#ive perfected trotting

[limnologylover]

i should skitter round the abode like a little doggie :3c

[vyzz-undercover]

the voices have made this happen

[cato/f!ambassador]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

(5,900ish words) (OUUGHHHHH)

CONTENT WARNINGS:

•slight dubcon

•hints of size kink [obligatory]

•vaginal fingering

•oral [f receiving]

•mild possessive behaviour

•the consequences of ignoring important medical devices

•mentions of (hypothetical) torture

•tumblrs recurringly cancerous formatting

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im back on my bullshit after having to do overnights so as payment to the dark gods of whoring and degeneracy i humbly offer this taglist of sweet darling who've indulged my insanity: @the-raven-lady, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @bispecsual, @lemon-russ, @kit-williams, @passionofthesith, @egrets-not-regrets, @moodymisty, @sinistermojo, @justeverythingnothingelse, @pluvio-tea, @thevoidscreams, @beckyninja, @yestheantichrist!!! if you wanna be tagged (or not) in the next let me know!!! also it may take me longer to do a part four to this namely because ive got more wageslaving ahead of me soon but alas i'll definitely have rowboat girlyman catch em. also maybe give cato some top. myehehehehe,,, AND THANK YOU FOR READING AS USUAL ILY ALL!!! :3

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Cato is just about leaving.

After having spent the better part of an hour discussing the predicted destruction pathway of a hive-fleet on the system's rim with his Father; it sends his balls into his throat when you nearly run into him in the chamber's huge archway.

It only takes a fraction of a second to catalogue your presence.

You're wearing the same utilitarian blue robe as you had been last week again.

Last week, when he'd been pounding you insensible on a lounge in the library—Cato promptly quashes the insidious memory, smothering down any sort of reaction. But there is a change in comparison to the dizzying reminder: there's a new addition to the reoccurring outfit.

You've brought a navy, high-collared turtleneck into the mix, layered below your lapels.

So, the efforts of his mouth hadn't gone unheeded, then.

Throne, if he's not smug, he's got no bloody clue what he is.

Cato steps aside and turns to allow you entrance first before his exit.

"Commander Sicarius," you lilt with a soft voice and a small downward tip of your chin, all while holding his gaze.

He's transfixed periodically at the honeyed sort of warmth in your eyes.

Despite himself, he lingers and greets you with a slow, "Lady Ambassador."

The left side of his mouth twitches upward in a half-aborted smirk that he quickly tries to mask as a stern, frown-nod combination.

You break the staring match and Cato's confident he's salvaged his slip-up without detection.

Or not—because oh, fuck—if he doesn't feel the burning focus of a Primarch's eyes boring a hole into the side of his head like a brand.

It only lasts an instant, but the second is an eternity to him.

Of course, you're oblivious to this subtle exchange—and promptly trot past him to his Father's vast desk.

"My Lord Primarch," you say with a curt little bow; and then Guilliman's attention is solely on you, his favourite little pet project. "I read the data-drives you instructed from the preceding article logging. I've arranged them back to the most recent mark counts."

You're looking for an empty spot to lay them on his table, but with all the meticulously arranged stacks, it's none too easy to find one.

"Perfect," the Primarch breaths, "Just on the side there is fine, don't worry."

Obligingly, you lay them atop a small mountain of paperwork.

"Do you need anything else of me, my Lord?" You chirp brightly, the tone of your voice so very painfully sweet—Cato is nearly overwhelmed fighting a pitched battle against the urge to run over, pick you up and shake you around suddenly.

Guilliman chuckles, waving one massive hand about vaguely, "You've done more than enough for me today, why don't we leave it at that for now, hm? Go on."

"Of course; thank you, and have a good evening, my Lord," You say, bow once more, and turn on your heel from the Primarch, and—and smile at Cato as you walk back towards the exit. That's—that's the first time you've smiled at him. His twin hearts lurch, slamming forward against the inside of his fused chest cavity. It's perfect abominable. You rotten temptress, he's—he's going to rectify that audacity later. Or now, if you're... possibly heading the same direction he is. Which is whatever direction you're going, purely by chance.

It's merely coincidence, he swears.

He's certainly not planning on hounding after you like a dog tailing a bitch in heat.

He's certainly not going to drag you into a side room the second he's sure no-one with a credible opinion's around.

He's certainly not going to indulge in anything heretical, like bending you bare over his knee for daring to taunt him.

Cato makes as if to fall in step behind you as you pass the threshold before him, but is quickly halted by his Father's curt, "I do not believe you have been dismissed, Cato."

He's never been subjected to such sinking dread quite so nonchalantly.

"Approach."

Cato complies stuffily, sparing a glance at your figure disappearing down the corridor before acquiescing. He's practically dragging his ceramite boots across the intricate rugs as he nears the Primarch's seated but colossal form.

Guilliman isn't looking at him, having had returned to notating a miscellaneous form.

The scritch-scratch of his gene-sire's preferred, yet archaic method of manually writing on the parchment is like someone grating a plate with a fork to his ears right now.

"You've gotten over your petty grievances regarding the Ambassador at last, I take it?" Guilliman asks, without looking up.

It is not Cato's duty to like or dislike. Nor is it to be biased without reason—his opinions are to be intellectual, not emotional. His duty is to assess, analyse and provide feedback, so that his Primarch can take it into account when making rulings and decisions.

Cato swallows around the proverbial hunk of drywall lodged in his throat and answers, "She has proven herself... useful, yes, sire."

Guilliman finally meets his eyes but says nothing for a short while. There's dark bags under his Primarch's eyes, and the deep, stern crease permanently between his dark blonde brows is a slight bit harsher, but the only thing Cato can parse out of the expression's intent is a vague sense of knowing. Because, insofar, he's thought himself quite adept at reading his Primarch; and rather well versed in deciphering the intricacies of his moods.

And right now, he feels like he's being read like an open manuscript.

The daunting prospect Cato's caught sinks it's teeth in his gullet. It's impossible, he's not left any room for suspicion, he's covered his tracks—there's no logical reason why he should be getting raked with such a look.

His gene-sire isn't a psyker nor omniscient, just impossibly intelligent—and so absurdly good at the mathematics of plotting and planning that it only appears superficially as if he is all-seeing. He can't possibly know what Cato has been doing—or rather, who he's been doing.

"It's about time," his Father hums abruptly, suddenly disinterested. "Now you're dismissed."

Cato nods, turns on his boot heel, and nigh bolts marches out the room. His proverbial tail definitely not between his legs.

The hall outside Guilliman's apartments is a central domed area that functions as a meeting area, where people go to one of six looming hallways. It's the bottom of a series of levels; and above, three echelons encircled by arcades and balustrades, framed on the exterior by engaged columns.

But the structure itself is immense and ancient, even by Imperial standards. One of the few still-original, unaltered parts of the great Gloriana-class warship's innards. It is doused in long swathes of red carpet and great standards of Magcraggian note, alongside glorious, heroic frescoes depicting Legiones Astartes in their thousands, crusading across the heavens with the Emperor their head.

Cato keeps his head down as he passes them, uneasy with guilt. Feeling as if their lenses are following him—intent on venturing into the lower layers to brood.

Several Astartes are hovering about amongst the personnel and serfs. The baselines look up at him in awe, and his Brothers nod in respect, but he pays them all no mind.

The furthest corridor beckons him, and so he goes; down the complex system of broad walks with high, barrel vault ceilings, mazing through the vessel's higher clearance reaches like arteries through a body.

Cato is seething, and self-admittedly itching to take a howler of a swing at the next thing that speaks to him.

He cuts down the southern channel and sees one of his subordinate Victrix Guard lingering in the middle of a groin vault intersection.

The younger Astartes is about to continue straight, yet he pauses.

Brother Marcellus meets Cato's eyes for a second, clearly notes his Commander's absolutely stinking mood from a hundred meters off; nods, swallows, takes a step backward—and changes direction to go left rather than pass him.

Cato's too pissed to even linger on the strangeness of the action.

Still, he doesn't rightly blame him.

Cato strides on, back straight, chin up—the red shawl pinned beneath his pauldrons swirling behind him.

His thoughts are eating at him the whole while.

He's sure his Primarch is just trying to innocently divine his sudden change of mind regarding you. There's no way his Father's aware of why. And yet, guilt is a big black wolf nipping at his ankles, making him hasten; and unease clouds about his heart. He's mortified, for lack of a better word.

The full implications of the situation are too enormous to be faced all at once; so he picks the smallest, most banal facet he can think of.

That being, you.

You, who he'll never see again if his Primarch finds out.

You, who's practically damned him without knowing it.

You, who he's now valiantly trying not to imagine in a hundred different circumstances where he gets away with it all. Each one more heretical than the last—it's like it was before he'd managed a hand on you: his body giving in to suffocating delusions, sleepless in his cot; lapping at whatever scant, lust-soaked morsels his mind offers up.

One of his favourites remains you scantily clad beneath a moonlit night sky, on the parapet of his ancestral fortress on the coastal edge of Perusia.

He likes to fantasise you like it there.

He suspects you would.

He knows just about all there is to know about you on paper, and wonders if you know much of Talassar. Or if you've read about Castra Tanagra. He assumes Guilliman would share the tale of that famed old battle with you as a part of your readings.

Each impossible reverie is a new shiny nail in his coffin, or dreadnaut—it depends where and how he dies, and if there's anything scrape up of him when he eventually goes down in a blaze of glory and duty, and honour.

If his Primarch catches him, there's going to be none of that.

He'll be struck from living record, like Titus had been. Cato would be lucky to get a little plaque in the deepest pits of the Fortress of Hera. Reduced to a whispered memory of his achievements passed solemnly between Captains, followed up with words of disappointment. Of waste. Until his memory dies with them and his deeds fade into obscurity, lost to any new brothers.

The fate that awaits you would somehow be worse. Cato was always going to die in war, as was his right—but you—you were not fashioned for such things. Yes, Guilliman enjoys you, but that fact won't save you. Just like it won't save Cato for all his usefulness. You'd be tried as a heretic, as a source of corruption upon the Legiones, and you'd be made to suffer; because torture ever comes before execution. You're so very soft weak in so very many ways. Your life lived in a gilded cage, without pain nor discomfort that extends further than grating professional grievances—he doesn't want to imagine the sound of you screaming, but he does.

He cannot stand the thought.

The sudden urge to barricade you in his chambers for permanent safe keeping is all-consuming.

It's suddenly all he can think about.

He has to find you.

The amount of serfs passing and parting to allow his passage thin out to nothing.

Even from the sterile confines of one of the many winding hallways, Cato abruptly swears he can hear the echoed rush of sandals—your sandals—reverberating off the floor.

He hadn't notice you following behind immediately because, damn it, he's spiralling thinking.

He chances a confrontation, and rounds about-face.

You stand there in the middle of the empty hallway like you've got a bolter aimed at you, frozen.

"Come here," he says, clipped.

You do not.

"Come here."

Again, no compliance.

"Do you pride yourself on being a idiot?" His voice is scathing now, taking a heavy step into your space and being met by you staying stock stiff, still. "Do you have any idea what that stunt of yours earlier might incur?"

"What?" You blink, finally animating. "I didn't do anything—"

"You know what you did," he hisses, accusatory. "You're hollow between the ears, but you're not blind."

Lips pursing tightly in mental deliberation, you make a fey noise of annoyance as a little frown graces your features, apparently not deigning to offer a comment back.

"Do you not understand that... this," he gesticulates between you both and his voice falls to a whisper. "This... is not common allowance?"

"It's not?"

Are you being intentionally dense at this point, or is it just second nature?

Cato raises a hand to knead the crease between his brows, "No."

"That explains a lot, actually," you say, seemingly without any real comprehension on the gravity of the matter. "I couldn't find any notes or references on it."

He's genuinely stunned, "Is that what you were doing when—"

"When I was rudely interrupted," you cut in, the comment is nigh a spat insult.

Cato isn't sure what to say to that sudden display of spine, and grumbles.

He surmises the optimal action is complete disregard.

Therefore, he has no problem turning on the heel of his sabatons and starting his pace on again.

"So... this isn't normal by Astartes standards?"

He's taken aback at your abrupt want for conversation after all that. Namely because it's atypical. You never attempted small talk with him. You never do anything but scurry off when he's accosted you for you flagrant overstepping—wait.

He feels as if the paradigm between you both has shifted again since the last time for some reason. More than last time, actually. More than you just simply having the audacity to backtalk him.

It's like some symptom of a deeper sickness rising to the surface.

It makes him unreasonably curious suspicious.

He wants to see just how much ground you'll give, so he plays along and answers, "Not as far as I am aware, no."

You hum, and immediately are at it again, posturing, "Surely you have heard of cases of it happening?"

"I have not," Cato says, and you hum in consideration.

You're satisfied at that information for a brief while, but then he remembers you cannot shut your mouth for more than five minutes, and purses his lips. He's already tiring of your incessant questioning.

"But you'd done it before?"

And that's just great.

You've expertly found an exposed nerve.

More kindling on the bonfire of him having an aneurysm before the cycle's end.

Cato can feel the hint of pressure behind his eyes as he begins increasing his walking speed. "I don't think that is a relevant question."

You haste to stay in step, "It definitely is."

"You ought to learn a civil fucking tongue when you're addressing me, woman," he bites out, nose crinkling into a sneer.

Unperturbed by his short-tempered comment, another thoughtful little 'hmm' slips out of you.

"So, to conclude... you where as inexperienced as I was at the start, and all those gloating insults back then were just projection?" You suddenly blurt out at rather impressive speed, like a politician possessed—before finishing with, "Sorry, 'all those gloating insults back then were just projection,' Commander Sicarius."

Cato grits his teeth and feels his eye twitch.

He stops, turns to look over his pauldron, and stares bloody murder.

He can't even imagine the idiocy in your brain that gave you the imprimatur to say that aloud.

But Throne, the sly little glint in your pretty eyes suddenly has his face thudding with heat.

Then you smile at him for the second time ever.

Cato bites back the urge to ogle you dumbly, and actually feels himself thicken in his body-glove in real time, because oh, fuck—his hind brain practically pelts him across the jaw with the mental pict of that sweet mouth lathing up the side of his cock.

Mentally unseated for a moment, his brows furrow; and he quickly turns away, applying himself entirely to the task of trudging down the stagings.

The silence is a breath of fresh air.

Even if he can still hear your laboured breathing a few steps back him from him. You're straining to keep up with his pace, and it's an excellent punishment for you. His heavy sabatons clank-clank-clank on the steel decking, and your little shoes practically pitter-patter in contrast. It's a syncopated rhythm that he's absentmindedly trying to match—and when he lingers for a step he manages to even the beat out.

He hangs a left, and scales the wide stairs to the open intersection platform above two at a time; trying not to snort amusedly at the little groan you let out as you hurry up them behind him, heaving.

Cato realises abruptly that you're actually, really, seriously following him—and pretending you're not.

He makes a right at the top and then waits for you to fall in step.

And, pointedly, he then turns and doubles back around.

You stand there stupefied for a moment, before grumbling softly and continuing down the thoroughfare without him.

If his observation skills hold any weight, he heads straight into the nearest open room and waits for you to follow.

He doesn't activate the locking mechanism on the other side on purpose when he strides in, and lets the sliding door close behind him.

This particular room is forgettable in its ubiquitousness, though unusual. He has no idea of it's actual intended purpose. It's fitted with screens and database terminals as if it's for debriefing purposes, but he has no real way of confirming. What he can catalogue is that there's wraparound surfaces littered with candles. A few strips of harsh lighting and scant furniture—a tallish counter and a few long benches. They're thankfully Astartes sized.

Which means he can sit down and pray for you to walk right into the metaphorical snare he's just laid.

Not a minute later, the door's sliding mechanism triggers and you scurry through—only to promptly go stiff.

You stare at him like a rat he's just found by lifting a crate.

The mechanism shuts automatically behind you and it apparently spooks you enough to jump a little.

"You're disgustingly predictable," he harrumphs, unimpressed.

A flush rises to your face as you scowl, "You're disgustingly predictable," you shoot back, echoing his words.

Of course, that audacity of yours leads to a short stalemate.

He huffs out a sigh as he concedes out of sheer frustration and says, "Three-seven-five-eight-eight-two-nine-one."

You blink dumbly at him, "...what?"

"It's my locking code," he growls, and Throne, you must be acting stupid just to grate him; because there's no way your brain is so smooth as to not connect the dots. "It's for the door, moron."

A soft 'ohh' leaves you as you turn and step aside to the key pad fixed into the frame.

"Three-seven-five-eight-eight-two-nine-one," he's agonisingly forced to say once again.

"Three-nine-five-eight-eight-two-seven-one..." you mumble to yourself.

Cato hears an angry beep and suddenly wants to smash his head into a wall repeatedly.

Grinding his molars, he snarls, "Three-seven-five-eight-eight-two-nine-one," and then adds, "If I have to repeat that one more time, I'm going to throw you out of the nearest airlock."

And it seems the threat of violence works wonders, because you don't bungle the input this time.

Cato sighs, exasperated, and leans back against the lip of the table behind the bench.

He ought to start carrying around a correctional stun rod. Just for whenever you annoy him. If it's good enough for a Neophyte to suffer, it's good enough for you, he supposes.

Or it'll send you into a seizing fit.

He's not to sure of the maximum voltage a baseline can take without their singular, puny little heart giving out.

One disciplinary option scratched out, then.

But he can think of many, many more to make a model Ambassador out of you. The wonders of carefully applied violence are plentiful. A little roughing up never hurts, or at least, not for long. And fuck, do you need some lessons on proper manners. He could have you smacked into shape like a show pony in no time—even if it'd be more like teaching a grox to trot lateral movements. Then again, he also believes if he stuck a frag far enough up a Carnifex's ass, he could probably get it to play Regicide.

And then pointedly, he starts thinking about your ass.

Cato is so utterly lost on the tangent of hypotheticals that he's flabbergasted when a small mouth lands on his own.

He hadn't even been paying attention.

He hadn't even noticed you'd neared.

It feels like the breath has been knocked out him at the sheer unexpectedness of it.

The kiss is hasty, your eyes scrunched shut and cheeks flushed, scowling with focus.

All the while, his mind reels because Throne, the contact of his lips to yours doesn't really feel particularly profound aside from how soft your skin is—but the intention of it is the real reward.

Cato's genuinely infuriated when you pull away.

You blink owlishly at him, giving him a cautious look like you're trying to gauge his reaction.

There are a thousand things he wants to ask, to say, but the foremost among them is but one.

"Again," he huffs, lessening the distance between you just enough to invite you back.

And he thinks that perhaps he’s abusing his station over you, but when you tentatively find a hold on his gorget to steady yourself to give him another kiss—those thoughts are all but erased from his mind. It's a curious weight off his shoulders to have you initiate and to show you want him in return, especially since it's as new to you as it is for him.

Nonetheless, he can't even imagine finding a reason to stop you, so he starts blindly mouthing; trying to coordinate around the fact he's so much larger than you.

The angle is difficult, but he's willing to follow your lead. Your body is even more fragile when he's in full armour. The risk of actually hurting you is realer than ever, but he can't help the desire to wrap an gauntlet around your waist and pull you closer to him. Thankfully, you let him when he urges you to, trembling hands flitting across his chestplate like you're unsure of what, exactly, you should be holding—and he catches the tiny line between your brows smoothing out as you risk a peek. Only for you to yelp, nervously wrenching yourself back in flustered surprise upon meeting his unwavering stare.

It's as if you expected something else.

He senses he's made a mistake of some kind.

Then he remembers from the motion-picts he's not supposed to keep glaring at you when kissing.

Regardless, he studies your face, memorising the lingering want still clearly there like his life depends on it.

He pulls you in and kisses you again, just because he can, this time brief and chaste. And then he goes for a third, fourth—fifth, each time slightly longer, until finally he rears back; and when he does you push up on your toes just a little, trying to chase him, but lose the nerve; although to Cato the reason for your faltering is, frankly, irrelevant. Because just like him, you lack the practical capacity to really know what next step you should take. Still, you look down at his armour, as if there's a latch to pull that magically undoes all his wargear.

He knows he's not going to get himself out of his armour in any reasonable way or amount of time.

There's no way he's getting the satisfaction of having you on him right now—but he still wants to keep you near.

He thinks he hears you ask for something, but he's too distracted to catch it in time.

"What?" Cato scowls, "What do you want now?"

It's clear you've been struck by your own embarrassment, strung up somewhere between shy and wanton, "I.. uh..."

"Spit it out," he rumbles.

You wince, hesitant as you mumble, "You, uh... i-in me."

Cato's brain skids to a halt. And it's the gall of that request alone that has him sweeping you up off the ground and spinning you around to sit in his lap.

It's obvious you're overwhelmed at being held to the formidably larger size of himself in full-plate. But as usual, you're yet to actively complain. Using his vambrace as a leg-bar to scoop under your thighs, he folds you in his grasp—your knees pressed to your chest as you're tucked back against his pauldron and chestplate.

The angle forces the hems of your robe aside, and he can see the underside curve of your ass; along with the plump mound of your vulva under the white of your small-clothes.

Cato's suddenly offended by their existence. You didn't wear any last time, so why now? The irritation of there being one more thing between you and him is enough justification to yank at them, tearing them loose—before throwing them aside.

You grumble sourly, which he chooses to ignore.

The palm of his gauntlet smooths across your hip, and you make a small huff as you shiver, goose-bumps suddenly covering your exposed flesh.

Cato lets the pads graze closer and closer to your sex, content to watch you impatiently glare at his armoured fingers from between the gap of your thighs.

With little preamble, he's stuffing his middle in. You're already so wet it's practically a cake-walk. Your cunt swallows down each articulating segment of his armoured finger down to the knuckle. The fact he's going to have to personally scrub your slick out from between the joints, instead of a lowly serf, is infinitely worth the shrill whine he receives as tribute.

"Would that my wargear had a zipper," he breathes, and fuck, he grins behind the obscurity of his gorget at the mournful mewl that remark earns. "I'd have you on your knees sucking for all the cunted trouble you've caused me."

You're making a warp-awful attempt at keeping yourself together, high-strung as you evidently are. Little more than a minute of him pumping his finger in and out of you has you red-faced and panting. All it takes to get those heavy breaths of yours to change into proper whines is his large thumb-pad adjusting to rest on your clit, applying pressure. You jerk, reflexively trying to buck into every motion. Fighting and failing to withhold the stuffy little moans escaping you—trying to stave off the inevitable by scrambling at the thigh plating of his power armour with one hand and tugging at his couter with the other.

Some part of Cato wants to stop solely out of spite for you being so grating earlier, or some other stupid mercurial justification of his; but instead, he simply continues, letting you squirm on his fingers.

And squirm you do.

It's clear to him the tide of it all is becoming too much for you to resist. Your sandal'd feet kick out where he's got your legs secured, joining in on the struggling as it begins anew when his thumb starts circling. It's a good sign, so he adds his pointer into you to bolster the stretch, curling in; before letting his fingers fan out inside you, stretching rather than stabbing. Your hips try to stutter forward in time with the quick thrusting of his digits, broken whimpers resonating off the room's walls. He promptly stuffs down to the knuckle and curls them again—and you all but bleat his surname as you're dragged into a fast and apparently exhausting orgasm. Just knowing he's you got you beat has his erection ache where it's trapped under the suiting and plating of his navel.

Cato can't feel you clenching through all the layers separating his skin from yours, but he knows from experience that you're seizing in fits internally—tight little cunt trying to milk a load out of an Astartes cock that should've been stuffed in you.

Just to allow himself one last bit of smugness, he scissors his fingers; giving a final swirl for good measure.

The shivered sob is worth every possible future disciplinary action he'll receive.

He pulls his gauntlet away slowly, and the wet shlick of it leaving you is almost amusingly alike pulling a blade from sinew. It's a degenerate comparison, he knows, but it's true.

Nonetheless, he splays out his hand and swallows dryly, eyeing the sticky, clear liquid webbing out and thinning between each ridge of his gauntlet'd digits.

Suddenly focused entirely on the fluid on his fingers, he pulls his vambrace barring under your knees up away. Now limp, and without the support, you slide off his lap and onto the floor in a slow slump.

"Nn-ngh," You groan weakly, face-down, legs still juddering a little.

Seeing as you're preoccupied, Cato doesn't even dignify the concept of hesitation, and promptly jams his fingers in his mouth—lathing the aftermath of your orgasm from them. And Throne, the taste of your hormones make him groan. He's absolutely stunned, unsure of how to act. He's so fucking stupid, why didn't he do this earlier? He's practically drugged by the omophagic aftereffect—getting off on your second hand bliss. Some sort of fey feedback loop in his brain catalysing his next decision solely on instinct.

He clambers to the floor and gets to his knees guards, securing a mitt on your bared thigh to roll you onto your back.

Apparently boneless with afterglow, you're easy to manhandle.

You barely have the strength to do much more than crane your head up at him and whine as he arranges your thighs apart, settling on his front between them with a warp-awful clank; before lifting your legs up to rest onto either lip of his gorget.

You try to scud back on your ass suddenly, but are quickly halted when he holds you fast by the hip.

He raises a confused brow.

"I-Isn't—" you start, still gathering the scraps of your brain together so soon post-orgasm, "Isn't y-your saliva acid?"

Cato suddenly wants to cuff you on the ear, "Who the hell told you that?"

"M-Master Calgar," you mumble.

Oh, of course, the gossiping hen.

He's going to have words with the Lord Defender of Greater Ultramar the next time they meet—words like 'for fuck sakes, stop scaring the woman he's trying to eat out with talk of Betcher's gland, Marneus,' come to mind, but then Cato realises that doesn't sound like he's not fucking you, so he quickly settles on: 'stop dignifying the Ambassador's hundred-and-one insane questions.'

"Not Ultramarines," Cato manages not to snarl, "It's a vestigial organ in most of us."

Your voice is shaky as you parrot, "Most of us?"

"Yes," He grunts, and promptly buries his face in your cunt.

The disproportion in size is painfully apparent when he realises his whole damned tongue is able to drag a stripe up the entire splay of you with minimal effort.

The pitched gasp he wins out of you is pure sin, and he's on the brink of swooning; but then you're running your trap again.

"Please, d-don't tell me you're one that can spit acid—" you manage to warble, seemingly still stuck on the topic.

Cato sighs as he's forced to pull away from your vulva, "I think you're forgetting I had my tongue on your tonsils in the library."

"Th-that's different," you stammer. "That's not as sensitive."

A long, unimpressed deadpan paints itself on his face.

"So," he starts with a bated hiss, "And let me be perfectly clear in this—you believe your vagina is more susceptible to burns than your mouth?"

Your face transforms into a strange mix of embarrassed and angry.

"I didn't say that—"

"Yes, you did," Cato grumbles.

"Did not," you huff.

"You—you just fucking did," he snaps, frustrated enough that he can feel one of the veins at his temple bulge. "The implication is obvious, you insufferable little whore."

You snort, but stay silent.

The argument appears, for all intents and purposes, to be finished.

"Did not," you say abruptly once more, pouting.

Cato's eyes roll back in his skull as he grits his teeth.

"Throne of Terra, if you don't drop the subject, acid in your cunt will be the least of your worries," he all but snarls, and that apparently quietens you enough that he can get back to lapping at you—the flat of his tongue running over your clit and earning a jolt.

He wraps his lips around the pink little nub and sucks. And that's all it apparently takes to make up for his amateur career in the practice.

You siphon down a sharp breath and let out a garbled cry, hips canting forward into his mouth—to which he obligingly stuffs his tongue into your slick entrance.

There's a satisfaction well beyond simple pleasure that swamps him at the way your thighs shake either side of his head. His own breath is hot about him, stuffy and dizzying; and the skin pressed against his cheeks is warm and smooth.

You're panting when he goes back to lapping over your clit, perching yourself up on a bent elbow and reaching out a hand.

Your fingers card through the messed brown hair atop his head. And he stiffens without realising—but he realises something: like this, the touch is ecstasy—pure, golden ecstasy. Every bit of higher thought in his head evaporates when you stroke him again.

A long, rumbling subvocal moan tears from him.

The infrasound vibration makes you buck weakly into his mouth again, teary eyed afore him as he adjusts his grip on you and crawls closer.

He's suddenly acutely aware that in this new, much more prone position, he's able to grind his body armour into his groin guard pressed on the floor. And as soon as the action bears results—namely a scorching burr of pleasure racing up his spine—he's deadset on rutting against the ground like a slavering beast.

He's frotting himself at a pace so rabid it'd be cruel to subject your cunt to. It's brutal, and the harsh scraping sound of plasteel on steel only further proves that. It's just frantic lust—he's desperate.

It's complete insanity how close to finishing he is so quickly.

Not as close as you, though.

He can feel how your legs jump with each pass of his tongue; and then you're unraveling in front of his very eyes.

"I-I can't—I can't, S-Sicarius, I-I—" You ramble, dazed, trying to get away as he works you right through it, sobbing and oversensitive while he's rutting himself closer and closer to his own end.

It all comes to a head when your fingers dig into his hair, tugging—and his brain is overrun with static. A drawn out groan scathes from his maw as any sense of rhythm scatters like light through a prism. For a fraction of a second, the pleasure is serene.

Then it's abject agony, he feels—he feels like Roboute Guilliman himself has just taken a running start and kicked him in the balls.

"F-Fuck–ing—gh—" he chokes, vision swimming, straining against the tide of the torment. His back arches up, and he curls inward on himself; white-hot pain clocking his nervous system into overdrive. Every muscle in his abdomen is doused in acid. He's tolerated being shot, stabbed, burnt without so much as blinking—but this is an entirely new and entirely different sort of wound. It's like he's pissing promethium. It's—it's the catheter, he realises. He'd forgotten about the bloody catheter jammed up his cock.

Through the searing ordeal, he manages to force his armour's facilities to finally abide his impulses and dose him with a pain dampener.

And then everything's fine.

He opens eyes he wasn't aware he'd closed and finds your face has suddenly gotten far closer to his.

"S-Sicarius?" You stammer, and there's an honest panic in your voice. "Sicarius, p-please, please—a-are you okay?"

He realises he's on his back, and you're sitting beside him, half draped on his chestplate, frantically trying to figure out what's wrong with him to no avail.

You've leaned in so close he can feel your rushed breathing.

"I'm fine," Cato groans, and you sputter out a sigh.

"I-I don't know what happened, I-I—" you're still wildly confused and raving, and he inhales deeply; only to be greeted by the sour animal stink of fear practically dripping from you.

Cato rolls his tongue around inside his mouth and cringes knowingly at the foaming side-effect of the chem he'd self-administered, the acrid taste mixed with your slick is certainly not an ideal cocktail.

The sincerity of concern behind your reaction is baffling. He's not made of glass, for fuck sakes—and he's a bit pissy about the fact you'd actually fallen victim to the idea of him suffering some grievous injury so easily. But he supposes where there's a will of baseline overreaction, there's a way.

"You're acting like a child, woman. Pull yourself together," he sighs hoarsely, hoping the comment jars you out of your hysteria—or at the very least scares you off.

It does exactly neither, and you sidle in closer and rest your cheek on his jaw.

It’s an action so overwhelmingly horribly affectionate that it would’ve been a crime to not press into it with a lean of his head. Or, at least, that's the half-assed justification he tells himself.

Because he's loving enduring your attention, not seeking it; and therefore only humouring you when he lifts a hand and settles the wide splay of it on your flank as a comfort.

He shouldn't be, but he is.

[hayw1res]

stubborn princess and the silent knight.. !

a/n: ive been writing this for a month like guys life has been… life okay. ill do the kinktober list….. maybe soon . this isnt proofread and its kinda fast paced? idk guyys

warnings: drinking , kissing , “secret identity” , nothing 18+ yet folks

pairing: knight! megumi x princess! reader

you hated it, oh how you hated your father - the king, your mother - the queen, you even hated the maids and various servants who called upon you to serve your every beck and call. you hated it all, but you loved looking from your terrance down to the knights in training, the boy with jet black hair and a scowl on his perfect face.. oh how you loved to think of him while you swooned over the side of the balcony, clutching your chest in hopes he didnt see you staring so intently. the way he sparred with almost little effort put into the fight, the way his sword always glistened from his upkeep, the way hed wipe the sweat from his brow, but constantly ask to continue fighting.

oh everything about him was just so dreamy.. you'd write in your diary about him. about your fantasies.. about how you wished to be together one day - for him to teach you the way of the sword and for you to tend to his wounds when he ever gotten hurt.. you ached for just a sentence to fall from his pretty lips, just for one day call you his own.. to call you his princess.

your fantasy cut short when your father called you down for supper, he wasn't a bad man, he was no tyrant.. but you fell victim to his expectations. you were nearing 20 , unmarried and still unwilling to court- your parents started to grow impatient..almost everyday a new prince from a "far away kingdom" would trot his was to your throne to ask your hand in marriage, each answer stayed the same... a big fat no.

"my dear.. the prince of homsworth would make a fine husband would he not?

your father spoke, it broke you from your daydream.

"father, i dont need to wed yet.. besides wouldn't you rather i fall in love? have a man swoop me off my feet rather than settle for the next prince up.." you muttered the last part to yourself, your mother clearing her throat after you

"me and your father courted young- we didnt know it then but we were in love.. how shall you know love if you never experience it-" she went on and on, during about responsibility and what a good princess should act like... this talk again, always on and on about how a princess shall act - how a princess shall talk - how she shall dress.. all of it went through one ear and out the other.

supper always went this way, they argue and dispute about your unwillingness to marry, you tell them no and finish dinner, then you run away to your room and rest the night away.. you were used to this song and dance already- you lived the same day over and over again without fail.. it was tiresome. just as you were about to place your napkin on the table and push your chair away to excuse yourself, your father stopped you.

"ive arranged something, darling.. an escort. we are worried about you" he says kindly as he motions for one if the knights to step forward, dawned in nothing but chainmail and metallic clothing, the knight bows to you.

"he. is your personal knight. for your safety and for my own concern of you... sneaking out at night." the king adds on, your mother nodding in agreement. sneaking out? how dare they assume you of such low standard.. you may hate the constant reminder but - you still were a princess.. the future ruler of this kingdom.

"id never. you say with a scoff, standing up to excuse yourself, forgetting you now be followed by silent footsteps. they followed you from the grand hall, to the corridor, to the entrance of your bedroom. you huff and turn around, the idea of the knight following you everywhere both annoyed and excited you.. yes you hated the idea of not being able to sneak out anymore— but a knight? Your knight, that did anything you’d ask him to..

You sat and pondered at the door, awkwardly asking him if he were to follow you to your bedroom or stay out here- and much to your surprise the silent man turned to stand guard at your large double doors. You couldn’t help but think..when did he rest? when did he eat? when did he have time to do.. anything? so many questions remained unanswered as your infatuation grew- mixed with the curiosity of who was under that mask.. you hoped it was the boy with the jet black hair.

“well.. goodnight” you spoke quietly , receiving only a nod in return.

that started you nightly routine for months.

each and everyday he would follow you around, do small tasks you asked of him, and everynight he would stand guard outside your doors. you wondered if he enjoyed this or secretly hated you.. you wondered if you were even kind enough to him for him to enjoy his job.

“oh well..” you whisper to yourself at night as you covered your body with the thick blankets given to you from the maidens.. winter was coming fast.

the next morning you received notice that your knight would be gone for the day, apparently he was leading some other younger recruits in training, so you had a replacement ! he was much more.. talkative than what youre used to. you thought it was fun, speaking to him almost all day.

his name was yuji , he apparently been training here for years and is on the same rank as your knight which you learn is named megumi.

“megumi has always been like that, quiet i mean.. its not because he hates you he just takes a while opening up!” yuji heard all about it, he wanted you guys to be buddies. especially because he wanted to secretly also be buddies with the princess, but that was besides the point.

“im sure if you keep being kind to him, eventually he will start talking —maybe talk about his interests ! i think its just fighting though.. occasionally ill see him writing in a little journal too!” yuji exclaimed excitedly , you nod.. maybe that’s exactly what you’ll do.

the next few days went by quickly, you and yuji became a bit closer and your father started to slowly stop asking you about marriage since every single time you just ignore him or say “no” . today was the day megumi came back from training , unfortunately that meant yuji went back to his usual schedule but that didnt mean you couldn’t visit him!

megumi was stoic as always, standing beside you as you walked down the halls of your castle.. you sigh as you turn to look at him.. he still had that damn helmet on.

“I heard from Yuji that your name is Megumi.. is that true?” You ask , a basket in your arm as you prepared to go to the garden

megumi could only hum, at least you got that out of him..

“right.. you know my name of course. i didnt take yuji to be such a talker, i thought all you knights were strong silent types”

before you could reach for the door he already opened it for you, leading out to the large greenhouse you kept.. you smile and walk ahead of him.

the sun was bright today, though it was approaching winter it seemed the winds were lower .. a moderate temperature. you walked into the greenhouse and started to tend to your plants, picking off a few you wanted to add to the pots around the castle

“so.. do you do anything other than this?” you ask, trying to get the silent man to open up. he stays silent for a while.

“.. i enjoy sparring” he says finally, the deep rumble in his voice almost makes you crumble. you giggle at the answer.. of course he would enjoy something like that.

“right.. i see you guys usually from my balcony. it seems a bit harsh.. but i get it for practice” you continue picking flowers until the basket is full, turning back to the knight

“its a wonderful day outside.. shame we have to stay indoors and miss the festival.” you catch him off guard, a princess such as yourself being interested in the commoners dance? he and yuji participated often, mainly because yuji enjoyed them most of all.. megumi only went to make sure yuji didnt do anything stupid. the knight let out a hum, a noise that almost startled you.

“sounds like you don’t believe me.. didnt father tell you why you are hired in the first place..?” You chuckle, picking up the basket of flowers .. he knew of the mischief you got up to at night.. he knew you would sneak out your bedroom window in a gown to fit in while you danced and drank with the common folk. he knew this all because you intrigued him.. from the moment he seen you watching his training on the balcony.

“.. yes” he said simply, following behind you back to your room as the sun began to set. you were surprised he said anything.. his deep but smooth voice almost made you melt

“i know you leave the castle often.. you come back smelling of booze but you look- happy almost..” he continued until you both reached the doors to your room.

“then..?” you turn to him, expecting him to just shut you down and make you go to bed.. but something about his demeanor today.

“then.. i hope you dont get hurt” he says under his breath, almost a silent way of telling you to enjoy yourself, of course he would be watching you all night anyways. he always did when you went out.. always.

the night progressed as usual, you went to your room and he guarded your door..except tonight was the night of the festival. at a shivering 2 am you dressed in a black gown and climbed out your bedroom window to join in on the festival! there was dancing and singing, chanting of prayers, drinks being passed about every which way, this is what you were missing being stuck in that godawful castle all your life, and now that you were older you were able to enjoy them to the fullest in secret.

you danced, you sang and you drank until you felt your body lighten and you never felt better. you couldn’t help but feel a pair of eyes lingering on you that night.. more than usual at least. you stumble and make your way to the path that lead to a hidden entrance to the castle, one close to your room. you heave as small breaths leave your body.

footsteps trail behind you and you freeze, usually you never had an issue with people following you home or drunkards stumbling on the path, almost always finding a way to slip away undetected. you start to speed up as much as your heels would allow on the rough terrain. you almost fall until a pair of arms catch you, fear washes over you for a second before you hear him.

“Are you alright..” His soft voice hit your ears and you sigh .. that voice again

“Fine…Fine now.” The adrenaline washed over you knowing it was just megumi, his hands felt soft.. you turned to look at him finally, but he wore a mask. go figure i guess.

“I guess.. we go home now?” You say , almost as if you were inviting him- like you don’t live together practically. You begin your walk he was silent for a while, just following you while you make your way to the castle.. going on and on about the festival as if you hadn’t experienced the same things. He didnt care though, he didnt care that you talked so much about your day because he wanted to hear it from your perspective.

The night was young , once you two made it back to the castle and your room..it was like your conversation made time go by faster.. talking to- or rather at him was refreshing. Even if he was just behind a mask.

“Want to just.. come sit inside?”

“..Okay..”

How did those few words end up with the two of you in a dark room, making out like a couple of teenagers? You couldnt tell.. you complimented his mask, almost got him to take it off.. he convinced you maybe its better to turn the lights off and you.. believed him.

Now the two of you sit on your bed, hands roaming eachothers bodies in a hot , steamy , messy makeout session.. tongues clashing in a battle for dominance you were slowly losing. You didnt even care that he were your knight.. you didnt care about anything other than how he felt right about now.

that feeling didnt last forever.. soon the gasping of air filled the area , you wanted more, needed it..

but your eyes shut gently .. you feel sleep taking you away and by the time you wake hes gone..

“ugh.. my head hurts..”

[r-riri]

'if i could get out of this place' - red haired shanks

(credits to @strangergraphics-archive for the divider)

word count 1,496

fluff mixed with angst

the glistering water reflected the deepest shames a pirate could have. they sparkled and shimmered with warmth and comfort like a siren begging the man to join her. though he couldn't, he made an oath to his crew, his friends, his chosen family.

this is how she felt staying behind on the ship whilst the men on board disbanded and explored the island that claimed to be the best makers of the richest rum. y/n had no interest in silly rum that could ease her stresses, no, y/n was a woman at heart in a ship of men so instead of drinking her sorrows she looked them dead on with a clear mind.

y/n peered over the sturdy railing into the depths of the shallow water, studying the small fish who wondered under the surface. y/n felt a pit grow in her stomach not at the water but it was a twisting feeling shes only ever felt once during her whole life. that one time was the desperation of begging Gold D. Roger to let her join his crew so she could learn under the greatest pirate known to man. that desperation and willingness to do anything needed to ensure that y/n got the one thing that she believed made her heart pound.

so why was she feeling that again? Nonetheless why was she feeling it while staring at the small yellow fish swimming ignorantly though the warm water that welcomed the fish with encouraging arms. why did she feel sickly at the though of this fish.

"ive happen to grow to like you so you better not jump" a cunningly smooth voice said from behind her, she glanced over her shoulder having gotten used to the men on this ship trying to take the chance at scaring y/n.

"shanks? why am i not surprised" she smirked seeing his laid smile that was strung along his lips like god himself took the time to craft his face until he deemed it was perfection.

shanks trotted the space between them and laid his torso over y/ns back leaning all his weight onto her "omg you disgusting man get your unwashed self off me" y/n laughed between her words wilfully ignoring the heavily deepening feeling down in the pits of her stomach that grew bigger the longer she stayed

"carry me woman" he groaned into y/n's neck to which her eyes rolled in amusement before shrugging him off and he crashed to the ground wheezing, y/n stepped on his torso and over him away from the railing "why must my true love wound me so" he coughed

y/n snickered but never responded and walked into the dinning room in search for a glass of water to maybe drown the green feeling growing inside my body, that grew like a fungal infection.

y/n downed a glass of water but felt the same feeling clutch her lungs squeezing them tightly with desperation to be acknowledged. y/n rubbed their eyes hoping that maybe she may have caught a cold and thats why she may be feeling ill, though deep down she knew exactly what she was feeling, she knew the cause and she knew the solution to what would make this feeling dissipate.

y/n left the kitchen seeing the deck empty, shanks must have left to god knows where, instead she beelined to her own quarters, it may have been small and compacted in comparison to the mens roomy quarters but at least it didn't stink as if 10 dead bodies died in soured milk. instead the compact room laid pictures of people she once met, the memories of the girl and her old life the one she yearns- no no, y/n does not yearn for that life, she is happy sailing the seas, she loves the people. yes she makes comments that they stink, but these people chose her for their family.

even if y/n is happy the books that laid open with messy handwriting of different words that can only exist in the scapes of her mind, the words written were once poisoned with heartbreak and wishing now strung into beauty of the lives she writes for people she can only imagine herself in.

y/n sat on the neatly dressed bed that fit the facade that y/n put on herself each day pretending to not yearn for a life where she could see her name highlighted positively about the books she yearns to be writing and and the stories she yearns to tell to the children who grew the way she did but never got the chance to explain.

y/n pulled out a small grey box from under her bed and uncapped the box revealing 4 letters with four different names written in a neat font from a fancy feathered ink pen,

shanks buggy roger Rayleigh

the four people that she held close during her time upon this ship, each letter contain a scripture about her love and adoration for each of them uniquely dictated to each person and their individual tendencies.

she grabbed a small bag and stuffed it with her brimming books and small nicknacks that she kept from people who gift them to her and laid the letters along the dressed bed and made her escape.

she disembarked from the boat and walked along the coast of the island searching for a unmanned boat to use to leave her second life behind and as she found a small rowboat unmanned she boarded it and soon she sat there writing the end of her book that she lived with her favourite family.

as the sun hid from the people and the moon stood proudly in its place shanks roamed the ship looking for y/n, he had news to tell her, he needed to have a discussion with her but he failed to find her, finally he ventured into unknown territory and he stepped into her room and laid small letters with names, he grasped his letter and he ripped it opened hastily,

he stood there after reading the letter and felt a droplet down his cheek, cold and wet, it was a singular tear, shanks gripped the letter and left the room running off the ship and screamed her name until his voice was bare and dry

that was the day shanks lost someone he deemed to be important to him.

25 years later

y/n laughed as she sighed a copy of 'love lost' a book that she wrote 7 years ago, she smiled at the girl who raved about the book and how it helped her though a moment in her life.

"thanks kid" y/n smiled kindly as she handed the book to the girl again and gave her a hug as the girl asked for "this book meant a lot to me when i first wrote it so i'm glad it helped you" y/n smiled as she slowly bid her goodbyes and left the area and walked along the uneven cobble stone she admired the stone work of this small island that invited me to do a book signing.

"so this is where you've been hiding" a voice cold as ice rang though her ears, this voice shot y/n through the heart as she recognised the owner of the voice, she felt her throat close up at the fear of being confronted of a character from her past life as a pirate, the irony of 25 years ago she had been admiring (more like loathing the freedom of a fish) when shanks approached her. now 25 years later she was admiring stone work when shanks again approached her.

"now you wont even turn to look at me" shanks mused trotting the fine line between the two people "you left without even a goodbye y/n, a letter? a letter was all that had been left in your wake" he leaned down to her level to which y/n finally glanced behind and looked at his missing arm

"see you've made changes" she attempted to joke to which he leaned back

"and you've become an author" he countered back at her "see we've both changed"

"shanks i'm sorry but i had to leave, if i ever left it would have eaten me alive, i'm sure i would have been a author if only i had left that place, and i left and now look at me. i've written 3 books and 2 miniseries' i did what i dreamed to do" y/n explained in a melancholy tonal voice

y/n watched shanks nod "you did what you needed to do, buggy cried his eyes out the crook" he shrugged as if he wasn't also affected "i'm glad your'e smiling the same way you did back then" he wrapped his arm around her "big nerd" he teased

she smiled "stinker" she teased back

taglist - @flusteredmoonn

[jaspalicous]

HELLO uhh I just wanted to do this ask a question thingy(because Im terrified of talking to people) to say that there is a channel on YouTube that has still wakes the deep ambience stuff and one of them is with trots scurrying around and rambling like the freak show he is (I LOVE HIM I SWEAR) AND I'M JUST LIKE SENDING THIS BECAUSE FROM WHAT IVE SEEN, YOU LIKE TROTS SO I THOUGHT I WOULD SHARE THIS WONDERFUL INFORMATION ok Im yapping now BYE

YOU. WHOEVER YOU ARE THANK YOU. I HAVE THE PERFECT AUDIO FOR SCHOOL NOW HAHAHAHAGASGAHAHAYYSGAUAUAGAYAUYS

[blank-house]

Aaah ive read through the entire blog now that there is one and i have so much brainrot its insane. Its quite late so i dont have the brain capacity to fangirl over how perfect this demo is... BUT I CAN FANGIRL OVER THE LOVE OF MY LIFE MY SUNSHINE ELIO 😭❤️ THE MORE I DISCOVER ABOUT HIM THE MORE I THINK "YEAH THIS ONE WAS MADE FOR ME" I cant wait to play more and thank you for creating this gorgeous boi ❤️

aw, i'm so glad you like elio!

he's such a sweetheart and so so fun to write. i'm sure he'd be flattered to be on the receiving end of such enthusiasm. if not, wildly embarrassed about it. pray that we get funded and make it to summer because that's really when we'll get to trot him out in his element.

[the-henry-cavillian]

The Perfect Fit: Iconic Roles That Henry Cavill Was Born To Play

Henry Cavill has proven himself as a versatile actor, demonstrating charisma, physicality, and depth in his performances. In this article, we explore some iconic roles that would be a perfect fit for Cavill's talents, showcasing his ability to bring beloved characters to life with his unique presence and skill.

I. The Suave Super Spy:

Henry Cavill possesses the suave charm and physicality required to step into the shoes of a classic super spy. Whether it's James Bond or another iconic secret agent, Cavill's sophisticated demeanor and action prowess make him a natural fit for a role that demands equal parts charisma and intensity.

II. The Intrepid Adventurer:

With his rugged good looks and commanding presence, Henry Cavill would excel in a role that embodies the spirit of a fearless adventurer. Whether it's Indiana Jones or another legendary explorer, Cavill's ability to blend physicality with emotional depth would make him a captivating lead in a thrilling, globe-trotting escapade.

III. The Heroic Knight:

Henry Cavill's chiseled physique and regal aura make him an ideal candidate for a heroic knight or warrior. Whether it's a legendary character from mythology or a beloved figure from fantasy literature, Cavill's ability to convey strength, honor, and determination would bring such iconic roles to life with authenticity and gravitas.

IV. The Complex Antihero:

Henry Cavill has demonstrated his talent for playing complex characters with shades of gray. An iconic antihero, such as Batman or a morally conflicted protagonist, would provide Cavill the opportunity to showcase his acting range and delve into the depths of a character's psyche, creating a captivating portrayal that challenges traditional notions of heroism.

[sehodreamsthoughts]

heheh do u know if he’s going to be in a group or not? i will look into it later, but i saw ur tags say he might sing trot or i misunderstood?

ooh hehe so ill respond to ur responses and give my own for the two that we both asked each other.. ur not crazy for wearing jeans to bed but tbh with u i would never!! maybe in the past but i’m very much a get home and put my pajamas on person.. i don’t wear anything other than pajamas in my apartment but i also have a cat and he’s a longhair, he’s very hairy and his hair gets over everything and im weird about having cat hair all over my daytime/going out leaving the house clothes, so i don’t want to wear anything that’ll get dirty/hairy at home and i don’t want to be deterred from cuddling him or picking him up either🤭🤭

as for a medium that i find most touching? your answer was really lovely and makes a lot of sense!! and i think writing and music go hand in hand very well so its cool that both of those are mediums u feel connected to because they compliment each other well i think. i’d have to say writing might be one for me, as well, or poetry but it depends because im not really big into poetry.. like i just don’t read a lot of it but could.. i think i prefer to take in information/learn things through reading/seeing it written down or actually doing it, so i think i connect with writing because of just that, like how my brain works i don’t know.

for orchid, a song that is perfect? i’m trying to think because songs i like usually change a lot, and we talked about this before.. im not super into lyrics? ‘honestly’ by riize sounds soo good to me like just the way it sounds is amazing and i thought that song was so perfect when i heard it for the first time i was like this is incredible i love how this sounds so much… idk🤕🤕

and for palm tree? a fictional character that i love but shouldn’t hehe, im trying to think of a good answer im sure i have one…idk if this counts but.. have u seen do revenge ? it’s like a teen/chick flick thing but it was recent but i really liked it and austin abrams is an actor in it and like.. he’s horrible but like.. i would still fold. like idk what it is about the little guy i want him so bad. every now and then he shows up in a movie i watch and im like oh hi…

i honestly can’t think of a villain rn😭😭 i do love a good feminine revenge story though so like, if a woman is doing things that are really horrible and wrong but it has a deeper purpose that maybe only makes sense to her… i love her<3

also it is hard having an expressive face but the positive is that it usually means ur honest and you don’t hide things from people.. makes sense with being a scorpio though too and having intense emotions and feelings towards things?

and i loveee matcha that sounds really fun if u are able to u should try making drinks at home! i always want to as well but i have a lot of trouble keeping my home clean and organized and so it gets more stressful to do a lot of stuff that requires clean up… idk if im making sense,,, also i dont usually wake up super early for work so i usually just stop for coffee on the way there.

thanks for playing and asking<333 i’m sorry i feel like my answers could be better i’m just still sooo tired from the concerts ive been feeling so sick and only just got home recently :((

- 🥟 anon

I just saw that he was going to debut as a trot singer but I honestly have no idea since I just saw it on TikTok 😭, to be honest I don't care what he does I just want to see him so bad 😭😭😭 he has so much talent, a great voice, dancing skills and such a nice presence, he made me fall in love with him when I saw him those few times with the neos and oh god, I mean, I love the seven, but idk, I guess since he's older he wouldn't have fitted the riize concept, but it'd have been so nice to see him with Eunseok and Hani 😭

I have a cat too! He's not long haired but I totally understand the hair thing, my cat is white and before I leave my house I always clean my clothes with a sticky roll(?) because I also can't stop him, if he wants a hug or rest in my lap how could I 😭, I love him so much even when he's a little piece of shit (he's fucking demanding I swear, a covid cat 🫠)

I'm also not so big in poetry, I have friends that read poetry most of the time but I need a little more to feel the stories 🫠 anyways I think is great that you connect with writing! I also believe that those two (music and writing) are connected, or at least in our cases because I can't imagine myself writing/reading without music, even if I repeat the same song in a loop, I need some feeling 😭

Awww I find it so adorable that one of the songs you consider perfect is from riize, I don't really enjoy honestly because I can't with the lyrics 😭 (not judging of course), but if I had to choose one song from them I think I'd choose memories because I also fell in love with it the second it started, it made me feel like when I was school and I listened to exo between classes, the MV is precious to me and it's simply the song I've repeated the most from riize ever 🩷 (I can't believe that one song did so much for me to even come back to Tumblr and write for a group 😭, I think l my feelings aren't as strong as then, but I still appreciate them a lot!)

I haven't seen that movie but I know the guy! I saw what he did but I can't find him hot as a bad guy if I'm honest, I just saw him in euphoria and thought he was the cutest thing ever 😭(also the bathroom scene... Sorry but the way he came after eating Kat out had me wishing it was me 😭😭😭😭) For that question I also can't think of any villain but I guess it could include Loki and Bucky, those two had me on a chokehold the whole lock down and I didn't care that they were fucking wrong and did really bad things, I just wanted them SO BAD 😭 (oh, I love women taking revenge too, one of my favorite movies ever is promising young woman and I support women in everything they do, rights and wrongs 👩‍🦯)

It could be said that me being expressive is related to honesty but if I'm fr with you I hid a ton of shit when I was younger and I still do so I don't know if that could be applied to me 💔, I show my emotions but I don't think I could be considered a piece of god taking into account that I do lie or manipulate reality into my benefit a lot 😭 (this sounds bad but it's related to my job ☠️), I don't like doing it in my real life anymore but God when I was younger I'd turn my body and tell my parents with a straight voice "oh yeah I was studying" but I would be in another place maybe having brunch with a tinder guy (my parents were pretty strict until lock down 😭), I was a bit out of control when I was younger, but now I'm a new person and mostly do it only at work (also because I'm such a sweet pea right now I don't really have nothing to hide? I haven't gone out on a date for a year already and spend most of my time on my own so I don't know what I would have to lie about 😭)

You're totally making sense, that's also part of my case so that's one of the reasons I usually drink or eat outside, just that in my case is because if I do something for me, I have to do it for everyone, and there's nothing I hate more than having to serve others because I don't only hate to prepare a ton of shit but I also have to clean it up? No thanks ☠️ (well, there goes my dream of being a stay at home wife for a sexy older man like Hugh Jackman or Pedro Pascal...)

Thank you for playing with me my love and please don't worry at all about your answers, they were perfect and I enjoyed reading them a lot! Please take your time to get your energies back, you've had an intense week and you deserve it 🩷🩷🩷

[dreamingclassical]

The 🦄 Herself and some background on her.

I got Blaze July 31st of 2020. Before I even laid eyes on her, the assistant trainer of the facility told me “the mare is wild.” Telling me about how she had taken another mare from the pasture for a lesson and into the main barn. Within 10 minutes Blaze had taken down the gate and climbed up a set of stairs into the hayloft. No clue how she got down the stairs again unharmed. She was very buddy sour obviously. She was born in Canada, she is a Mr. Greeley baby. Raced lightly, retired to breeding, and then had 8-9 foals. At 16, almost 17 she came to the facility I met her at. Sat again for another year. I was looking for a 3-5 year old, not an 18 year old never restarted skinny broodmare.

After seeing her move, and seeing how sweet and anxious she was along with her condition, I was positive I wanted her. Bought for 1k, she was quickly learning to be a riding horse. I made many, many mistakes. I let a trainer ride her in such a manner I could barely watch, multiple times before I put my foot down. Draw reins, strong bits, bungees, terrible saddle fit, etc etc.

It was ugly. I will be repaying Blaze for her kindness for the rest of her life. She jumped everything, up to 4’ on a few occasions. Safe, point and shoot, and fun. She had one bad habit, rearing when put under pressure. The only time she did it, was because I or someone else put her in a position where she felt she had no choice.

She eventually became my liberty and trick horse after I realized how unhappy she really was as a sport horse. Despite looking fantastic, post Lyme treatment #1 but really she wasn’t happy. She wouldn’t stand to be a show horse, and she was impossible to fit a saddle to. I rode her bareback exclusively for almost 2 years of having her due to saddle issues. She was just better off, and eventually I removed the bridle too. She was great in a halter, terrible in a bridle, so why bother? Perfect almost every time. This opened the door for liberty work, where she really shines.

Eventually in May of 2022 she slipped on a grass hill with me, not falling but close. No heat, not lame, we stopped immediately She came up bilaterally lame 2 hours later. I took her to the vet, he told me it was likely L stifle and LF combined but nothing can be done without scans of the joints. I was beyond broke from the (failed) Lyme treatment over 6 months.

My first vet told me that my best option was to turn her out for a year and see what happens. She was managed well on equioxx, but noticeably lame in the trot and canter. So I did that. Finally listening to her, a chronic weaver, stalling just wasn’t for Blaze. Moved her into a literal back yard of a friends. With a run in / walk in stall, goat, and mini horse. Pulled all 4 shoes (hind first and later fronts)

Removed grain from her diet, added good hay and a forage balancer, and waited. It’s been almost 2 years. She’s not 100% sound, I was very much losing hope earlier this year and very much considering euthanizing her. However, I found an amazing vet well versed in Lyme disease and so in January we’ll be pulling a titer to check levels and moving forward with IV tetra from there. Lyme flares tends to make her lameness vary a bit. She is hopeful that we will be able to get her sound and remove her Lyme symptoms. She’s really renewed some hope in me. In the spring when things aren’t muck, I’ll be getting another (this’ll be the 14th lameness exam in 2 years) exam done and likely radiographing her fetlocks and hocks.

That’s it for now though, I’ve ranted long enough. She’s perfect, my best friend, and recently we were told on her good days that we can work on tricks & groundwork again.

Good movement > no movement 💖

We’ll see where we are in a year. 12/24/23 🎄

[detectivestucks]

The Anbu Captain IV

18+ content, Minors do NOT interact

Pairing: Kakashi x F!Reader

Summary: You go on the date with your coworker, Akio, only for a jealous Kakashi to crash it. He not-so-gently reminds you who you belong to.

Warnings: NSFW, Nipple & Sensory play, Oral, Chocking, Biting, Penetration

Word Count: 3.2k

Art Credit: @akirasukuna

Part 3

New here? Check out Part 1

As you got ready for your date you wrestled back and forth with conflicting feelings. Akio was someone you had wanted to go on a date with for a long time. You’d be crazy to turn down the offer. But you knew how hurt he’d be if he found out what or rather who you were doing the second before he mustered up the courage to shoot his shot. You felt worse knowing Kakashi saw the whole exchange. He was so cold, icing out everyone whom he cared about. So why is it bothering you so much? Sure he didn’t allow you to touch or see him, but there was no denying his obsession with you. Is it possible that there are feelings buried beneath his stony surface?

Maybe he doesn’t actually care if I go on this date. He probably is just using me like another one of his weapons, right? Is he even capable of having feelings for me?

You shook your head trying to clear your mind. Despite all of it, you still felt excited about getting to go on a proper date with someone who wasn't shrouded in mystery. This is someone who was wholesome, kind and most importantly, warm.

You chose a long shimmery pink dress that hugged your curves. The fabric on top gathered around your chest giving it a scooped neckline that showed off your cleavage. The dress also had a high slit up to your thigh giving a perfect balance of showing your figure while also looking romantic. You did your hair in loose curls gathered up in a clip behind your head and did neutral makeup with heavy mascara, a shimmery eyeshadow, and a coral lip. On your way out the door you donned matching pink heels and a small clutch purse.

As you locked your door you saw the same dog that had been hanging around your home for weeks was waiting for you. "Hey little guy!" you say as you sink down to pat the top of his head. He trots next to you part of the way before disappearing right as you meet up with your date.

Akio stood there waiting for you in a white fitted button down shirt. He left a few of the top buttons undone so as to expose part of his chest. He wore long black dress slacks, leather dress shoes and a leather belt. You felt a flutter in your stomach at seeing how handsome he was. He stood up straighter as he spotted you. His mouth fell open before stretching into a smile. “You look absolutely stunning”, he praised as he holds out his elbow. You take it, both of your hands lightly grabbing onto his arm as you walk to the restaurant.

You were happy to see how easy it was to talk to him. The conversation was natural and flirty. You had recently done a project together which resulted in many inside jokes. You caught him staring at you several times during the joint venture and couldn’t help but smile back. Now here you were, finally on a date.

You arrived at a beautiful restaurant. He had a reservation for a table outside, knowing how much you enjoy being outdoors. A very old tree with plenty of knots and branches wound its way over the entire patio acting as a canopy. Paper lanterns were strung side to side, illuminating the tables and a lovely koi pond wrapped around the patio, encompassing the dining area . It was the picture of romance and you squeezed his arm to let him know he did an excellent job choosing a place to dine. 

The food was delicious and the conversation equally as pleasant. The guilt you felt earlier today washed away as the two of you laughed, remembering all your jokes and poking fun at the old professor  who misjudged your intelligence early in the project. 

His chair next to yours, he leans over to put his hand on your thigh and gives your cheek a kiss. You smile and blush as he does so. This is how it should be.

“What made you decide to ask me out?” you inquire

“Have you seen yourself?” He asks, almost laughing. “There isn’t a single man with eyes that wouldn’t ask you on a date.” 

Caught off guard you looked at him almost puzzled. You liked the way you looked but didn’t think you were all that. “If that were true, I would’ve been on a lot more dates” you softly joke feeling a little embarrassed.

“Truth be told,” he says, more humble than before, “I've had a crush on you for a while.”

“Really? So why now? What changed?”

“I can’t put my finger on it. There’s just something about the way you’ve carried yourself lately. It’s…irresistible.”

His answer gave you pause. How you wished you went on this date months ago. You wished that you never started seeing Kakashi. You wished this could be your life but the knot in your stomach began to come back.

You excused yourself to go to the bathroom. You grab your clutch to touch up your makeup as you leave to regain your composure. Why am I struggling to enjoy this date? I deserve someone like him. I deserve romance like this. 

In the bathroom, you lean across the sink to view your reflection up close when you see an Anbu mask over your shoulder. Feeling cheeky, trying to hide what you had just been thinking about, you speak into the mirror,

“Last time I checked this was the women's room.”

“Last time I checked you belonged to me.”

His icy voice sends a chill down your spine. “How dare you come here trying to give my pussy to another man. I should go out there and break his arm for putting his hand on your thigh.” You gulp realizing he had been spying on you. He stepped forward standing directly behind you, pushing himself up against your back. Lifting his mask he continues,

“This face is for me” Turning your head, he breathes on your cheek where you had been kissed. 

“These thighs are for me” he says, reaching around you, sinking his fingers into your thighs, scrunching up the front of your dress in his fists. 

Your breathing becomes shallow as you feel his erection pushing between your cheeks. 

His hands release your dress as he wraps one arm around your waist holding you tight. The other reaches up and grasps around your neck pulling your head to the side so that you feel his breath on the curve where your neck and shoulder meet. He gives it a masked kiss. “Remember who you belong to.” He whispers before disappearing. 

Feeling dazed by the intensity of his confrontation, you grip the edge of the sink to steady yourself. You allow your breathing to return to normal before heading back to your date. 

You struggle to return to your carefree demeanor, Kakashi's words swimming in your mind. None the less you push through. You and Akio share a dessert and he walks you home, escorting you all the way to your door. He looks at you expectantly. Unable to meet his gaze, you cast your eyes down. 

"Thank you for an amazing evening." You say

"We should do it again sometime."

"I would like that very much." 

Guilt rips through you. He gave you a perfect evening, a perfect date. It was everything you could have hoped for, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to so much as kiss the man. 

He gives you a peck on the forehead as you say your goodbyes before you enter your dark home.

What is wrong with me?

You drop your clutch with a thud as you open the door to see Kakashi in his Anbu uniform, standing in the middle of the room, red and white mask upon his face. 

"....I thought I made myself clear…you…belong…to me."

You feel yourself tremble at the anger in his voice. 

With each stride forward, you step back until you are flat against the wall next to your door. His hands pushing into it, one placed on either side of your head. You were trapped. 

"Who do you think you are, looking like that while out with another man! Do you have any idea what that does to me?!" he roars.

Continuing to quake at his rage you quietly stutter out "n-no", your voice barely even a whisper.

He takes off his Anbu mask revealing the fury in his eyes.

His sharingan shining bright through the darkness. If you weren't scared before, you sure were now. You knew he was frustrated when he ambushed you in the bathroom but you had no clue how deep his jealousy ran till this very moment.

Had he been an enemy, you wouldn't have thought twice. You would have trusted your instincts and fought back but with Kakashi your body was paralyzed, you felt utterly helpless. 

He pulled in close. His chest heaving as he leans into you. He brought his head next to yours to whisper in your ear, "It seems you need a proper reminder of who your body belongs to and who your cunt aches for."

He slid down his face mask brutally biting your neck. You let out a yelp of pain as he moves his hand off the wall to cover your mouth, muffling your screams as he continues to attack the sensitive skin on your neck and shoulder. Letting out his anger with each bite.

His breath steadies as he pulls down the thin straps of your dress allowing the top to fall around your waist exposing your breasts.

Your nipples stiffen as the cold air hits them. Both of his hands run down your sides then up to your chest. He lightly kisses back up your neck, gingerly pressing his lips into the bruises he just gave you. Tasting the metallic flavor of your blood where his teeth broke your skin. Working his way up to your face, he kisses you softly on the lips as his thumbs play with your nipples. This sudden tenderness was as if a switch had been flipped. He shifted his arms wrapping them around your waist, pulling you into him. A soft moan eliciting from your lips. Butterflies released in your stomach. You sank into the kiss wrapping your own arms around his back pressing your bare chest into him. He picked you up by your thighs wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you over to your bed. 

Gently laying you down, he runs his hand up your thigh along the slit in your dress. His hand creeped underneath the soft fabric. He circled his hand around your check before digging in with his fingertips and running his hand back down your thigh leaving scratch marks in its wake. 

You continued locking your lips around his mouth in the pitch black room disregarding the pain you felt from his scratch. Ravenous yourself, you try to undo his uniform but to no avail. He stands up, letting go of you. You can hear him take off his clothes. You take off your dress as he does so, knowing this will be the first time he is naked with you. Your heart is beating at a thunderous pace. Why did he get your blood boiling like this? You laid yourself back down on the mattress waiting for him. You felt it sink around you as he crawled into the bed positioning himself over you. Your breathing was ragged.

You ran your hands up his arms and into his hair. This time he didn’t swat you away. Your heart was in your throat. He was allowing you to touch him, feel him, lay with him. What changed? 

Every inch of your skin tingles with anticipation. He rolled his hips brushing his length along your front. You moaned and shifted your legs so they were spread outside his knees. You felt him smile while kissing you. 

“You’re anxious for me”

You whine causing his lips to curl. He reaches down, inserting his middle and ring fingers into your needy hole. You start to pant “thank you”

Moving faster and faster he eggs on, “That’s right, thank your captain”

“Thank you capTAIN!” Screaming the last part as he curves his fingers brushing your g spot. The tender moment had passed. Back to his usual abuse, he slides his fingers out and up to your bud, massaging it with your arousal. Heavily rubbing, causing your legs to shake, you feel on the edge of cumming. Sinking his fingers back in, you clamp down on him as you cream on his hand. 

He grabs your face at your cheeks forcing your mouth to open. He shoves his sticky fingers inside, making you clean up the mess you made on them. He pulls out his digits only to replace them with his tongue, tasting you as he sucks your lower lip. “Mmmm” he hums. 

“That’s the good girl I remember” he praises finally letting go of your face.

Pulling back, he grazes his lips against yours, denying your kisses, he glides his length up and down your folds poking your swollen bud aching to be rubbed again. You whine more, needing him to be inside of you. 

“Beg” he demands

“Please fill my poor cunt. It needs you to make it feel so good.”

“More”

“Please please stretch me out and cum in me, Captain. You are the only one who knows how to touch me the way that I like.” You push your pelvis up trying to find his erection. He lets out a chuckle as he bites down on your neck again. You scream but he shuts you up by plunging himself inside of you. Instead your scream is replaced by a guttural groan. He laughs again. “I like it when you’re mouthy.”

Picking up speed you grunt with every thrust as he pushes your organs against your diaphragm. Completely at his mercy, all you can do is cling to his biceps. He feverishly rubs your clit while keeping up his quick pace causing you to squeal as your entire chore tenses up trying to take the stimulation. Just when you think you can’t take anymore you feel yourself release. 

“That’s a new one.” He says with immense satisfaction. You had squirted all over his stomach. “I’m so sorry Captain” you plead. “I didn’t mean to.” He pulls out of you, giving you an instant of relief just to grab you by the hair and force you to lick your slick off of his stomach. Your tongue diving into every crevice of his abdomen. You lick greedily, kissing down his abs to his cock. He shoved your mouth down on him holding the back of your head there while you gagged and gasped for air. Just like he did to you yesterday. You tried shaking your head and pulling back but his fingers gripped your hair tighter and kept you there. When you felt dizzy from the oxygen deprivation he finally let go. Panting as you gulp down fresh air, his sharingan tells him exactly where your limits are. No one else could have pushed you this far. He is the only one who knows exactly how much you can take.

He shoved your shoulders back down and grabbed under your waist resuming his unrelenting pace, slamming into you over and over. Your core tightened again. You felt another release coming. He continued to pound into you. Your legs spasmed as you screamed through your orgasm, once more showering him with arousal. A growl sprang from the back of his throat. Of all the times he had you, defiled you, dominated you, not once had he whipped you into this kind of frenzy. Clearly, you had been holding back on him. 

“Tonight, I cum inside of you” he grunts

You nod, unsure if he can see you in the dark. You had orgasmed so many times you were too dumb to speak. 

His strokes became sloppy as he neared completion. Groaning loudly as he finished, you felt the warmth of his cum fill you up. Seeping into your walls.

He withdrew from your hole, now gaping, and pushed his cum around your folds and rubbed it all over your aching bud causing you to flinch.

He collapsed on top of you letting his leaking tip wet your belly. “Don’t get up.” He instructed, “Let it stay in there.” 

Is he trying to get me pregnant? you think in a panic.

“No other man is allowed in your holes. They are reserved for your Captain.” He softly says as he pets your hair.

You swallow before you exhale, “Yes, Captain”

“Will you be good for me?”

“Yes”

“As your captain, I’m ordering you, do not see Akio again.”

“Yes, Captain”

“My spies are everywhere. I will know if you see him and if you do, the both of you will pay.”

You shivered at this last part. Unsure of how badly he would harm Akio if he flirted the next time you worked on a project together. It’s not as if Kakashi’s a forgiving man. You recently learned about his other nickname “Cold Blooded Kakashi” and despite how good he made your loins feel, that terrified you.

“I am staying with you tonight. At dawn I have to leave on another mission.”

You nod again, still unsure if he can see you. 

He pulled the covers over the both of you, sleeping naked in each other's  arms, leaking his seed all over your silky sheets. 

This morning you were unsure if he was capable of having feelings for you. Now reflecting on today, the wheels in your mind began to turn. He got jealous of Akio when he took me on a date. Tonight he let me touch him, he’s holding me in his sleeping arms, he comes home to me after all of his missions. Is it possible that he is beginning to have feelings for me? And what did he mean by his spies are everywhere? Does he have someone watching me every time he’s away? You couldn’t help but feel there was more to your arrangement than what he let on. Eventually your mind went still as Kakashi’s rhythmic breathing lulled you to sleep. 

When morning came he was gone. You woke up alone as if last night never happened. The only clues were your pink dress on the floor and the dried cum on your inner thighs. 

You signed as you held your sheets up to your chest, covering yourself from the chilly morning temperature. 

You hear a whimper and a paw scratching at the front door. You walk over wrapped in just your sheet, and open it.

“Hey little guy!” You beckon the dog inside as you close the door behind him. He looks up at you with his big puppy eyes. For a moment you think he’s staring at your battered neck. You quickly shake your head, realizing how obtuse it is to think a dog is curious about your hickies.

“Ready for breakfast?” you coo.

Tail wagging in excitement, he follows you as you quickly put on some sweatpants and a sports bra before returning to the kitchen to make a hearty breakfast for two. Mind wandering as you cook, once again completely unsure when Kakashi would be back.

Part 5 Masterlist

[montyywritess]

pet loss. ive already flooded my other socials w this grief so i have nowhere else to put ittt. there's legit nothing happy under the readmore as a warning. sheer vent post. was going to just draft it but i need to TALK about her.

my brain just has broken. it's only been a day so i know the pain is nowhere near over. truthfully, i think i could be in my 50s or 60s and still cry about my baby girl.

i just hate that the waves seem so strong and from nowhere too. i can just be talking about nothing even related to losing my dog, and i'll feel bad for laughing. i'll feel bad for feeling any joy. because it's not TRUE joy. because i know my true happiness was when i was going on walks with her, or cuddling her on the couch. or when she tapped my hand for more attention.

i feel like there's been an injustice, how a dog so loving and sweet had to die. and why did the world have to keep on going without her.

14 years of my life is such a long time when im not even 30 yet. and she's loved me during all of them. quite literally at my worst, she's seen me through it all. and she HAS. she wasn't just a dog that was 'there.' my babs was so observant, so in tune with everything i did. she followed me like a shadow. she knew when i was sad, she knew when i needed cheering up.

when i first moved away from home at 17. every triumph and every low point, she was there.

what's crazy is i didn't even need to train her? for anything. she never once had an accident in the house, until towards the end of her life. i showed her once, pee outside. and she did it ever since. i didn't need to train her on or off a lead. she knew. she just KNEW. she stayed by my side if we went on walks alone. the furthest she'd ever go was a few paces ahead, and then she'd stop to check i was still there. she'd only ever trot away further if i was with other people, but then she'd bound on back to us to make sure we were still together. she never was aggressive in the slightest. she was patient with everybody. as i went on to welcome cats and other dogs into our lives, she SHOWED THEM THE ROPES. she welcomed them too. she taught our other dog lola basically everything too, as we rescued lols from a neglectful situation, she didn't even know how to play with toys, but baby showed her. baby was and is the definition of perfection.

i even remember when she had her head buried in some tall grass, a HUGEE mastiff came running on over to her. she was still sniffing away. and then he said hi by sniffing her butt. she didn't even jump. she slowly lifted her head out of the grass and gave him a ??? look. like he was a peasant disturbing her.

babs absolutely made everybody fall in love with her whoever met her. even people who hate chihuahuas. "i never knew they were like this?" ALL of them said it.

there's only been two times in her life that she showed a mean streak and that was protecting me from people who meant me harm. despite her size, she was willing to hurt herself to save me. obviously i didn't let that happen but the fact she was willing to, meant everything.

she slept with me every night, tucked herself in the crook of my knees and we'd be like book ends. sometimes i'd wake up with her head on my pillow, tucked in the covers like she was a human.

there was something magical about her, that i've never had with any other dog. not even dogs i've owned or fostered. like she'd been on this earth before. so wise and kind.

i have SO many beautiful memories of her i've ordered a huge journal where i will start writing them as they come to me, so they can be remembered forever because i'm terrified of forgetting them.

but now i have one horrible memory that wont leave me and thats of her taking her last breath in my arms. i couldn't stop telling her thank you, and telling her it was okay. but its burned into my brain and i feel sick. i can't sleep because of it. i know that i owed it to her to be there, to make sure she wasn't wondering where i was. because she would have. i owed it to our bond and the 14 years of her always being there for me. but fuck, it's awful.

all of this feels so fucking wrong. i dont think i was supposed to be here without her and now im just stuck. now the rest of my life, she won't be there. it's not fair.

[curestardust]

Dust Watched: Dungeon ni Deai wo Motomeru no wa Machigatteiru Darou ka IV: Shin Shou - Meikyuu-hen | Fuka Shou - Yakusai-hen

Genres: Action, Adventure, Fantasy, Non-Isekai with Isekai rules // 22 episodes //  S01 (x) | S02 (x) | S03 (x) | Alt (x) | M01 (x)

Well. colour me surprised (a bit)!

✧  story  ✧

Danmachi Season 4 got split into 2 but as they’re all just one long story I’ll be reviewing it as one and instead focus on the arcs. Also spoilers.

The first arc is pretty run of the mill boring stuff I usually expect. Bell, his Familia and some others form a party to go to the lower floors for the first time. Their first mishap is some odd moss monster aka Moss Huge. Bell gets split off from the group, meets the Waifu-of-the-Season who’s a mermaid Xenos with super-effective healing blood. He then trots his way back to his party who’re in a desperate battle agaisnt the Moss Huge, unlocks a new power and sends it to the shadow realm. 

Most annoying of all, besides the forced waifu introduction, was the powercreep. They have Aisha with them, her and Bell being the only Level 4s in the party. Well, while Bell is gone, Haruhime casts her level-up spell on Aisha, making her a Level 5... which is completely ignored by the plot. Lame.

Anyway, onto Arc 2 where things get a bit spicier. Ryuu makes an appearance as she is chasing after the last remaining member of the Evilus (yes, EVILus) Familia who slaughtered her Familia. This dude, Jura, with the help of his lackies manages to summon the monster that was the actual cause of it. An almost undefeatable, insanely deadly Irregular spawned by the Dungeon itself when it feels threatened, the Juggernaut. THIS thing was a TREAT. The very first monster that actually managed to pose a threat to the protagonist!! Insane!! It actually slices off Bell’s arm and almost snaps his neck in half but alas, this is where our mermaid waifu makes her appearance once again and literally just fuses back his arm. FUCK! We were *this* close to perfection. Khm, anyway. Bell comes back, him and Ryuu fight the bitch then when all seems lost they get swallowed by a Lambton which is just a giant snake.

This is where season 1 ends. It was... meh. Standard fair in the beginning, shows some promise near the end. I was almost enjoying it but then Bell got his arm back which was lame. Ryuu’s past and actions also got completely flipped on its head when Jura reveals how her Familia *actually* died (more in that in the character section). Thankfully this gets addressed in the 2nd season, though.

Onto Arc 3, which is by far the best in probably the entirety of Danmachi in my opinion. Now, considering that I hated all previous seasons that doesn’t say much but for real, it was pretty good.

The focus is split into 2. The Lambton barrels down all the way to the Deep Floors (10 levels down) where Bell and Ryuu finally get out of it. Meanwhile, the rest of Bell’s party is back on Floor 25 where they have no idea what’s going on as they never saw the Juggernaut, only know that the Dungeon is freaking out. 

Here comes the accidentally best part of the anime; Bell’s harem has been left alone without him coming to help them thus giving them screentime and finally letting them show that they ARE badass even without the plot-armoured main character. The Floor Boss actually spawns ahead of time and as all exists are blocked off, the small team has to fight for their lives against it. In the episodes where this is going on we occasionally get glimpses at Bell and Ryuu in the Deep Floors but those are usually only a few minutes before we get back to the Action. Similarly, as things quiet down with this group we slowly switch focus to the other two and soon stick to only following them.

This part was honestly... great? The side-characters finally getting screentime, Bell actually shitting his pants for once and Ryuu keeping him from falling apart while not only having to deal with the Juggernaut itself but Floor 37′s monsters.

Story-wise, keeping everything inside the dungeon was a 10/10 decision.

✧  characters  ✧

Again, seeing Bell actually losing it was good to see. As was seeing his harem fight without him, although they kept talking or thinking about Bell constantly which was a bit annoying. “Do NOT let the viewers forget for a second who the most important character in this anime is, even when he is not on screen!!!!” is what I imagine the writer thought.

Delving into Ryuu’s backstory more, I was initially a bit scared. What we have been told all this time was that another Familia killed hers, the Astraea Familia, and thus she went on a “righteous” rampage and murdered them in revenge.

However, we have now been told that in fact.... it was an accident? The Astraea Familia and the Evilus Familia have been constantly fighting for a long time and during one of these encounters in the Dungeon, the Evilus blow up so much of the place that they ACCIDENTALLY summon the Juggernaut. The existence of this creature is a Top Secret, so no, it wasn’t planned. The Juggernaut then proceeds to not only murder the Astraea Familia but the OTHER ONE AS WELL with only Ryuu and Jura escaping from it.

?????????? Well, this certainly changes things. However... However! Despite me thinking that the writer was gonna brush off the implications of the truth, how much this can alter the viewers’ perception of Ryuu, they didn’t. Through her, we get acknowledgment that she really is not righteous who slaughtered the Evilus Familia for justice. She... wanted to die. And was hoping to bring as many people who had even the slightest bit to do with her misery with her to the grave. But she survived. And this whole time she thought she has lost who she was, that she didn’t deserve to live, and deep down was hoping to meet her end defending someone because she couldn’t defend her Familia.

Ryuu would’ve been great of course, and was for the majority of the Season but it was like the writer remembered at the last second that each season needed a waifu for Bell and as these 2 were the only ones together... sigh. Well, now she also wants to ride his dick. *eye roll* 

Small things I wanted to mention but don’t feel like getting too deep into: Cassandra’s God is an asshole for not telling everyone that her visions are actually true and making not only them but Cassandra herself doubt everything.

Jura was the most run-of-the-mill, screeching, evil-laughing, basic-ass villain I’ve seen in a while. Good thing the monster took him out. Juggernaut my beloved <3.

Lack of Hestia was great, I really can’t put up with her jealous antics. Lili is plenty by herself, jesus christ. 

New mermaid waifu got shifted, she was literally introcuded as a deus-ex-machina. The Xenos are still insanely boring btw.

✧  art  ✧

Fight scenes get big focus (especially the ones involving Bell, but 2nd season puts effort into his team’s too). The environment design was pretty nice but the monsters quite cliché. It’s a bit hard to see much in the Deep Floors but it adds to the atmosphere so *shrug*.

✧  sound ✧

OP’s immediately went on my Spotify playlist. The VA’s (especially Ryuu’s) were great (but Bell had a very funny scream when his arm got cut off hahahaha).

✧  overview ✧

Ryuu is great, please let Bell actually lose a limb or smth next time, and I’m forver missing the Juggernaut who made my dreams come true (actually posed a threat to MC).

My Rating: 5/10 | 7/10

[cryptdove]

hate how fucking weird my relationship w my parents is

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

505- S.G ROGERS

Pairing: SteveRogers x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1548

Summary: You and Steve are going back to 505.. except the room only has one bed. This would be fine on normal circumstances right? Except one thing.. you cannot stand Steve's guts. At least thats what you keep telling yourself.

Warnings: name calling, swearing, pet names, kissing, enemies to lovers, feelings get confessed 

Note** ive never wrote an enemies to lovers fic so lord have mercy i apologise if its bad and rushed. i kinda made it as if they've both had feeling for each other but have been pushing it down for a LONGGG time. enjoy!

-claire 

“I’m so sorry sir, you must be mistaken, this room only has one bed!” 

The front lady’s solemn voice rang through your head like a church bell as you trudged up the concrete staircase to floor 5. Your black duffel bag was slugged across your shoulder as you huffed up another flight of stairs impatiently.

  One bed my fucking ass. Fuck you Tony!, you thought, already irked from the mission. 

Having to share the bed with Steve fucking Rogers was not making your mood any better. The golden boy trotted ahead of you, barely breaking a sweat as he jogged up the stairs with ease. God, you despised him. You had hated him ever since you had joined the Avengers.

  Oh look at Steve he’s so perfect! Oh look at Steve he’s so handsome and so good! I bet he helps old ladies walk across the street any chance he possibly can! Blugh. His goodie two shoes attitude and perfect ass did not fool you.

“ Are you coming anytime, Agent?” 

The blonde looked down over the railing at you, eyebrow raised, his gruff voice breaking you out of your thoughts. You stopped and looked up at him, giving him the death glare. His ocean blue eyes shot lasers right back at you.

 “ Was planning on it, Rogers. Think you could help me up the stairs like you do them little old lads?” you grumbled and he rolled his eyes. “ There’s no need for the sass agent Y/L/N” he taunted as you rounded the corner, huffing. 

Steve opened the door leading to the hallway and nodded his head. “ Ladies first.” You rolled your eyes as you stepped into the dim hallway, the plush velvet carpet feeling better on your extremely sore feet. (Note to self! Do not wear high-heeled black boots on a mission. It looks badass but KILLS.) 

Steve tossed you the key and the two of you made your way towards your room. Room 505. It was dead silent along the corridor, the sound of your boots clicking echoed off the walls. Steve sauntered beside you, his presence so close to you made you itch.  Finally, you and Steve had reached your room at the very end of the hall. As you swiped the key, the light showed red. You swiped again, getting more and more pissed off by the second. Red.

 “ God! Stupid fucking key.” You growled impatiently, and Steve snatched the key from your hands with a start. 

 “ Language.”

 He swiped the card and green reflected back at him. As he swung the door open with a creak there was only one thing on your mind. I wish I could shove that shield where the sun don’t fuckin shine.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The image that stared back at you was horrendous. Your hair was tangled, lipstick smudged and eyes glassy. A cut was sliced against your cheek, and you noticed purple and blue bruises starting to form across your body. You were a mess. It may not have appeared so, but the mission was a success. You and Steve had got into a HYDRA base and had downloaded the information Tony needed on a USB stick. 

It wasn't smooth sailing, but somehow you managed to come out alive. Just not in top shape. The water was hot and felt refreshing as you rinsed yourself off and washed your hair. You let the water fall as you leaned against the shower wall, feeling the tears starting to leak.

 Everything had been eating at you lately and it was getting to the point where you couldn’t handle it much longer. The stress of this job was something you were expecting, but you didn’t realise just HOW much stress. Tony sent you on mission after mission, and after each one you felt yourself deteriorating a little more. 

The water mixed with your tears as you covered your hands over your mouth to stifle back the sobs.

 If Steve heard you… you didn't even want to think about it. 

Cool air hit you as you turned off the water and stepped out on the white tile. Grabbing a towel, you shivered. And that's when you realised. Your pyjamas were out in the main room. With Steve. Shit shit SHIT! You took a deep breath and creaked open the door. “ Steve?” you mumbled quietly.      

 “ Y/N?” His voice sounded confused and you prayed he wouldn't turn the corner. “ I- Um, I forgot my pjs out here and I’m in my towel. Do you mind turning around or something?” 

He chuckled as you rolled your eyes. God you wanted to strangle him.

 “ Course.” 

You peeked around the corner, and there he was, facing the window. You scurried to your pjs on the bed and ran back to the bathroom, slamming the door shut, letting out a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“ I can sleep on the floor.” You whisper as Steve untucks the covers and adjusts the pillows. 

“ Don't be silly.” He huffs, meeting your eyes with a glare.  

  “ Get in. I don't bite.” 

“Steve I swear it's okay-” 

“ Get. In.” Your eyes widen at his authoritative tone and you'd be lying if you said you didn't get a LITTLE flustered. You swallow and begin to climb into bed hastily. 

“ Can I turn out the light?” You hinted and Steve nodded curtly. Click. The two of you were enveloped in dark, minus the faint green 1:46am glaring at you from the bedside table. Dead silence lingers in the air. Minutes upon minutes go by and you’re too scared to move. You really should have slept on the floor. You cannot stand this man, so what on earth were you doing? Well, it’s not like you hated him. You just envied him. Your best coping mechanism was to become distant and cold, making him think you hated him. And if you told yourself you hated him enough maybe you truly would. You hated him. There. You thought it loud and clear. But he wasn’t all that bad was he? He was beautiful and smart and caring and funny and god he smelled so good right now... Y/N SNAP OUT OF IT!! You thought, shaking your head as if it would take away any positive thoughts you had about the man. 

Maybe if you pushed them super deep down and didn’t speak to him for the rest of well... forever, he’d take the hint.

  You shuffle around to attempt to get comfortable when a gravelly voice breaks you out of your trance. “ Y/N?” 

Well, there goes that plan. 

“ Steve?” you question. “ Why were you crying?” Your eyes snap open and you freeze. Fuck. Super soldier hearing. “ I don't know what you’re talking about.”

 “ Don't play dumb with me girl.” 

His hand brushes against your shoulder and you turn to face him, feeling his warm breath flutter against your eyelashes. “ Why do you care?” you sneer, not wanting Steve to know any more than he needed to.      

 “ Because even though you hate me, I care.” 

It went so quiet you could hear a pin drop. “ Why do you hate me?” He whispers, and you pull the sheets higher, attempting to hide yourself.

 “ Because you're everything I'm not.”

 “Y/N-”

 “ No. Don't start. You are everything I want to be Steve. And it kills me to know I can’t ever achieve that. You can do nothing wrong, you’re smart, sweet, and god I’ll admit you’re fucking handsome too. You're perfect and I could never compete with that. I'm in the background, the person no one cares about. It kills me, Steve. It kills me to see you all perfect and pretty and to see everyone love you. I can never do as good as you and I'll never be enough-” 

Your voice cracked and a sob escaped your lips. Steve wrapped his arms around you and brought you close to his chest as sobs racked your body. It was all coming out. Everything you wanted to hide from him, everything you wanted to push down- it came back up. 

You had never felt so vulnerable in your life. Steve brought his hand to pet your hair soothingly as you continued to let the tears fall. “ Shhh it's okay sweet girl let it out.” He whispered and held you closer. “ I'm so sorry I-” 

  “ Do not apologise. Please.” You met his eyes and he wiped the tears from your cheeks as you sniffled. “ Can I kiss you?” he asked hesitantly.

 “ What?” You froze.

 Steve Rogers wanted to kiss you? After everything you just told him? 

“ I said can I kiss y-” You leaned closer to him and kissed him passionately, rolling on top of him and running your fingers through his hair. His lips were soft and he tasted like butterscotch. You felt as if you were floating as if you were on cloud nine. “ You are perfect Y/N. You are more than enough.” He whispered softly, as you placed your forehead onto yours.

 And at that moment you knew that Steve Rogers was not in fact, your enemy. You were your own enemy. With that, you'd decided, that he would help you defeat the negative thoughts that clawed at your brain every waking second. You felt safe. Loved. And perfect.

[yanderemommabean]

I did indeed XD I love eddie. Maybe for dryder eddie, what if hes watching (stalking) them as they take their normal route home and he discovers that his perfect bride loves to sing (they are singing with some headphones on as they go home) would he take this chance while they are distracted to take the bride? And while holding them captive try to make them sing again

Watching his cute little human on their route home was always a mix of calming and entertaining. What would you wear today? Where were you headed now? Would you be smiling or still rubbing the sleep from your eyes? So many possibilities that make his chest warm and his possessive tendencies grow.

It’s been a few months, he’s seen just about everything about you on your little errands and work schedule. Early morning you was more than happy to go home and sleep the day away, and if you ever appeared at night you seemed a bit more lively, although he didn’t like the fact you were out and about when the sun was setting. Don’t you know the dangers of this area? It’s a good thing he’s around to keep an eye on you. He couldn’t expect a little human like you to defend yourself properly.

Today was one of the easier going days. He could tell as you had more bounce in your step and more brightness in your eyes, flicking through your phone as you played your music. Usually you would hum him a gentle tune and seduce him with your melodic whispers, but today you felt that you should be louder, more pronounced in the songs you sing.

Eddies attention once again is all on you. His eyes stalk you with a molten gaze, feeling his blood warm at the newest sounds you made for him. Beautiful, breathtaking notes leaving your lips were once again entrancing him and causing his love for you to grow even more. Surely you can’t expect him to handle all of this teasing forever darling, you should know what you are capable of doing to him!

He couldn’t stop himself. His legs moved before his mind could think, and before he knew it, he was pressed right behind you, jaw inches away from your pretty little throat begging to be marked. Drool was cascading down his chin and neck as he watched your body tense up at his presence, aware that you were not alone in these woods.

“Dont stop-“ he snarled out, watching the color drain from your face as you gasped and struggled to make any other noise. Are you shy? No need to be love! It’s just you and him in these forbidden woodlands, let him hear more of you! He corners you with quick motions of his legs, hovering over your body with a predatory gaze. “-I love hearing you. Continue. I want to hear all you can give me”.

Singing isn’t exactly what you had in mind when you saw the creature before you. The only noise able to come out of your mouth is a scream of horror as you cover your body defensively, begging for your life as the beast leans closer to you.

“Why are you screaming love? I promise I don’t sense any danger around. You must be scared of the shadows here-“ he deduced, looking around and not seeing why his little human was so petrified. “-not to worry! If home is where you feel safest, I’ll take you. But you do have to do me a favor when we arrive”.

You kick and scratch at the attacker, only to receive a chuckle and scolding expression in response. Your attack had done nothing but entertained the creature, who was now wrapping you up in his sticky, robust webbing. “Cute. I do love it when we play fight, but we have to settle down now darling. You can make more pretty noises for me at home, I promise you that”.

He begins to trot off towards his nest with you bundled up in his arms, body completely pressed and cocooned in the substance like a mummy. Your strength was being wasted on wriggling and writhing, to no avail. That monsters web was stronger than you gave it credit, and you payed for that with your energy to fight.

“I’m so happy we finally decided to nest together “ Eddie said with a dreamy sigh “Ive waited so long to have you as mine. And now that you’re here, it’s a dream come true! Don’t you think?” He asked.

You tremble as he hooks you up to the larger web, face to face with him. His eyes were crazed, absolutely unhinged as he secured you to your new home. “Oh you’ll be so happy here! We can make all sorts of music together! And you can sing for me until the sun sets everyday. Doesnt that sound amazing darling?”.

Eddie finally has his little human in his arms, and hearing their voice will now no longer be something he has to wait for everyday.

You’ll be making those pretty sounds with him forever.

-Mommabean

[beigehearts]

BRO IVE BEEN WAITING FOR A POLY ASK: AND A YANDERE ONE??? THIS IS A GOLD MINE Thank you so much butterscotch princess😭

CW: mental/physical abuse, kidnap, fighting

Of course you love the both of them, if not you wouldn't be here. Or at least you did love them. They were a couple and you weren't particularly interested in being a home wrecker. Yet, you can't hide anything from these two, they're definitely not stupid. To be honest things were becoming stale for Hisoka, and that's when they invited you into their relationship. Everything seemed so perfect at first, two men that you loved dearly who provided a balanced life. You could go to Hisoka for something exciting and new, but sit down with Illumi and relax. The three of you made a power throuple. But if it seems like it is too good to be true, it is. It really was too good.

It had been a few months into the relationship when there were red flags. Illumi and Hisoka never fought for each other, they never had to. You made sure they had their own time with each other. It was when it came to you that there was a problem. Constant arguing and fights over who gets to spend time with you and enjoy your company. Your idea of all of you hanging out was shut down, they each wanted their alone time with you. It went on like this for a few months. Until one day, it all stopped.

Suddenly it seemed as if your boyfriends had never fought in the first place. They never argued over spending time with you, they just knew when they could be with you one on one. At first you thought it was great. You were worried about their relationship for one another, and if it would last much longer like this. They must have talked about it civilly, otherwise it couldn't be so easy for them.

All of the red flags had been lowered and it was back to the honeymoon phase. The three of you got to cuddle at night while you could still have coffee with just one of them in the morning, or they could together. Honestly you weren't so sure about a polyamorous relationship in the beginning, but now you wouldn't change it for the world. Well, at that time you wouldn't have.

Suddenly the atmosphere changed, and you did not see it coming. Whenever you planned to go out, Hisoka and Illumi seemed to be on the same page about you not leaving. ----

"Hey, I'm gonna go hang out with some friends, I'll see you guys later!" You called out as you tied your shoes.

Illumi began taking off your coat and now you were very confused. "You shouldn't go out." He stated.

Hisoka chimed in from the kitchen while he made coffee, "It's going to rain, we don't want you to get caught in a storm."

"I'll just bring an umbrella, and anyway, Daisy will just drive me home." You responded.

Illumi shook his head and hung up your coat, "The news said it would be really bad today."

Hisoka added, "You guys may not even be able to drive in that kind of rain."

---- Everytime it went like this, there was always an excuse. It even got so bad that you were fired from your job. You spend every day at home now. Any time you even mention leaving anymore now, it isn't just excuses. "You won't be able to protect yourself." "Fine, if you get hurt it's your fault." "You can't apply to another job, you really think you can get another one after being fired?" Always something, and it's really starting to get to you. Soon enough it only escalated at it had been. You got dressed to leave and ignored their excuses, opening the door and stepping out. That's when it happened, that's when everything really changed. As you went to shut the door behind yourself, it slammed shut. It slammed shut right on your fingers.

Illumi came out and carried you back inside while you gasped and cradled your hand to your chest. "This is what happens when you don't listen to us. You'll get hurt." That's when you realized how bad things really had gotten. You were pretty sure that three of your fingers were broken, but Illumi wrapped them up with a splint and called it a day.

You just can't do this anymore. If they aren't going to let you leave, then you're going to have to sneak out. Or devise a plan. Of course Hisoka went through your messages, but that would be perfect for your plan. You managed to create a text chain with your 'sick older sister'. She asked that you come to see her ASAP because she is not doing well. This is something that they would allow you to do since it would be a one time thing.

As you laced your shoes and shrugged on a jacket, Hisoka and Illumi watched. Hisoka's hand was wrapped around Illumi's waist, and you could see his anxious grip on him.

"Okay, I'll be back at 4 pm." You had learned to lie through your teeth like a pro.

Hisoka forced a smile and nodded, "Illumi will be there to pick you up."

You give the both of them a quick kiss on the cheek and trot out of the door while waving. "See you soon!"

The sound of the door clicking closed behind you was the sound of jail break. You couldn't help it... You skipped down the hallway while giggling, until your skip turned into a run. And when you turned around? No one was there.

----

Killua and Gon were a god send. They accepted you as a person and your friendship became unbreakable. Each day when you woke up, you were excited to face the day. Most of your free time is spent with these two goof balls. If not with them, you're working.

They swung by your workplace when your shift ended so you guys could hangout. While these two are younger than you, they're very mature. Sometimes. And all of their friends are your friends, Kurapika and Leorio who are closer to your age. You would hang out with them too if it weren't for the fact they were always out of town for work.

The three of you make your way to the convenience store. Killua had been begging for the past two days that you guys go get Choco Robots.

Gon checks his phone and announces, "Kurapika and Leorio will be back tomorrow! Leorio said they got a hotel room for the night and would be back to travelling by tomorrow."

You and Killua know that means they're sharing a bed, but Gon is oblivious. And it's really not important for Gon to know at the moment.

Killua throws his arms in the air and yawns, "You always get off work so late. Why can't you work any earlier?"

"Tell that to my manager, she's the one in control of that." You retort.

An idea pops into Gon's head and you can tell because his eyes light up. "Instead of going all the way home, you should sleep over with us tonight! Alluka would love to see you again!"

"You know that her place is closer to us right now than ours, right?" Killua asks.

Gon's eyebrows furrow and he puts a finger to his lip, "Oh yeah..."

The convenience store's doors slide open and make a quiet 'ding' sound. Killua makes a bee line for the Choco Robots and begins putting the whole stock into a basket. You and Gon look at the drinks section and he settles on some strawberry lemonade. Besides the sleeping cashier, you three are the only ones perusing through the gas station sized mart.

Gon is pointing out the condoms and asking what they are when the soft 'ding' of the door sounds out. Killua is blushing and telling him to put the box back while you hold back laughter.

"Gon! Stop it! Just- just put them back!" He stutters out. They may have seemed mature for their age at first, but moments like this make you question it.

You feel a hot breath on the back of your neck and the voice to follow shakes you to your core.

"So this is where you've been hiding."

You whip around and push Hisoka away from you, it doesn't do anything but he does step back. Next to him is Illumi, eyeing not only you but his little brother. You knew they were brothers because Killua told you, but you never expected to see them in the same room together.

Killua's eyes go wide and Gon is already in a defensive position.

Ilumi takes his attention away from Killua and he leers at you instead. "That was a long trip to the hospital. Did you get lost leaving the building?"

"Hey! Why don't you just leave y/n alone?!" Gon barks at them.

It all happens in seconds, if you had blinked you would have missed it. Killua is slammed into the floor and his head makes a hard 'clunk' sound. Before Gon has the chance to attack, he's throw into a display rack, and tumbles to the ground. Killua is too dazed to react. Hisoka makes sure Gon can't get back up by stomping on his stomach, making him cough up blood.

Your last moment of freedom is spent by watching your friends be beat up. A cloth is pressed against your mouth and nose, and your arms are held behind your back. It smells heavily like cleaning supplies, potent ones. It takes a few breaths before you get dizzy, and until you begin losing control of your body. Hisoka is bent down in front of you and he places a kiss to your forehead.

You wish you knew what he said, but you've already succumbed to unconsciousness. Your freedom is relinquished once again.