it's inseparable from who you are on a molecular level. We are often faced, on a large scale, with hostility, from people that don't believe in science and are more than happy to pull a shotgun on us, or rich old men in power who are content to watch the world burn for another penny in their bank account. There are days when sometimes it sinks in just how bad things are, and it's terrifying, and I feel like we will never be able to do enough, to change enough, before it gets catastrophic. It's paralyzing.

My ability to do my job is dependent on hope. Unwavering, unrelenting hope. Hope beyond hope. We have to believe what we're doing matters, otherwise we'd fall down and never get back up again. I'm no big-shot, I give talks to a few hundred people at a time, and make urban pollinator habitat on a local scale. Is any of that going to make a difference compared to the ramifications of a single oil mogul deciding to cut corners and cause an oil spill that kills millions of seabirds and damages ocean food chains for decades to come? If people in my field let thoughts like that linger, we'd be paralyzed to inaction. I have to hope that the people I teach choose to do something good with that knowledge, and go on to inspire others, or that the patch of habitat I make allows a declining species to maintain a foothold instead of going locally extinct. You just have to keep going.

And Our Flag Means Death got wrapped up in that for me. The Stede Bonnet effect, if you will. He set out to do pirating differently, treating his crew with respect and helping them grow. In return, they internalized that mindset, and it spread to how they interacted with others. It changed the trajectory of individual lives, and also at least began to change how the society of pirates operated as a whole. It was a beacon of hope that choosing small acts of kindness did matter, even if you yourself could not see the ripples it made. It renewed my faith that love persevered and would win. That we could all make life a little better for each other and ourselves through kindness, compassion, forgiveness, and mutual support. I think a good chunk of that is from Taika - these are running themes in his projects, and his films move me deeply for that. This show became in some, perhaps subconscious way, a source of strength for me to keep putting myself out there in my line of work to do whatever I was capable of to help the cause.

The cancellation was devastating, but the second cancellation (turbohell cancelation?) was even more so. Because now it's so clear that this is largely the work of David Zaslav and the regime he's built. It's petty, it's greedy, and more than anything, it's cruel. Indifferently, indiscriminately cruel, when one person at the top can have such power to make or break the lives of thousands, millions, beneath them, and though it would have been barely a drop in the bucket, a hand wave, to renew our show or let it pass to another streamer, he actively chose to shackle it to this sinking Titanic of a company WBD has become. I have always operated on the belief that you can do anything if you work hard enough at it, and believed deep down that there was some order, some justice in the universe, atheist though I be. We as a fandom did everything we possibly could, we loved this show harder than anything. The numbers were there, the awards nominations were there, the critic praise was there, and we were loud and loyal every single day. I felt like we could do this - how could we not win when we've done so much, and the show deserves it so much? Surely cause and effect will prevail.

This fight seemed small, though really it wasn't; we fought for the right of artists and creators to make quality, original stories and have them told to their natural end, we fought for diversity representation to be more than a token character - OFMD raised the bar so much higher on all fronts, we fought to shed light on the chaos and impending collapse of this industry silencing art and exploiting writers, actors, and all manner of production workers. It was a small fight from the outside, one that I really felt we could win. And I put my heart and soul into it, because if we could win this, if we could save this simple, kind love story about two guys on a boat, then maybe there was hope for the bigger, badder stuff too. It shouldn't seem an insurmountable task for several thousand fans to convince a streaming service that they'd turn a tidy profit to give our show one more season.

Yet we lost - through no fault of our own. I am so proud of us. But that really struck deep for me. If one peabrained CEO of a media company wouldn't budge on greenlighting a show that was in his every best interest business-wise - perhaps enough to even save Max from going under in the not-too-distant future - my god, what hope was there for changing anything bigger? The 'real' problems of the world? When no amount of ethos, logos, or pathos can penetrate these men at the top, where's that hope to fight? Lately the world seems like it's just going belly up all over. If we gave everything we could, and it still wasn't enough - if it could never be enough - what hope is there? It's like chaining yourself to a tree and the bulldozer plowing right on ahead. And I think that broke something in me. It shook me to my foundations because it broke my rules of how things are supposed to work. We believed hard enough, we worked tirelessly, and we deserved it for how important this show was to so many people. And it didn't matter. Our best wasn't enough. And that caused an avalanche of all of the horrible, scary things piled on my shoulders - we're losing the Amazon rainforest too fast to save, climate change is going to turn the corn belt into a dustbowl by mid-century, a border wall is going to devastate imperiled wildlife in Texas, deforestation and hurricanes on songbird wintering grounds could lead to entire species extinctions, saltmarshes are our lifeline and they're shrinking and we're still building stupid concrete stormwalls, invasive diseases will completely alter the composition of our forests to be unrecognizable to our children, and if you don't make every slide of this powerpoint utterly perfect and you fail to convince every single person in attendance to get rid of their lawn then you've failed and the world is doomed.

I've struggled with being a perfectionist my whole life. This didn't help.

That's where I was a couple hours ago. But I took some deep breaths. I know the world isn't fair. But I really thought if we could win this one battle, then we could win the war.

But here's what I realized. Everything we did mattered. It mattered so much. Because there's the show, and then there's everything that was birthed out of that show. The community, so many of us around the world who have been uplifted by Our Flag Means Death in a real and lasting way that we will take with us and spread to affect those around us. The Stede Bonnet effect goes global. We raised thousands and thousands of dollars for charities around the world, real people whose lives have been improved, or maybe even saved, because of us and this silly pirate show. We brought a hell of a lot of attention to WBD and their shitty practices, keeping the momentum going in a way that I think is only going to build - and I sure hope it leads to Zaslav getting deposed. We have demanded more queer stories, more BIPOC stories, more disabled and autistic and middle-aged stories, stories with exquisite costumes and award-worthy wigs, dear lord, and we are being heard. We have expressed such love and support for the cast and crew, showing them that we appreciate their hard work and that we will be behind them in their future projects. So many of them have told us how the show and its fans have changed their lives. We convinced Rhys that his career isn't winding down but winding up, and to be unapologetic about his wonderful weirdness - we've proven to everyone through this show that your weirdness is what someone out there is going to love you for, not in spite of. We rallied to help writers and actors during the strikes in a way that was taken to heart and remembered. We have been out here talking it through as a crew, and turning poison into positivity, for over two years now, and that impact is permanent. They can cancel our show, they can try and slap copyright notices on our fan merch, and spew bullshit excuses about the numbers not being there. But Our Flag Means Death sparked a movement, the biggest pirate crew the world has ever seen, using our power for good.

We may not have any more new material for our show for a while, or ever. But I maintain hope that when the dust has settled and streaming has entered its 'new era' that they'll remember us and throw us a lifeline. Because hope is a part of my genetic makeup, and even in cancellation my hope has been renewed that the fight is worth fighting, that our individual choices of kindness are having an effect, and making the world a little easier to live in bit by bit. No one can take from us what we have built out of this show. And thanks to pirating, they can't take the actual show from us either. Despite this, no matter the outcome, I am so happy we got two seasons of this wonderful series. That was more than almost anyone expected. The story belongs to all of us, and it will always live on. We did not truly lose this battle, because in the process we gained more than we could have ever imagined. And I know there's still so much more to come. That gives me the strength to keep doing what I do, every day.

To me, Our Flag Means Hope.

#our flag means death #ofmd #this is a very long post but I need to write it for me #seeing the outpouring of love on twitter today has really been so needed #also realizing after i finish this that my blog name is literally 'There is always hope'#so i mean. this really has been my brand since i started here #personal

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