#just as coherent as a human just as thoughtful and deep as a human

[jsprnt]

as the saying goes: with every high, comes a low

kenan yıldız x reader

A/N: writing this brought back both good memories and ptsd from the euros 🥲🥲 based on this request, thank you for requesting 🤍🤍 also this is so sappyyy, guess who’s in her feels? 😛

W/C: 1.090

ninety minutes of straight-up torture.

a small fifteen-minute break to calm your pounding heart down, before it starts heavily thumping against your rib cage again.

you wouldn’t be surprised if you dropped onto the floor due to the amount of times your heart rate had skyrocketed.

anxiety and anticipation.

the only words that could describe your mental state in the moment.

losing a match was painful, but even more painful after turkey had been doing so well in the tournament.

as the partner of a football player, you carried your own sadness, and your boyfriend’s sadness.

you bite your lip when the referee ends the match. enough to draw a small amount of blood. the metallic taste fills your mouth, and makes you feel even more horrible.

the chants of the turkey supporters had been non-stop since the start of the game. at first full of joy, then encouragement, then slowly trailing off to tears and disappointment.

even so, everyone had an incredible sense of pride in their hearts for their country. no matter the loss.

when you're given the go-ahead, all family members and friends of the turkey players make their way out of their seats.

you hurry as you go down, your heart aching as you imagine all of the disappointment and anger brewing in your lover’s heart.

when you finally reach him, kenan immediately pulls you into a private room. without a word, his arms wrap around your back, and he buries his handsome face in the crook of your neck.

feeling his breath hit your skin, you sigh shakily. not caring about his sweaty hair and body, you reach up to run your hand down his back.

"are you okay?"

of course, he wasn't, but you could barely register how fast the team had lost control of the match. let alone form a coherent, comforting thought.

you rake your unoccupied hand through his hair, your heart beating in your ears as you try to find the words to comfort your boyfriend.

though, his lack of response told you enough.

after a long stretch of silence, you start spilling your thoughts. licking your dry lips before speaking.

"I'm so fucking proud of you, kenan.."

the words leave your mouth with deep emotion. followed by a tremble of your lip as you try to keep your tears at bay.

"whatever people say, whatever anyone says doesn't matter. you worked so fucking hard, you put your entire soul and body into it. that's what matters. you tried, and I know you did your best.."

you pause as a shaky sigh leaves kenan's mouth. his athletic body pressing into yours, the smell of sweat, notes of his musky cologne, and your perfume creating a familiar atmosphere.

your heart breaks when you hear a small sniffle. your eyes closing as you hold back your own tears.

"you can cry. it's okay, cry it out. I know it hurts, baby.." you whisper, finally feeling hot tears hit your own cheeks, as his transfer down your neck.

"I worked so hard. so many nights and days- and this is the performance I put on when my team, and my entire country is leaning on me!.."

"shh, don't blame yourself, honey. I know it will sound cliché, but you did your absolute best. you can’t do more than your best, baby..”

you pause to pat his back, tears messing up your makeup, and making your nose run.

"it was going so well, you guys created so many chances. it was just an unlucky second half.."

"to have something in the palm of my hand, and then to just lose it within twenty minutes- hurts so fucking bad.." his shoulders shake with the painful sobs. the emotion expressed by your boyfriend causing a soft whimper to leave your own mouth.

"never ever think that the entire thing was on you. It was destined to be like this. as humans, we will learn and grow, even if we don’t see immediate results.."

kenan moves his head to look at you, your heart practically cracking at the sadness on his face.

the hopeless look in his beautiful brown eyes, the irritation of his soft skin- and the fastened pace of his pulse.

"why are you crying?" he asks, and you can swear he starts crying harder after seeing the tears on your face.

"because, you're hurting. don't ever want you to feel bad or upset.." your voice cracks, and you tighten your grip on the fabric of his training jacket.

"fuck. don't you ever cry over me, baby.." kenan rasps, cupping your cheek with his roughened palm. both your eyes visibly red and irritated from the salty tears.

"how can I not?" you question, before pulling his head into your neck again. cradling the back of his head, as you hug each other as tightly as humanly possible.

"i love you so much. your joy is mine. so how can your hurt not be mine?" you ask, raking your fingers through his hair.

"i love you too. so bad it kills me to see you cry over me.." he chokes out, his fingers curling around your body, holding you incredibly close against his warm skin.

you hold each other for a couple of minutes, the only sound in the room being the cold air conditioning, and the sound of your combined sobs.

you can hear kenan take a deep, stuttering breath, before he speaks.

"we’re such crybabies.."

his voice is raw, but thick with fondness and warmth..

your lover always knew how to lighten up the mood, while others could never do so in similar situations.

you chuckle a little through tears, pulling back to look at him. you raise your hand to wipe the tears on kenan's cheeks, his bloodshot eyes on yours.

pushing back his hair, you expose his forehead, wiping away the rest of the moisture with your sleeve.

"your eyes are all red.." you comment, knowing you probably looked the exact same.

"what do you need when we get back to the hotel? a bath? a cuddle? good food?" you inquire, wanting to provide him the best comfort you could offer.

you watch him take a breath before he speaks, and he whips out a tissue from his pocket, before dabbing at the tears on your face.

he was so gentle and thoughtful, like always.

"I just need you. I just need my sweet baby next to me, and everything will be alright.."

[emptyspaaace]

This is so far removed from reality it’s insane. Joseph Fink I’m sorry I love you but you’re wrong on this one. The Turing Test specifically precludes the idea of proving the ai is sentient because we cannot prove EACHOTHER to be sentient, which is something that bigoted people have always used to justify their bigotry and to treat other people as “less”- either in intellect or spiritually, saying other groups are cognitively impaired or lack a soul. The Turing test is designed specifically to avoid creating yet another marginalised group with our own hands. It has nothing to do with personifying objects and has everything to do with objectifying persons. Don’t you dare forget for a second that Alan Turing was a gay autistic man. Ideally the human proctor of the Turing test would be trained in psychology and other relevant fields to look for obvious signs of say, lack of self awareness, like being polite and articulate is not all you need to pass a Turing test. There’s no fucking way that anything we have right now could pass it but the test is not the problem. The test is absolutely not the problem.

[sleepyyghostt]

any time i remember that trump supporters are in any way associated with christianity i feel fcking insane

[mycological-mariner]

Up thinking about the Levant Mine Disaster. Jesus Christ

[giantsinthemist]

Coming live from this morning’s thought life..

(on a youtube podcast that’s not about protein, meat, or bioavailability )

“And that’s exactly it!”

turn cuts to directly facing the camera

“so you know how we talk a lot about bioavailable protein on this channel, and the best quality sources are meat

—well I’m here to tell you about eggs.

Not only are eggs a better protein source than meat, but cheaper and vegetarian!

That’s why our sponsor is […]!”

[rubysparx]

Honestly I don't think I'm qualified to make this post, I just don't know if I can make coherent enough words man. But the thoughts are in there and I will try to articulate them. This is probably going to be mostly images though. anyway yeah KABRU POST.

A couple nights ago (at approximately 2:30am, lasting a little over half an hour) I had a bit of a moment about Kabru. That, too, was mostly images- most of what you see in this more concise post were presented then as well. I think my main points of the "moment" were about Kabru's trauma + self hatred, his autism and/or general otherness, and also a little labru if you'd like..

I think something easy to start with is I wanna point out Kabru's constant back and forth and conflicting opinions of demihumans and how, I believe, thats a reflection of how he goes back and forth on what he believes his purpose of living is- and the general worth of his own life. I've said it before and i've just kinda shown it in images; Kabru is "i think im a monster and it disgusts me" where Laios is "I know im a human and it disgusts me" (i could go more into the latter on another post)

the above are both from the world bible, with the left being from the section on kobolds and the right being from the section on Kuro specifically. Utaya was very near to the desert where most of the kobold population is, this is likely why Kabru is able to speak Kuro's language- he grew up around demihumans. (chapter 48 cover, kobold chapter in the world bible) I won't try to speak for how his mother or the rest of utaya felt about the kobolds but I can say that Kabru was very much othered as a child, as was his mother, purely for the way her son's (kabru) eyes looked.

I feel like its fair enough to say that both kabru and the kobolds were othered, and possibly for similar reasons (villager's seeing them as nonhuman, as monsters) and the fact that Kabru learned their language probably didn't help his case. I think his perception of kobolds (and all demihumans, subsequently himself, as he probably still views himself as nonhuman or not human enough.. deep down) was damaged by the Utaya incident. at 2:30am when I first started this ramble my main comment was that "had the utaya incident not happened kabru would have little reason to feel ashamed for his connection to monsters. and may have ended up similar to laios in that he couldve had otherkin swag" which is just a sort of silly way of saying Kabru could've learned to love the thought that he is possibly nonhuman or at least not hated himself so much for it.

in the original ramble I said, and quote, "he has been STALKING laios. laios is his hyperfixation to learn how he can ever be loved. he keeps going back and forth so harshly on wether or not he wants to kill Laios and he clearly sees his survival from utaya not as an unfortunate trauma [*] but as a necessary, deserved fate. a punishment for his mother's witchy sins, and for his sin of being non-human. to atone for it all, to apologize for being alive, he tries to better the lives of all humanity. He was set on his way to dethrone the governor of the island . do you understand? im going insane" *i also said somethings about the way he processes other people's traumas and not his own. He's able to understand and even help some people, but he struggles to process his own issues and see himself as worthy of love and life.

^some examples of Kabru being understanding of or helping others who have suffered greatly. I think its also worth mentioning that with Rin (called "Lynn" in that translation) he says "I wish there was a way to get her out of this" though he's insisted and pushed for himself to go into a dungeon;

In chapter 94, Mithrun says "The desire I had left wasn't revenge. All I wanted.. was for it to finish devouring me." and I don't feel like it's a stretch to say Kabru was in a similar situation. Mithrun sought out the demon with no plan on how to kill something like that because deep down he wanted it to end his (Mithrun's) own life, to finish the trauma it caused and kill him. I think Kabru went into the dungeon in part with the hopes that it'd kill him. That the same thing that destroyed Utaya and caused him so much trauma would just.. finish him.

I just think Kabru is a beautifully complex character, I have a lotta thoughts on him and I don't see nearly as many analysis posts for him than I do Laios (despite labru being such a popular ship)

there is no tldr for this post idk how to summarize it. do what you will with this collection of images. have fun. go crazy

fun fact the woman in the bottom left corner is his mother, she is labeled here as "witch"

[ilylovelyz]

⍣ ೋ the last jewel

˚ · . sanemi shinazugawa x afab!reader

: ̗̀➛ baby trapping (?), breeding, impregnation, choking, dubcon

call me thunder man when you can't see my eyes to who oppose me, you can die now

sanemi had a dilemma.

he never thought it would happen in his lifetime, but it did. he fell in love. he fell in love with you, a strong and beautiful woman. he's grateful to have you, though now he's come of a dilemma.

throughout his life, he's come across unfortunate events and despair, loosing those who he loves most. it's basic knowledge that the enivronment you had as a child shapes who you are as an adult, it was bound for sanemi to become such a ferocious and off-putting man when he grew up.

yet, out of all the people in the world, you chose him. you saw through his deep scars and empty eyes that he was much more than a killing machine.

he didn't know how to accept it. he tried pushing you away, tried scaring you off, but you were just so damn stupid and persistent, following him around like a naive puppy.

time went so fast around those months, he can't even remember how he wound up in this position.

this delicate position, where he's trembling underneath your touch. your hands are like fire, warming up his skin with every interaction. his eyelashes flutter at the way goosebumps rise on his pale skin, a hot wave rising up his spine.

his hand reaches for your other grips at the sheets below you, encasing it with his much larger ones. his nose rests in the crook of your neck, inhaling your intoxicating scent, smelling of desperation and sex.

"ugh." he groans, his hips rolling deeply into the soft flesh of your ass. he's glad you can't see his face right now, the brat you are would never let him live without teasing him. his eyebrows are furrowed, eyes clenched shut, teeth nipping on his own flushed lips to prevent himself from sounding like some desperate boy.

"you feel so good.." he mumbles into your ear, his hand coming up to wrap around your delicate neck. sanemi sucks and bites at the flesh of your shoulder, your blood attacking his tastebuds. he now knows why demons eat humans, afterall, you taste pretty damn good.

"auhh, 'nemi–more—" you cry out, his cock teasing at your sweet spot. "yeah? like that? you sound like such a pretty slut," sanemi groans out, detaching from your neck and sitting upright to watch the way your even prettier pussy grips onto his cock.

he inhales sharply when he feels his cock twitch when your tight walls consulve around him so tightly it has him struggling to breathe. sanemi tries his best to fuck you through your orgasm, tries his best to not cum in that addictive pussy of yours.

he should though, now that he thinks of it.

before he thinks more about it, his strong arms wrap around your torso, lifting you up to where your back meets his chest. "'nemi—" you whine out, throwing back your head onto his shoulder. sanemi brings up a callosed hand up to your breast, groping you so roughly, pinching at your sensitive buds.

"there's something i need to talk to you about," sanemi says, his tone uncharacteristically stern. "h-huh?" you dumbly say, back arching away from his abdomen. "in the middle o-of-of sex?" you stutter out, barely able to get a coherent sentence out.

god you can't even think. you're so cute. sanemi cups at your jaw, directing your face towards his so he could shove his tongue down your throat before he's pulling away once more an suddenly pulling out his cock from your dripping pussy.

"sanemi?" you cry out, tears dropping down from your waterline at the feeling of being so empty. though, you aren't empty for long as sanemi flips you over onto your back and roughly forces his fat cock back into your small cunt.

the sudden intrusion has you seeing stars, nearly blacking out from the intense feeling of being stuffed full.

"you need to drop of out the demon slayer corps." sanemi says, his purple eyes watching through his long eyelashes down at you. your own eyes stare directly at his, widened with confusion. "w-what? why?" you ask, so confused and shocked at you try to shuffle out of sanemi's grasp.

his hands grab at your hips, his own angling for that sensitive spot within you to keep you weak.

he had his hips grinding against yours, too painfully slow in order to get you to cum again, but also too painfully deep to stop you from not feeling anything.

"you need to drop out from the demon slayer corps–from being a hashira, it's too dangerous." sanemi says once more. "a-and? do you not think i'm strong enough? i'm literally a hashira, just like you."

yes, you are a hashira, just like him. but even the strongest hashira die, it's too much of a risk. you've had him wrapped around his finger, he's too attached to let you go now. he just won't have it. he won't let another person in his life die anymore, especially not you.

there's a couple seconds as he stares down at you with a blank face, his hips stilled away from yours. his sudden quietness scares you, "sanemi?"

before another second could pass, his hips are pushing against yours and his cock tip is flush against your cervix. your mouth opens up in a silent scream, hand coming up to hide the way your eyes roll to the back of your heah.

sanemi's free hand comes to grip at your jaw, squishing your cheeks together to form a pitiful pout to get your attention.

sanemi feels a switch inside of him flip, veins in his neck protruding, jaw clenching tightly. he's not asking. he's demanding. "no, y/n. the demon slayer corps doesn't need a woman who's already knocked up."

a gutteral groan leaves your throat at his words, fat tears being swiped away from his fingers. you can barely put two and two together at this point, only knowing the words knocked up.

"sh-shanemi.." you drool, hand coming up to grip at his wrist. "it's okay. you'll make a good mommy. you'll be able to protect our babies with how strong you a-are—fuck, i'm gonna c-cum in you–" sanemi groans out, his hips loosing rhythm as he comes closer and closer to his orgasm.

sanemi can barely hold himself up as he teeters over his orgasm, his mouth salivating of getting his sweet little girlfriend knocked up with his babies. "i'm cummin', i'm cumming in your pretty pussy—" he cries out before his hands fly down to grip at the sheets, bracing himself as a wave of intense pleasure washes over him.

his cock splurts out a fat load of seed inside your poor pussy, his tip flush with your cervix to ensure all of his cum reaches your fertile womb.

sanemi pants once his orgasm settles down, slowly sitting himself up to see the masterpiece he's created. he pulls his cock out of you, growing hard once more he sees the state you are in, covered in sweat and dried cum, passed out from how good he fucked you.

you may not see it, but he does. this is the only way he can get you to drop out, being a mommy to his children. you can't really argue against this, after all, you signed up for his antics when you chose him.

please repost with tags and leave a like.

[monstersflashlight]

Day 18. Monster-kinktober: Greek Mythology + Nipple play/lactation

A/N: this is for the anon asking for more F/F monsterfuckery (and for myself bc I like boobies).

Fem!gorgon x fem!reader || nipple play, lactation, blindfold, bondage, role-play

You hear her approaching, her feet making almost no sound, but being blindfolded makes you hyper-aware of your surroundings and it’s driving you completely insane to hear her without seeing her. Your legs and arms are tied far apart, your body forming an X against the wall you are leaning into, completely naked. The perfect sacrifice for the gorgon.

You curse your past self for asking to be blindfolded. It would be more realistic, you thought at the time, but now, knowing she’s close but you can’t see her pretty face and even prettier body… You curse yourself again. You couldn’t pin-point where she was and it was driving you crazy, you needed her to touch you.

“What do we have here? A sacrifice? For me? I thought humans didn’t do that anymore, they forgot what monsters they should worship.” Her voice is low and deep, making you shiver as you feel a breeze against your left side, where she’s approaching. You can feel tickling against your arm, against your stomach as she leans in and her snakes touch your skin, exploring. “And she’s such a morsel… A sweet, sweet morsel for me to devour,” her tiny growl at the end makes you groan, breaking character for a second and making her chuckle.

You breathe hard trying to regain your cool. “Please, please… Don’t hurt me,” you try to act as much as you are able to, but you know it sounds fake. Your voice gets higher with anticipation as you hear her closer. You are so ready to be fucked dumb you can’t even process everything that’s happening.

She moves around for a bit, making you shiver. “Are you going to feed me, little morsel?” You hum an affirmative, your body tight with tension hearing her right in front of you, so close but not close enough. “Let’s see if that’s true… Let’s play with these breasts until she’s losing her mind, right ladies?” You hear how the snakes move around like they do when they are excited.

You can’t contain another tiny moan from escaping, your body knows what’s coming and you can’t wait. And even then, when her head gets close to your body and you feel her soft lips against your neck, her wet tongue tracing patterns over your jugular, you cry out.

The snakes in her hair touch your skin all over, all of their tiny long tongues touching your chest, neck, face… She’s all over, and still not close enough. One of her snakes bites down on your nipple, just a tiny bite, but it drives you insane with desire, a scream escaping your mouth as the gorgon laughs.

“She likes the pain… what a good morsel. I bet I could reach down and you’d be drenched, a slutty human like you enjoys being played with, don’t you?” You can’t answer her before her mouth is over your nipple, sucking hard and fast and making your eyes roll in the back of your head.

And just like that your torture begins. She pinches, licks and sucks your nipples until they feel raw, until you can feel every breath she takes over your breasts like it’s a caress. And her snakes help her drive you into a state of neediness so deep and profound that you can’t form coherent thoughts anymore.

You are a mess of desperation and horniness as she plays with your nipples. You can feel the milk inside, it took her a long time to get you to the point of milking, hours and hours playing with your tits until she got it, and after that she was even more obsessed with your breasts, her favorite toy to play with.

She pulls back for a second, kissing your sternum as her snakes keep sucking your oversensitive nipples. “I’m going to worship you until you can’t stand it anymore. I’m going to destroy you for anybody else… And you are going to thank me for it,” she promises with another kiss.

One of her snakes latches into your nipple with desperation, and her hot mouth latches to the other one, sucking hard and fast until you are seeing stars against the blindfold and your body is impossibly arched, trying to get closer to her. It’s exhilarating and completely maddening what she’s doing to you without even touching your pussy.

You are drenched in your own juices, which keep running down your thighs as you rub them together in the hopes of getting some friction. But as he keeps sucking and you finally feel the sweet release of milk from your raw nipples, you think you might not even need the friction, your orgasm is so close you are about to burst.

“Please, please, please…” You beg as she feeds from your breast, some milk overflowing from her mouth and running down your stomach, some of it to feed the snakes of her hair, some of it mixing with the juices running down your legs. The whole thing should feel dirty, but you’ve never felt so worshiped and cared for in your life.

She doesn’t respond, she doesn’t need to. Her teeth close around your leaking nipple as the snake in your other breast does the same, the combined sensation of release and pain, pleasure and ecstasy drive you into another dimension. You cry out as an orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave.

You come back into your body as she unties your restrains and your blindfold, and you smile down at her when she takes your limp body into her arms. Her snakes licking your face in a way that always makes you giggle.

“Thank you,” you whisper against her neck when she hugs you tightly, making her chuckle as she carries you back home.

[ddarker-dreams]

It's ovulation week I am begging you to give us more blade crumbs

I'M A BIT LATE BUT !!!!!!!!!! better late than never, ig ??? anyway... here's some not sfw jealous blade. warning for mentions of alcohol and it's implied reader let a dude flirt with her just to fuck around and find out .

(definitely not a bad idea or anything when your bf is an immortal killing machine haha... aha...)

despite your affection for your morose lover, you’ve harbored a secret regarding his eyes. 

those wickedly beautiful vats of crimson can occasionally be too much to bear. staring back at them, you’re reminded of the carnage he’s inflicted. that for some, this was their final sight before they bled out a similar shade. to have those same eyes weighing you down inspired apprehension. not from the belief he’d harm you — simply that he could. 

his gloved hands are cool against your feverish skin. they grope at your bare thighs, desperate and unforgiving. you’ve made his lap your throne. your panties are embarrassingly soaked against his clothed bulge, which you’re made to grind against by his inescapable grip. the friction is exhilarating, depriving your lungs of air and his mind of any coherent thought. he’s acting on base, animalistic instinct, his composure shattered beyond repair. yours isn’t any better. the night is young and he’s made an unapologetic mess of you.

faintly, you wonder if you should apologize. next comes determining what there even is to say. 

i’m sorry i’m so hungry for attention.

i’m sorry that i laughed at his jokes.

i’m sory that i leaned in too close.

“come back to me,” blade demands. his dominant hand finds your jaw, tilting it up, forcing you to stare at your reckoning. “think of no one else.” 

the meaning behind his words doesn’t immediately register. through the haze clouding your senses, a semblance of understanding pierces through. having your body isn’t enough. he wants your mind for himself as well. your most fearsome acolyte, who’d serve as its warden and worshiper. 

his eyebrows pinch together, belying his own inner conflict.

why did you choose me? 

when will you change your mind? 

how do i get you to stay? 

your lips find his. blade’s response is instantaneous, he ravishes you, his tongue likely tasting the cocktail you sipped an hour prior. a deep, guttural growl sounds from his throat. you whimper. his sounds of gratification do something to you, altering your chemistry, making your veins hot with lust. when you part, he chases after you, only stopping once he sees how desperately you need air. 

he’s painfully hard against your cunt. a wet patch has formed from where your anatomies grind together, his precum seeping through the fabric. the constant stimulation to your clit has you breathless. you’re close — teetering on the precipice. he must be able to tell, for he maneuvers you like you weigh nothing, sparing you the physical overexertion. thighs trembling, you bury your face in his neck. his scent is a mix of anise, sweat, and blood. oddly, it makes you feel safe. 

and then he urges you back to look him in the eye. 

“did you want him to do this to you?” the question comes out like a snarl, scarcely human in its timbre. 

you shake your head. 

“would you—” he clenches his teeth, as he’s nearing his own end, “—would you have let him fuck you?”

this time, when you try shaking your head, he slows down. 

“you have a voice, girl. use it.” 

you swallow thickly. 

“i wouldn’t have,” the words stumble out. “m’ sorry.” 

the atmosphere is thick and oppressive. the low light has you squinting to better discern his countenance. as always, it gives little away. in an unexpectedly tender gesture, he brushes his lips against your forehead. he then tucks the hair sticking to your sweaty skin back. your throat feels tight. before you can try to make sense of it all, he returns to his previous ministrations. still sensitive, you gasp, throwing your head back. 

the muscles in your body tighten, threatening to snap— 

“i swear,” he murmurs against your ear, “it’s you who will be the death of me.” 

—and at that, you come undone. 

[crownedcritter]

NSFW EYELESS JACK HC/DRABBLE 🔞

💉If you ever manage to sleep with this creature, Godspeed.

💉He knows what he is doing, having become overly familiar with the human body and how it reacts to different types of stimulation and touches

💉That being said, he is more than capable of making you a screaming, creaming mess

💉He always makes sure you cum before he gets inside of you, mainly because it’s a necessity. If he didn’t, it would be quite painful for you and nearly impossible for him to fit inside of you

💉He’s rather feral. He does whatever he wants in the moment; slapping, spitting, drooling, tossing you into a new position, whatever he wants, he gets

💉Not to mention, he says the most mouth watering disgusting things when he’s pumping his cock deep inside of you, sometimes not even making coherent sentences

💉He will not pull out, and that’s a promise. The thought of coating your walls with his spunk after a rough pounding is almost enough to get him ready for another round

💉On that same note, don’t think he’s a one and done kind of guy. You’re gonna be begging for him to stop, but he won’t until he is satisfied

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•

It had gone on for hours. The constant pounding against your g-spot, the constant cumming, creaming, and squirting on his cock was overwhelming and nearing the point of being painful. In a cock-dumb state, your mouth hung open, letting you taste the sheets he had shoved your face in, your drool leaking from the corner of your mouth and absorbing into the fabric. His hands had such a tight grip on your ass, slamming forward into you and using the leverage to bounce you back onto him, hitting deeper than you ever thought possible.

He had already cum inside of you a few times, the creamy white substance making such an obscene squelching noise when he slammed his hips against yours, dripping down your thighs and his balls, going completely unnoticed to either of you

“You like that? You love this cock, don’t you? Love milking me?”

His deep voice behind you sounded demanding.

You took a minute to respond, the feeling of being stretched out and fucked rotting your brain.

He growled and huffed behind you, before you felt a smack across your right ass cheek, before it went right back to that vice like grip on your behind

“Tell me you love this cock, whore. Say it. You were made to take this dick.” He punctuated each word of the last sentence with a particularly hard thrust.

“O-oh my f-fucking god..!” You almost screamed before babbling everything the demon wanted to hear.

Satisfied with your answer, he let out a chuckle before leaning forward. You felt his hands leave where you were certain would be bruises on your ass the next day, and he leaned forward, slowing down for just a moment.

You were close to looking back and seeing what the deal was, but he acted before you could.

He grabbed your hair and lifted your hair, allowing you to see his upside down face with how you were bent for a moment. He hooked his fingers into your cheeks, before picking back up the pace and the brutality of his thrusts, pulling your whole body back onto his cock.

🫶🏻 🫶🏻🫶🏻

[notanactressyayy]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫

— ₊⊹ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 . Natasha Romanoff x reader

— ₊⊹ 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 . in which she finally feels heard, seen.

— ₊⊹ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 . angst, emotional breakdown (panic attack), swearing, mentions of scars (sh), mentions of suicidal ideologies. Nat being honest and open about her feelings for once. hurt/comfort.

— ₊⊹ 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 . english is not my first language (🇧🇷) so i apologize for any spelling errors. rainy days, match sad stories. venting.

divider credits: @saradika-graphics ༉‧₊˚.

the heaviness of the afternoon air settled over Natasha — weighting down what was already heavy. her mind, her body.. everything felt like a weight, a weight she carried since she was born, or even before her soul was incarnated in her body. she felt— no, she knew that she was born in bad news, cursed, and there was no way of getting out of this. it's funny, those were the exact same thoughts she had ever since she was a child— 10, 11, maybe? and in that age, crossed her mind that probably when she grew up, those ideas would vanish and she would be free to have a normal life.

but that certainly didn't happen. and now, she found herself trapped. trapped in web that the more she struggled, more stuck she got, and that was a routine that repeated over and over and over — optimistic, optimistic delusional thoughts that came to battle with the bad ones, telling her that things would someday be okay, and the real, coherent ones, that crushed all the hope, the little sparkle of hope she had within her, making her mind a complete and total mess. chaos behind chaos. sleepless nights, restless days.

god, how good would it be if at least, her body wasn't enchanted. how perfect would it be, to throw herself down a building and don't feel anymore, instead of having just a few scratches here and there. the blade helped, even with the acknowledge that a normal person would feel 10 times more than she did. because the pain was still little, when comparing to everything this woman already endured. the red lines on her arms and thighs were just a reminder of the red on her ledge, and that it was now impossible to wipe away.

in moments like those ones, her brain desperately searched for any solution, any thought to refute her current state — it was the human instinct to survive. (yeah, she's human). her eyes squeeze tight, feet stumbling forward and hands gripping tightly the trailer's window rail, knuckles turning white.

inhale, exhale. inhale— no, let's stick to panting.

her mind would drift back to the little girls who she shared her life with in the red room, remembering each of their personalities, what each one of them would do in a situation like this. ironically, for Natasha, they deserved to be listened and helped. but herself? nah. but in the deep end, she didn't know if they were still breathing, still in this world. what was the point..?

"come on..." she mutters, hissing loudly as her legs start trembling, knees ready to give up. "stop, stop, stop, stop..."

her heart never felt so filled with anguish and pain like right now — yes it did, but it was always like that: whenever that happened, the past experiences felt like they never existed — and the now felt like too much to handle. her ears buzzed, the sounds of the wind blowing across the tree leaves around her went down to volume zero — the hair on her legs and arms went up in a deep shiver, and eyes went wide — realization.

the same fucking realization as always. nobody listens, nobody cares. no one will ever know her true story. no one will ever fix her. she won't be remembered. her life's a waste— why was she even born, when everything that happened was disgrace after disgrace. that's when the thread snaps, and her body reacts before her mind can follow.

her throat closes, as if suffocating — body falling backwards, hitting the floor with full force. her fingers run through her hair and tug on the strands, pulling them strongly, even breaking a few of the auburn locks. tears of desperation threatens to fall down her cheeks, but she doesn't really realize that yet. she's just so out of air, that's impossible to control any other action.

"why won't that fucking—" Natasha manages between gasps. she groans, grabbing on the skin of her thighs and squeezing them harshly, creating moon-shaped little marks, enough to draw blood. "won't it— stop!"

then, she sobs. wait, but.. why did it felt like.. relief? perhaps because now, she was in your arms.

a foreign, strange sensation of warmth, warmth of another human being, enveloped her. she didn't recognize who it was, nor did she care. with pure instinct, her arms wrapped around the person's midsection, clinging for dear life. and now, with the sense of security, she was able to cry freely. she cried silently, something you didn't like. her chest heaved with emotion, but you wished she was louder. she was taught that widows didn't feel pain, wether it was physical or emotional. that's why her small cries sounded as painful and miserable as loud ones. you, sitting on the floor with her, scooped her weeping frame into your arms and held her — her side against your chest, head tucked in the crook of your neck.

sadly, it wasn't the first time, and you knew it wouldn't be the last. you were always in the trailer with her when she had breakdowns like this one. and that was what broke you the most — her brain subconsciously would tell her she was alone, and she didn't know how to deal with intense feelings like those: thus, she didn't know how to ask for help, how to come to you so you both could prevent those mental draining episodes.

when you first met Natasha, the first thing she asked you was to forget that she was a deadly spy, an avenger, or whatever the hell else people knew her as. at least for a day, so you could see where things would go. this fact only, meant that since the beginning, she had a feeling about you.. one she couldn't quite put a finger on, but which made her want to be herself, with no masks or titles around you.

it was common sense everything she went through. but only you knew about her true point of view. when her own self felt like an outside observer regarding to her own life, you were always there to remind her of who she was.

"you're safe... you're safe, i am safe.. we're both safe.." you whisper, running your hand up and down her shivery arm, putting the cold away. "okay, Nat? you are safe. i am right here, ready to fight whatever evil that befalls you.''

"i don't know.. i-i just.. i'm exhausted... i'm s-so tired.." she manages between small cries, eyes pleadingly looking up into yours. her hand reaches out and intertwine her fingers with your own, grasping on every sense she had of your presence — because she knew it could fade again, that she could fall in the loop again. and it was torturous. "i never.. no one ever listened to me... i never.. told anyone.. about.. a-about..."

"i know." you nod, arms tightening around her. you crawl a little backwards, just so you could reach the blanket that laid upon the couch and grab it. you wrap it around her with one hand, not letting go of her own. she subconsciously brings the fluffy fabric closer to herself and snuggles up against your body. "but you can tell me. isn't it clear, malyshka? that you're stuck with me?"

malyshka. the endearment term in russian she had taught you. she loved it, so goddamn much. a little weak smile tugs on her lips, the kindness you were showing her easing the tension — as if you were offering to carry the weight with her. compassion, empathy. so foreign.

"i just.." she shakes her head, sniffling and taking a deep, shaky breath. she stays silent for a few minutes, and you wait. voice so quiet, small.. and scared. "before you.. no one ever.. held me. i never had anyone holding me. i never had a touch that didn't mean harm. never had anyone to listen."

"i know, Nat. and that pains me more than you think." you confirm, running your fingers through her hair, and nuzzling the side of your face against her cheek, resting on your shoulder. "but trust me, i will listen for hours, days, years and centuries. if you wanna share every single second of your life with me, i'm here to listen."

"that doesn't make any freaking sense to me." she chuckles humorlessly, a soft groan escaping her throat. she was feeling a little tired. "but.. the truth is.. few people understand what i went through. the little people who lived in the same circumstances as me are probably all dead.. and... i truly don't want you to understand. i don't want you to try and live the same horrors as i did. all i wish for..."

you take a moment to stare at her when she pauses. hurt arms, tear filled face. oh, what you wouldn't do to protect this heart. to keep it safe. never let anything harm it again.

"all i wish for, is for you to be here. to hold me like you're doing, to share your own experiences with me, to live with me. to whisper sweet nothings in my ear by the night. handle my body gently. just be here. be here and i know i'll be forever safe."

that was it. everything you ever wished for. you exhale deeply and shift her carefully, so she was on your lap. she looks down at you, and at your hand.. that slowly comes up to land on her cheek. she leans against it and breathes heavily. you smile, waiting for her next expected words.

"can i..." she clears her throat, hands shyly gripping your shoulders, eyes looking at you from below her eyelashes. "can i cry more?"

"of course." you cradle her again and settle her thighs around your hips. her arms wrap around your neck, and she gently leans her head on your shoulder... allowing herself to cry.. out of relief.

your right hand tenderly caresses her leg, tracing over the self indulged scars she had. the left one, makes slow, soothing circles on her spine, moving up, and down her back. she was letting all her emotions out, all the pain inside her heavy heart, was flowing out of her being. thanks to your patience, your gentleness, and your love.

turns out, love wasn't only for children. goodness gracious, how good it was to be loved...

"god," she sobs, squeezing you tighter, nose brushing against your hair as she allows herself to.. let go. "god, i need you."

"i'm here." you confirm quietly, looking up and kissing her temple. "i'm here, i'm not going anywhere."

[dreamofjoys]

Cyborg Boothill sex headcannons

CW: fem reader, possessive boothill(hinted to be), unprotected sex, rough fucking, manhandling

A/N: Typed all of these without my glasses and I’m already snuggling in my blankets lol pardon the typos!! I nearly wrote him off as a yandere psycho who is obsessed with reader’s body omg 😭

Cyborg!Boothill who just loves you, his pretty little human doll. Although it’s suppose to be an impossible feat for a robot like him to develop emotional attachments towards someone, he had somehow managed to “love” you. How does he come to know of this emotion called love? It’s easy! If you want something / someone only to yourself….. that’s definitely love, right?

Sex with him is so so good. Since he is a cyborg, you thought that his manhood would be made of metal. But nope, it’s fully made of a soft material that looks and feel just like the real one! Boothill is determined to make you get drunk on his dick only. As a cyborg, he has unlimited strength and stamina. He loves to fold you into half and watch your pretty pussy display itself infront of him. He fucks his 7 inch manhood into you relentlessly, wanting to see how deep he can exactly go. How does he know his dick is 7 inch? He’s a cyborg that needs to attend regular maintenance, Of course he knows the exact measurement of his own body.

And did you realise? Each time you guys have sex, he just seems to feel bigger and thicker than before. It’s almost as if he changed the size of his manhood whenever he goes for his scheduled maintenance…… His arms also seems more muscular than before, and the 6 pack of abs that is displaying before you makes you wanna volunteer lick him all up.

“Do ya feel good here?” Boothill thrust up his hips, his newly replaced dick hits your g-spot with dead accuracy, making you see white in an instant. “I guess that’s a yes,” the man smirks when he sees your fucked-out mind, too sluggish and incoherent to say anything proper. All you could do is moan like a slut and beg your lover for more as he abuses your insides to his liking.

“Hm…… you take me in so well……. You can definitely take in a bigger size…….” It’s too bad that you weren’t coherent enough to process what he was saying. Otherwise, you would have seen his devilish face coming up with all sorts of ideas to make you go crazy during sex again.

[oceanreveuse]

𝗡𝗢𝗪 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗜𝗡𝗚: 𝘁𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲 𝗽𝗮𝗹𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲, 𝗳𝗲𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗻𝗲𝘂𝘃𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲.

◟fem!reader, NOT CANON AU, think of this as like... an evil, meaner version of neuvillette! that means yes, it'll be ooc by canon!neuv standards fyi, massively nsfw, dacryphilia, dragon man w a lot of stamina, two dick neuvi, overstimulation, breeding, neuvillette with forked tongue, penetration, dom!neuvillette, sub!reader, petnames (angel, darling, sweetheart), momentary praise (good girl), very short but it was just a thought - not proofread. ◟anastasia's footnote : this was spawned by a conversation with yukari earlier so this is how i'm spending my halloween evening; yet again, this is not canon!au neuvillette. it's like alternate universe. shadow realm. the evil akasha possessed haitham. that type!!

another long, slow thrust into your tight heat and this man has just about lost it. the two of you had been at this for hours, perhaps for longer than your fragile human body could withstand but he was at the point of caring less. NEUVILLETTE was certain you'd take everything he gave you, pushing you to the limits just for a little more of his seed, just for your womb to be filled to the brim with hot, sticky substance as if it was your lifeline. you had a safe word, you was very good at tapping out too so the dragon was past showing any concern.

you were so good for him, so obedient and willing to take his dick - or dicks, depending on the day. sometimes filling one hole up was simply not enough for him, perhaps his day as the iudex of fontaine had truly pissed him off. white hair drapes over his shoulders, brushing against your bare skin that's sticky and hot to touch, red streaks giving you some semblance of colour in the dim lit room. he had to run out of stamina eventually, right?

"n-neuv," you choke out, wanton moans and the lewd slap of skin drowning out your attempts at coherent sentences, "please!"

the dragon raises a brow, briefly amused at your apparent need to beg him. beg him for what? for relief, for a moment of recovery, for more potent seed, for a change of position? all the options and neuvillette was reeling at the imagery it gave him. a smirk tugs at those pale lips, hovering just above your neck as he inhales your scent so deep, fangs bared at the thought of just biting down on your skin. it's oh so tempting, he digs his fingertips into the plush skin of your hips just to gain some semblance of restraint.

"what is it, angel?" neuvillette chuckles, deep red eyes lifting to admire the glossy affect in your tears - what's this? tears threatening to drip down your cheeks and merge with the drool on your chin and jaw from laying on your back for so long? "enjoying being such a good darling for me that much tonight?"

the whimper you release is drowned out by neuvillette's low growl, the tip of his second cock bumping against your sensitive clit as it slides through your soaked folds with every sharp thrust he delivers, determined to finish you both again - and soon. the tears are on the verge of spilling, a black forked tongue licking at neuvillette's lips like a parched man.

finally, one falls down your cheek, rolling a path along your skin that his eyes narrow in on almost instantly. he knows you're too fucked out to acknowledge it, to even notice anything past his hips drilling into your wet cunt and his heavy balls slapping against your ass. neuvillette leans forward, almost pressing your body in half. he grunts as you squeal, blown out eyes blink blearily up at him with that damn innocent look.

he's so close to blowing another load into you, pumping you full of cum and ensuring you're bred, round and full for the sake of his legacy as the iudex but first... your eyes are squeezed shut, not expecting the rough slither that trails from your jaw up to your cheekbone, licking up a salty tear.

"fuck," he breathes, his nose bumping yours briefly as he swaps sides, his tongue wet as it follows the path of your tears that just keep flowing as a result of overstimulation, "you taste so much better than i thought you would, sweetheart."

there's a wicked grin on his face, his fair skin glinting with sweat in the candlelight. neuvillette's hot breath fans over your face, your little sniffles and whimpers almost matching the rhythm of his cock bullying your sweet hole and neuvillette bares his fangs once more, "i think it's time to reward you one last time for being a good girl, don't you think?"

© oceanreveuse 2024 | reblogs appreciated | do not repost, steal, translate, etc. on any social media platform & do not feed to ai.

◟the waves call for : @kokonoiis @tetsuskei @reonaissance @ryuryuryuyurboat

[ the magazine is affiliated with @houseofsolisoccasum ]

[pretzel-box]

woe, Reverse AU angst be upon ye (not necessarily a request, just a thought i had, but if anything strikes feel free to go ham :3 i also like to think about this with the og universe because i love feeling emotional pain 🧘🏾)

but instead of the reader having a classified file for themselves (& having it for sale), there are videotapes (or maybe different colored pendrives? CDs work too, i guess!!) scattered across the abandoned offices, and at first Sebastian isn't sure what to do with them, but then he meets p.ai.nter and they recognize those immediately, questioning why Sebastian is carrying that stuff with him in a concerned tone, and Sebastian just stares at the computer like, "??? okay, what's up with it?"

p.ai.nter is hesitant to show him what those hide at first, but eventually agrees to let him watch, then warns him that he is not going to like any second of it

Sebastian gets comfortable in front of the screen but is only greeted with an extremely heartbreaking scene– it's (now an experiment) reader visibly shaking as they stare in horror at their new body, unable to speak in any way while sobbing and whimpering, hugging themselves (or maybe their tail? guess it depends on the way readers want to look) and wondering what they had done to deserve this outcome, to be stripped of their humanity

now i personally like to think that the reader struggling to speak is something that comes with their body being altered, like everything is big so they're not used to any of it so really all they can do is cry and struggle to say a coherent sentence because it sounds like a garbled mess, but that is also me wanting to add salt to the wound because this is supposed to be sad ooooo ⚡⚡

anyway, at the end of it all (cause there was more than one video, a whole documentary on reader and the experiments done on them), Sebastian is left feeling too many emotions and he doesn't even know when he started crying but he is (since the reader he knows now is different from the one he just saw in the videos but deep down it hurts so much because that is the same person in different years of their life) and p.ai.nter isn't sure how to comfort him so they keep apologizing till Sebastian finally chooses to leave

next time he stops by reader's shop he can't even bring himself to stare at them properly because he's afraid he'll start bawling his eyes out, meanwhile, reader is just staring at him like ":3? no snarky comments or banter today wow what happened to him" unaware that he has seen The Horrors

that's all thanks for coming to my tedtalk

Authors Note: This is inspired by this request but not 1:1 written like it. This is pure angst and some gore. READ AT OWN RISK.

Tags: GORE, Angst, Reversed AU, mentions of syringes, drugs and operations.

Words: 2,7k

The sound of a click filled the room, followed by the small red light blinking on the video camera, indicating it was recording. Sebastian glanced at you with irritation as you held the camera—a little relic you'd scavenged from a deeper part of the facility—not too long ago. He shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of the leather jacket you had once sold him.

"And we are live!~ Say hello to the viewers, Seb!" you teased, shoving the camera playfully in his face. He immediately pushed it away with his hand, his scowl deepening.

"I get it, I get it," he grumbled, pointing at the camera with a mock glare. "You found a new toy. Now what? You planning to make a movie or something?"

You shot him a sharp look, the room growing colder as if you were subtly irritated by his comment. Sebastian could sense he'd hit a nerve, a rare feat considering your usual carefree attitude. But then, unexpectedly, you burst out laughing, clutching your stomach and flashing him the signature grin that always greeted him when he came to your shop.

"I’ve already starred in plenty,” you replied cryptically, your words hanging in the air with an eerie undertone. Sebastian opened his mouth to ask what you meant, but you cut him off with another sly comment. “Maybe you’re the next big star, Solace.”

After leaving your shop, Sebastian wandered through the halls of the Hadal Blackside facility, the encounter with you replaying in his mind. He’d grown to enjoy your company—your banter, your teasing, the way you challenged him. But today, something about your behavior felt off. Beneath the jokes and sarcasm, there was something else—something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. And that unsettled him like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

How could he be in a relationship with someone so different, so complex? You were like a puzzle with missing pieces, a riddle that refused to be solved. The more he thought about it, the more it nagged at him. His legs carried him on autopilot through the winding corridors, his mind consumed by thoughts of you.

It wasn’t until he found himself in the office segment of the building that he realized he’d been walking without really paying attention. His hand hovered over the keycard reader, and it struck him that he hadn’t even looked for the blue plastic card he needed to get through the next door. The desk was a mess of papers, ink, and tapes.

His eyes fell on an old, unlabeled tape, the kind they'd used for surveillance back in the day. Scrawled on it in red ink was a series of numbers: *Z-13.* The sight of it piqued his curiosity, a nagging feeling that it was significant. Without thinking, he slipped it into his pocket. He’d find a way to watch it later.

Sebastian rummaged through countless drawers, lockers, and cabinets, searching for the keycard, but instead, he kept finding more of those mysterious tapes. Each one seemed older than the last, covered in dust and marked with strange codes.

His practical side told him he should probably look through all of them, not just the one he had picked up. So, he gathered them into a makeshift box he'd found lying around and continued his search for the keycard, all the while wondering what secrets these tapes might hold—and what they had to do with you. He know the Name Z-13 was related to you.

If there was anything he knew for sure, it was that you were full of surprises. And maybe, just maybe, these tapes would help him understand you a little better.

By pure coincidence, Sebastian ran into P.AI.nter a while later as he continued through the seemingly endless corridors of the facility, taking casual steps despite the weight of the wonky box filled with random tapes he was carrying. The AI's sketched face flickered to life, its eyes narrowing with a curious gaze. "Quite the haul today, Sebastian," it remarked, its voice tinged with artificial cheerfulness. "Planning to deliver all of that to our trusty shopkeeper?"

Sebastian grunted in response, setting the box down on the floor with a thud. He raised his hands above his head, stretching to relieve the ache that had settled in his shoulders from lugging the heavy box around. "Can you play them?" he asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and exhaustion. It was a simple question, and he knew the answer even as he asked it—of course P.AI.nter could play a few tapes.

But as soon as the question left his lips, the room fell into an uneasy silence. P.AI.nter’s usual cheerful demeanor seemed to shift, its sketched form glitching for a moment as if processing something more than just data. The AI stared at Sebastian and the tapes, an uncharacteristic hesitation creeping into its expression.

"It's just a tape, Sebastian," P.AI.nter finally replied, its voice flat, devoid of its usual light-heartedness. There was something in the way it spoke—something guarded, almost cautious—that only fueled Sebastian's curiosity further. The AI’s reluctance was like gasoline on a fire.

“A tape I want to watch,” Sebastian shot back, his patience wearing thin. He was tired of the evasiveness, the constant roadblocks whenever he sought answers. He moved with purpose, selecting one of the tapes and sliding it into the nearest recorder, right next to P.AI.nter’s screen.

“I have to warn you, Sebastian,” P.AI.nter said, its tone shifting to something closer to pleading. The air between them grew heavy, the tension thickening as the tape began to whirl in the machine. Sebastian paused, the gravity of the AI's words weighing on him.

"You won’t like any second of it," P.AI.nter added, its voice barely more than a whisper. There was a finality in its tone, a sense of foreboding that hung in the air like a storm about to break. The familiar face of his AI friend got replaced by some white noise and then a black screen.

Sebastian’s heart pounded in his chest as he watched the screen flicker to life, unsure of what he was about to see but certain of one thing: whatever was on these tapes, it was something the facility—and P.AI.nter—wanted to keep hidden.

“Hellooo! I'm one of the new researchers here at the Hadal Blackside. I'm recording Tape Nr. XXXX in Containment Cell XXXX. Wish me luck!”

Sebastian watched as a cheerful person appeared on the screen, holding a camera up to their face. Excitement radiated from their eyes, and despite the poor quality of the footage, their energy was infectious. Some of the information on the screen glitched out, redacting key details as if the tape had deliberately scrambled those moments, keeping certain things obscured.

The person on the screen shifted their stance, and the camera followed their movement. “This is a video for my friend who was super excited to hear about my job. I totally stole the camera for this, so shhh, we can't get caught,” they whispered conspiratorially, a playful grin spreading across their face. There was something unsettling about their carefree demeanor, yet Sebastian couldn't help but feel a small flicker of amusement. The tape felt like a low-quality YouTube vlog, reminiscent of simpler times, with this familiar-looking worker goofing off for the amusement of a friend.

“They told me this is super secret stuff,” the voice continued, the lens panning around the containment cell. “But I just have to show you this.”

The video abruptly cut to another segment, the view shifting to reveal a massive anglerfish-like entity lurking behind an enormous glass wall. The waters it swam in were inky black, like thick oil, giving the creature an unsettling and eerie aura as it moved in the dark liquid.

“Isn't it cool?” the person behind the camera asked with an almost childlike wonder, pressing their flat hand against the glass. “They’re hiding this here! They do some voodoo fish shit in this facility. Even the human centipede would turn pale in envy.”

Sebastian froze as he watched the footage. The creature behind the glass was terrifying—a monstrous anglerfish, its grotesque form barely discernible in the murky waters. It was an unsettling sight, made even more disturbing by the fact that this reckless researcher was standing mere inches from one of the most dangerous entities imaginable, their tone light and casual as if they were commenting on the weather.

A chill ran down Sebastian’s spine as he continued to watch the video, his breath caught in his throat. The footage shifted again, but the image of the monstrous fish remained burned into his mind. His gut twisted with unease. What was this person thinking, standing so close to something so deadly? And why did they seem so familiar?

As the old tape continued to play, the weight of the discovery settled on Sebastian’s shoulders like a heavy boulder. Whatever secrets were buried in these tapes, he was certain they weren’t meant to be uncovered—especially not by him. Yet here he was, staring at a reality that seemed more and more like a nightmare. The things he saw so far in the blackside were not as terrifying as this giant monster that rested behind that glass wall.

The tape ended abruptly, and for a moment, there was only silence. Sebastian’s hands trembled as he reached down to turn the cassette over, the worn edges rough against his fingertips. He knew there were at least four more tapes waiting in the box at his feet, each one a potential gateway to another nightmare. His breath caught in his throat, a cold sweat forming on his brow. Still, his curiosity and a gnawing need for answers compelled him to continue.

With a shaky breath, he pressed the tape back into the player, flipping it to the other side. The screen flickered to life again, this time showing a cold, sterile operating room. Several figures in hazmat suits moved with practiced precision, their faces obscured by masks and goggles. The room was pristine, a stark contrast to the horror Sebastian knew was about to unfold.

“This is Experiment Nr. XXXX,” a calm, clinical voice narrated. “And our newest trial patient, Z-13, who volunteered for their transformation.”

Sebastian’s eyes widened as he recognized the person strapped to the operating chair—the same person from the earlier footage. They were bound tightly, their limbs secured as though they were a dangerous criminal. There was no mistaking the fear and confusion in their eyes, even through the drug-induced haze.

“Z-13 was administered XXXX, XXXX, and XXXX 20 minutes prior to the start of this procedure,” the voice continued with an unsettling detachment. “Their pupils are dilated, and the patient has entered a state of delirium, necessary for the next phase of the experiment.”

The camera zoomed in on the bound figure, their eyes bloodshot and unnaturally wide, darting around the room in a frantic, unfocused search for something familiar. Sebastian felt his stomach churn with a sickening realization—this was no volunteer. This was a person trapped, forced into an unimaginable horror. The idea of volunteering was just another lie, a thin veneer over a darker truth.

Sebastian’s fingers dug into his knees as he watched, his body tense with dread. He knew what was coming next, but the tape did not shy away from the gruesome details. The hours that followed were a blur of pain and suffering, each tape more harrowing than the last. Scenes of torn flesh and oily blood filled the screen, detached limbs falling to the sterile floor with sickening thuds. Each cut, each scream was more unbearable than the last. And those eyes—those haunted, slowly awakening eyes—followed Sebastian throughout each frame, pleading silently for mercy.

With each passing minute, it became painfully clear that the drugs were losing its effectiveness and the person that was tied to the chair gained the ability to feel every single thing that happened there. The delirium ended and the terror began.

The scream tore through the speakers with such intensity that Sebastian flinched. It wasn’t just a scream—it was a raw, visceral sound, a guttural cry filled with a mix of agony, fear, and desperation. It was a sound so primal that it clawed its way into his very bones, settling there with an uncomfortable weight. It was the worst thing he had heard in ages. Every nerve in his body screamed in empathy for the poor soul on the screen, the person whose existence had been reduced to nothing but a vessel for pain.

“Silence them,” a cold, emotionless voice commanded from off-screen.

Almost immediately, a set of cruel, metal clamps were forcefully shoved into the patient's mouth, prying it open with a brutality that made Sebastian wince. These were the kind of instruments used for people with severe jaw fractures, designed to immobilize and inflict pain to prevent further injury. But here, they were used as a tool of torture, a means to quiet the suffering that had become too loud for the facility’s sterile walls. The rough, unyielding metal dug into their flesh, tearing into the soft tissue of their mouth, blood trickling down their chin. The sight was gruesome, and Sebastian could feel his stomach twist with disgust.

The person’s screams were abruptly cut off, replaced by a wet, choking gurgle. They were left to suffer in silence, their jaw now clamped shut, the metal rods cruelly keeping it from moving even a fraction. Tears streamed down their face, their eyes wide with terror and pain, every muscle in their body taut with agony.

And just when Sebastian thought it couldn’t possibly get any worse, the camera shifted. The surgeon, clad in a sterile suit that seemed to mock the very concept of humanity, moved over the patient's eyes. Those eyes—once filled with life, now wide with shock, pain, and a frantic, animalistic fear—darted around in sheer terror. They were crying frantically, tears mingling with the blood on their face.

“We will now begin our final part,” the disembodied voice continued with a chilling detachment. “Removal of the natural human eyes to replace them with XXXX using XXXX and XXXX. The expected results will lead to an ability to see underwater.”

Sebastian’s breath caught in his throat as he watched a gloved hand reach for a long, thin needle, the metal glinting ominously under the harsh, fluorescent lights. The needle was positioned directly over the patient's eye, the sharp tip hovering just above the delicate orb. Their wide, terrified gaze seemed to plead with the unseen surgeons, with the camera, with anyone who might be watching—to stop, to help, to do something.

But there was no help. There was no mercy.

The screen flickered for a moment, and then, mercifully, the tape cut to black. The room was plunged into darkness, the only sound the low hum of the equipment around him. Sebastian sat frozen, his heart pounding in his chest, his mind racing with the horrific images he had just witnessed. His hands were clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white, the tension radiating through his entire body.

He was left alone in the darkness, his thoughts a chaotic whirlwind. The horror of what he had seen, of what had been done to someone who had likely never asked for any of this, crashed over him.

Then P.AI.nters face greeted him on the screen.

“They first drugged them, then they put in a row of ocean animal dna into their body.”

He was pointing out the steps that the surgeons did in the tape.

“They cut off their fingers, waiting for them to grow back. They took of the part from the knees to the feet…and then they noticed that it wasn't enough.”

Sebastian raised his hands, to put them over his ears.

“They lost both their healthy legs. Next was their ears, they cut it off. And then…they silenced them by closing their jaw.”

He could still hear P.AI.nter.

“And then they lost their eyes. The transformation from the human self to…the thing they are now…took 7 weeks. They attached and deattached plenty of stuff on them.”

For a moment he felt the urge to shut P.AI.nter off for good.

“Our shopkeeper went through much, don't you think?”

A loud sound filled the room and then there was darkness.

[sugurouge]

— diabolic waltz : getō suguru x f!reader

content warnings! DARK CONTENT, dubcon/noncon, yandere themes, size difference, strength difference, corruption, power dynamics/imbalance (reader refers to geto as master), pet names (doll, whore, toy, bunny, little one), hair pulling, water torture/forced drowning/waterboarding, punishment, deep throating, mind break, degradation

summary: You should know better than to behave greedy or entitled, but if he so sweetly entices you to misbehave, even the impeding punishment doesn't stop you from taking what you need. Until it's time to pay up. And Getō makes sure you always pay your debts.

wordcount: 2k | my kinktober masterlist

by clicking read more you are agreeing to consume dark content. don't interact if you cannot differentiate fiction from reality.

Geto rests comfortably in his armchair, dark purple eyes rake over your needy body—only hidden beneath a layer of satin. With you in his lap, there is at least a sort of solace to his tiresome days. He likes to view you as a sick way of rewarding himself, his prize for making it through another 24 hours. Hence why you're always kept on display whenever it's just the two of you. Him and his property, the weak human that somehow won his twisted interest. Nothing more than eye candy for him. You're so pretty until you turn needy and start talking too much.

"Master, please—" you start your advances all over again. Ever so prettily as your nails drag over Geto's exposed chest; you have long since pushed aside the layers of his attire.

Geto heaves a heavy sigh. It's his first indicator for you to shut your pretty mouth before he sends curses your way. Yet, simultaneously, he can't resist the torture; cannot keep his right leg from bouncing to cause friction against your puffy lips. Teasing you further to hear more whimpers instead of your actual voice.

Your hands press against his body as you try to control the bouncing, but the friction created by your dress brushing against your nipples makes it impossible to form coherent or cautious thoughts. Your legs clench around Geto's muscular thigh, attempting to maintain the pleasurable feeling.

"You really wish to bother me like that right now?" His dangerously low voice challenges. Suguru is well aware that he is the cause of your distress, but would he ever admit that? Not in a million lifetimes.

You know full well what will happen if you say yes, how your day will turn out if you give in to your own neediness when your master isn't the one to initiate. Your glossy orbs beg him without another word spilling from your lips as you nod.

A small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. You're just so dumb; how could he not adore you? The minor tilt of his head gives you the okay to shed your dress, to expose your perfectly clean body to his eyes. It's one of his priorities, to always have his doll look prim and proper. Soft and dewy skin, rose oil spoiling your figure to make it shine in the low afternoon light and envelop you in faux innocence for him to ruin.

You sink down to your knees right between his legs, your delicate fingers running over his muscular thighs up to his stomach, but the "tsk" coming from Geto's lips has you freeze immediately. Doe eyes look up at his intimidating stare, while his entire face remains stoic—almost bored, as he rests his cheek in one of his palms.

"Hand or thigh, no cock," he bluntly states.

You try to suppress the whine rising in your throat, try not to furrow your brows at his statement.

"Well, what will it be, bunny?"

He doesn't actually ask. Geto simply enjoys oversaturating your lusty mind with difficult decisions. You're always so afraid he will leave you.

"Hand, please, please," you bat your lashes at him even though you're painfully aware of how little effect it has on him. Yet he pats his thigh, indicating for you to sit on his lap once again. Your body follows suit.

"Any other wishes?" Narrowed eyes stare at you, they make you feel small and vulnerable as his hand dances along your thigh, drawing close to your needy pussy.

Your eyes snap down to his dishevelled clothes, raking over the layers of fabric that hide his perfect body from your gaze and touch.

You inhale sharply the moment his fingers snap you out of your thoughts, penetrating your walls deeply without warning and immediately curling against your clamping muscles. Yes, Geto might be okay with listening to your begs once in a while, but his pleasure lies in overwhelming your pathetic body, not preparing you softly.

Your head lolls back, fingers holding onto his shoulders, though they twitch to run through his black strands. You are well aware of the fact that he'd never let you ruin his hair.

Soft moans spill from your parted lips. He taught you to stay quiet, to not ruin his image of you—his sweet doll.

Yet the feeling is too good. The way his fingers stretch your cunt, your slick dripping down over his digits and palm. Your hips roll against his hand, pretty whines causing your chest to heave so perfectly for Geto to enjoy the sight of your tits.

He adds a third finger with ease and uses his thumb to draw intricate patterns on your clit, applying more pressure on the nub once he feels you tighten around him. "Such a needy whore..." he mumbles impassively.

But his cold voice, the boredom laced in his words mixed with his brutal ministrations, are exactly what you've grown to love from your master. It's so clear that you're doing something wrong, that you're messing up his perfect routine—but you just can't help it.

Your whines grow louder, small fingers now gripping onto his wrist as the coil in your stomach tightens further and further before it explodes. You fall forward, against Geto's chest, covering his neck area with moans, tears, and sweat as you gush all over his hand and dirty his robes.

Goosebumps run over your heavenly skin, clearly proving how overwhelmingly good he can make you cum with just his hand by now.

"Disgusting..."

You flinch slightly at that, eyes squeezing shut from just one word coming from Geto. He pulls his hand out of your tight cavern, your slick clearly coating his skin as a scowl spreads on his face. "You enjoy this? Staining me with your slutty needs?"

You create some distance between your bodies, shamefully staring at his hand before your eyes trail over his tainted clothes. You didn't plan on this happening, didn't plan to make such a mess, especially not over him, but why does he have to be this good?

Being a disappointment still has the same effect on you as it did from the start, causing tears to spill from your eyes as your body starts to shiver. "'M sorry, I didn’t—I wanted—"

"Time for a bath, no?" he sighs and gets up, pushing your smaller body off his lap with little care as disgust is clearly painted on his features.

Your butt meets the hardwood flooring and you try frantically to stop the tears from running down your face. Pleading ever-so sweetly with a shaky voice for your "Master..." to have mercy.

The clacking of his shoes stops the moment he stands beside your body once again. Long fingers card through your locks before he kneels beside you and tugs at your roots.

"How much longer are you going to make me wait, little one, hm?"

The sting on your scalp rips you out of your struggling mind; it forces you to rely on your instincts if you want to get out of this unscathed tonight. "Forgive me," you whisper.

So incredibly cute.

Geto takes a deep breath, eyes running over your body as he hums. "Five minutes."

You nod in perfect understanding and immediately grab your gown before hurrying over to the bathroom.

Aftercare is important, he always tells you. And aftercare you shall give him.

So you let water fill the spacious bathtub, let the most expensive bubble bath fill the room with a soothing scent as you light candles to set the mood and welcome Suguru in.

You stand in front of his large frame, looking up at his face to grant you permission to undress him, carefully undoing the ties of his gown before letting the heavy garments hit the floor. You will wash them as well.

Only his briefs aren't yours to touch as he walks past you and finishes undressing himself before he sinks into the warm bathwater.

You watch him the entire time—how he leans back against the expensive porcelain of the tub, arms resting around the rim—looking oh so inviting. His eyes meet your gaze, appreciating your obedient state as he slightly tilts his head to make your body move.

You follow his silent order, going down on your knees right behind his back, cool fingertips carefully reaching out to lie on his tensed back.

The stark difference in temperature makes Geto hiss in annoyance, slightly flinching out of your reach as he glares over his shoulder. You are quick now to rub your hands together, mumbling your apologies before trying to touch him once again.

Small fingers soothe his skin, spoiling his muscles. You always start with his shoulders, using a sponge to have the warm water coat his exposed back and chest, massaging the well-trained area until his breathing calms down and little groans escape his throat.

Only then do you move on to kneel next to him, carefully admiring his relaxed features—he looks almost angelic. So calm, almost innocent.

Until his eyes meet yours and he holds out his hand to you. The exact hand he used to make you cum and that was tainted with your juices.

You focus on it, carefully massaging his fingers and ‘cleaning’ him further. "Good little doll..." Suguru breathes his praise out between his soft lips. It's usually the only compliment you receive, so you make sure to savour it.

You smile gently and finish up your care of his hand until he takes it out of your hold. He brushes your hair out of your face, leading his hand to reach around the back of your neck as you bend over the bathtub, nails digging painfully into your scalp while being pulled forward to be met with the bathwater.

You squeeze your eyes shut immediately, trying desperately to keep your lips sealed as you're pushed beneath the surface. Your nails grab onto the porcelain of the tub, weak muscles trying desperately to stop him from shoving you down further, but it's to no avail. He's much stronger than you'll ever be.

Geto lifts your head back up out of the water, and you suck the air back into your lungs—which quickly mixes with the bathwater as he dunks your head down again.

Your screaming is drowned by the transparent liquid all around you.

It becomes a loop—the pain of him tugging at your roots, being met with the cold air of the bathroom before he pushes you down again.

It becomes a loop—the pain of him tugging at your roots, the cold air of the bathroom meeting your skin before he pushes you down again. Your mind loses focus, your fight grows mellow until he pushes his erect cock between your lips. It jolts you back awake. Not only are you drowning in the water, but you also have his thick shaft infiltrating your mouth. Tears mix with the water, nails digging into his abs and thighs as your attempts to scream vibrate along his cock.

Geto groans. His eyes roll into their sockets as he completely relishes the feeling of your convulsing throat around his member—all while in the comfort of his bathtub. But he has to stop. Sadly, at some point, he remembers you’re not actually a doll. Your body grows slack, and the struggling of your throat diminishes.

Only then does he pull your head out of the water, letting your body slump over the edge of the tub as he slaps your cheeks until you wake up. Your head pounds as you choke up water; it almost feels like someone is ripping your lungs apart.

“Stupid toy…” Geto mumbles, already dragging your head down and forward again.

“No, no, please, not again!” you frantically plead, and he stops—stops right before the surface of the water meets the tip of your nose.

“Why not? I made you cum how you wanted to as well, didn’t I?” he analytically proclaims. “Now suck like I taught you.”

The sting of the water is maddening; only the stretch of his cock against the back of your mouth inflicts more pain upon your body as he guides you up and down with water infiltrating your lungs.

It all becomes a blur in the end, and it’s hard to tell what is real and what a bad dream when you wake up the next morning in your soft king-sized bed, dressed in one of his favourite baby dolls, and his strong arms around you.

dividers by @/cafekitsune

[peachyloveswriting]

What would Vash, Wolfwood, and Knives do about sick reader? Like reader knew they had been getting sick for a few days but saying stuff like "I sneezed from the dusty sand" or "I choked on my spit. I wasn't coughing. " they keep coming up with stuff to say till they have a fever and collapse.

YES. MORE FOR KNIVES. I actually really enjoy writing for knives. He's such a complicated character to get right because he hates humans and more often than not the reader is portrayed as human. His feelings are so contradictory but I love it.

You're Only Human (After all)

SUMMARY: Vash, Wolfwood, and Naï, find out that you've been hiding a sickness from them. The outcome feels like a nightmare come true.

NOTES: Vash and knives parts are very long. There's a shit ton of angst but there's also hurt/comfort. I'd say it took me 16 hrs total from start to finish and that's partially because a huge part of Kives original part got deleted and yeah... I couldn't remember some of it. Enjoy tho lol.

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

Vash

Setting up camp for the night was no easy task, getting up to gather what everyone needs to sleep comfortably while helping Meryl set up her own tent. Yours always comes last and before you can even finish Roberto is asking you to help him cook. You never stop working and seize every opportunity to stay on your feet, the restlessness that comes with stagnancy kills you. Through constantly throwing yourself into work is painful and tiring, it's been even more so than usual.

"Hey kid. Come and help with this roast."

You ignore Roberto's request, too tired to even think straight much less give a coherent thought, only curling further into the backseat of the truck. In the back of your throat has settled an itch, one that's not quite there but prominent enough to make you force down a cough. It bubbles up suddenly, making you gasp for air in-between coughs. Your throat burns in pain and tenses as it stops.

Soft foot steps pad up to the open door. Meryl peeks in at you with worry before she fixes herself right. "Uh... Sorry if I'm bothering you but could you help me with my tent again?" She clasps her hands together, eagerly waiting for your answer.

Nick watches from the outside of his own tent, gazing at your still form while his hands blindly settle the cross firmly into the sand. He doesn't decide to speak until Meryl extends a hand to tap you. "I'll do it." He offers.

Meryl turns to look at him with a disgruntled smile. "Thanks?" He scoffs. "Yup. Don't mention it. And close the door while you're at it."

Meryl looks at your limp form, not wanting to close any limbs in the door she checks just to be sure before she carefully closes the door. Just before walking away she takes one last peek inside to see if she disturbed you but you haven't moved an inch. Taking a deep breath she turns to stand beside Nick while he puts her tent together.

The night carried on and with it came Vash. To everyone else the night went on as usual but to Vash, a part of him was missing. When he looked for your tent he was sad to find that it hadn't been set up at all. This only worried the blonde further. His stomach would churn with unease the further he looked around. There was no sign on you anywhere. Just as he was about to peek around the truck, a soft finger tapped his shoulder. He turned to find Meryl gazing up at him.

"If you're looking for them..." She points to the truck. "They've been there all evening."

Hia gaze follows her pointed finger to the backseat of the truck. Offering her thanks, he rushes over to the truck and pulls open the door. You lay curled up on the farthest side away from him, your face hidden and tucked away in your arms. Face softening, Vash climbs into the empty space by your feel and closes the door behind him, ensuring privacy.

"Mayfly?" He leans over curiously, his hand slipping under your chin to lift your face into view. You grimace, your head swimming in agony and dizziness. "Are you okay?" His cries crease in concern.

Lazily, you lift a hand to swat him away. Setting your head back on your arms he lifts the back of his hand to your forehead. "You feel hot. Maybe you should get out of the car. Get some fresh air." His hand brushes over your head in a soothing manner.

"I'm fine." He smiles at your half-hearted grumble.

"If you say so..." Swiftly grabbing your shoulder, Vash scoops you up into his arms with ease and scoots to press his back to the door. He spreads his legs and leans back just enough for you to lay comfortably on his chest. You're just lethargic enough that you flop against him, no resistance whatsoever.

He stayed with you until the morning, upset when he kept waking up to you practicing choking in your sleep. Every time he raises a hand to your forehead it burns his skin. You were certainly running a fever of some kind or at the very least sick, he's never seen you so lethargic before. You've always stayed on your feet, working yourself to the brink, till' your legs won't carry you anymore. This might just be one of those spells but you never left the truck. Even when he got out to help everyone pack up you didn't move.

When everyone gathered inside the truck, you didn't move, allowing yourself to get shoved around to make room for Wolfwood and Vash. As Vash climbed in, he scowled at the priest who shoved you about as if you were some object he could just discard. Gently scooping you far enough to slide in. he laid you back down in his lap and held you close, allowing you to get some rather comfortable rest. Hours later, you woke up in a daze. The heat consuming you from head to toe is unbearable, breathing comes harshly.

You can see legs moving through the sand below you as you wake up but very quickly realize they're not yours. You begin to feel hands under each of your knees and your body pressed against another. Below you, Vash's coat flaps into view, the edges of it tugging about with each step.

You groan, dizzy from the heat and disoriented. Your head is reeling about, begging to go back to sleep and crying at the same time. Every part of you aches and your throat feels like it's been grated like fine cheese.

"You're awake!" Vash turns his head to look at you nuzzled into his shoulder. Swallowing harshly, you lift your head to glance at him. "Where are we?"

You cringe at the sound of your own voice, sounding like a decrepit frog that smokes cigarettes. It feels like you haven't drank in forever and your stomach rumbles angrily. Suddenly Vash jumps to keep you up on his back, you whine at the sudden jolt and dig your hands into the chest of his shirt. He grimaces at your painful response.

"You okay?" Forcing yourself to right yourself, you begin to wriggle in his hold. "M' fine. Put me down."

Vash's brows creased with worry. "Are you sure? You've-"

Pushing from his hold you fall into the scorching sands. Hissing in pain, you jump to your feet jostling your brain into a wave of vertigo. Your hand shoots out to find purchase while your vision grows dark. Tingles flood your body as a low dull pain pulses in your head. Two arms scoop you up into security, keeping you from falling back into the hot sands. "Whoa!"

Vash steadies you as you lean against him limply for help. "Slow down. You're not well." His hands move to your shoulders. A long drawn out couch slips from your lips. You shake away from his hole to walk towards the group, they're way ahead of you occasionally glancing back to stop and wait. "I'm fine."

You trudge forward at your own discretion and Vash follows closely behind. "Let me carry you Mayfly." A hand comes to rest at the small of your back. Beneath you, your legs shake horribly, threatening to lose your balance. It's hard just to push forward in the sand without wincing from the sore ache that settles into your bones. "I'll be fine, Vash."

The desert becomes distant, a cold covering your whole body like ice. "I'm..." The sky began to darken, blotting out the light from the suns and the sand beneath you.

"oh!" Slipping forward, Vash stretches an arm over your chest to stop your falling body from collapsing in the sand. The over exertion is obvious and your body makes it hard to deny. Vash can see it clearly, the bleary look in your eyes as he scoops your bridal style in his arms. Gazing down at you with an unreadable expression, he shakes his head. "How long has this been going on?"

You roll your head into his chest, shielding your eyes from the suns. Breathing in to speak you choke out a cough, you can hardly catch a breath in-between. When you finish, your head falls back softly. "A few weeks ago." You mumble weakly.

A frown settles upon his lips as he looks ahead at the horizon, the glare on his shades stops you from seeing his eyes. Those are always a dead give away for how he's feeling. Those shades work wonders for him.

Taking a shaky breath, you relax in Vash's arms. "Don't worry. I'll take you to a doctor. You should rest until then."

You shake your head. "Won't you get tired of carrying me?"

He looks back down at you smiling softly. The smile reaches up to his eyes, softening his gaze and wrinkling the corners of his eyes. "I will. It's okay, I'm supposed to take care of you Mayfly. Just rest." His voice is so soft he's almost whispering. It makes a heat swirl in your chest as you close your eyes.

"I'm sorry Vash."

He chuckles. "It's alright my love."

Wolfwood

Sweat beads along your forehead as you follow the giant wandering cross in front of you. Your wavering pace slows you down even more the longer you push forward. It's so far away now. When was the last time you even had water? God, you can't remember. Trudging through the sands makes the ache in your already sore leg grow worse, you can barely lift your feet from the ground.

Breathing is a labor, it burns your lungs with each breath you take, the longer you go without calling for Nick's help the more dire this starts to become. The dull ache in your head is pounding with the intensity of the suns and your body grows weaker. You regret lying to Nick before he ran out of gas, you knew them you should have said something but the situation was bad enough. You thought saying something then would only cause more worry to settle in Nick's mind and you didn't want to burden him.

Suddenly, searing hot pain blossoms on your exposed skin and sand hugs your body as it lands. Your mind is foggy and blank, you watch Nick grow smaller in the distance not even bothering to look back at you. You rasp his name but your throat doesn't allow you to call any louder than a simple talking tone. After traveling with Nick everywhere, you never thought it would end like this, laying in the sand pathetically sick because of your irrational fear and Inability to ask for help.

Suddenly, in the distance. The space between you and Nick closes in. He runs towards you, tossing the cross all about on his back. Distantly you can hear him call your name for the first time ever, he's only ever called you by silly nicknames. You don't give much care to mutter a response and sink into the sand.

Panic squeezes in Nick's chest and he drops his cross beside him to tend to you. Grabbing your shoulders he turns you over and sits you up in his lap. "C'mon. Don't fall asleep." He begs.

You cough up a laugh. The concern in his face grows even more severe with your seeming obliviousness to the situation. "I'm fine..." You want to shrug him off so bad but even moving feels like hell.

Heart pounding in his chest, Nick swallows harshly "You haven't been fine since we got stranded, have you?" The back of his hand feels freezing as he presses it to your forehead. You grimace with discomfort and whine. "I'm not stupid." Carefully, he stands with you in his arms.

As he turns to walk away you spot his cross on the ground. "Your cross..." Nick acknowledges it with a hum. His face is stern, pointedly staring straight again with his lips pressed into a thin line. "I'll get it back later. You need medical attention first."

You smile. "So you're saying you care?"

His grip on you begins to tighten. *Of course I do! Don't fucking scare me like that again." He growls.

"Sure." Sleep tugs your eyes closed, pulling at your weight the less conscious you become. Nick glares down at you, squeezing you tighter against him. He feels your body grow limp in his arms, heart dropping to his stomach.

"What did I say? Don't fall asleep." You're jostled awake with a groan. "Just let me sleep. Please."

"And if you don't wake up again?" He's become eerily nonchalant. "What then?" The edge in his voice shakes with worry, tracing the thoughts of what might unfold after your death. His chest aches at the thought of losing you and he won't say it but he's scared of losing you. "It'll kill me..."

Nick will never admit it but you do more for him then he lets on. Your company alone could last him a lifetime, your smile, it could make him happy forever. Everything about you fixes everything bad about him and he's not ready to give that up. Especially not over some silly illness. Hearing his words and understanding what he means, you coo quietly and rest your hand over his heart. Your touch quells his fraying nerves.

"I drag you down Nico." Your heart weighs heavy in your chest. "It might be better if you leave me behind."

Stomach clenching wearily, Nick grunts. "No." Venoms laces his tongue. "You idiot. I love you too much to do that." You gaze at him in surprise. "Don't look at me like that. I said what I said. You should just be quiet and conserve your energy."

Hesitant, you gaze at him for a few moments longer before letting your head rest carefully against his chest. "I'll get you help. Just hang in there."

Millions Knives

Sitting beside Naï, he plays the piano. Quietly, you watch his fingers dance over the keys as they belt out a dramatic yet familiar melody. It strikes the soul as misunderstood, you know it well. Many times has Naï played this song in your presence. You've heard everything he plays, as his words command you stay by his side under his watchful eye. Many of his followers take this as a sign of mistrust, a show that the human race will never take his attention. Naï has said to you before: "Hear me and believe my word. My trust in you is not misguided, I only wish to protect you from those who wish to harm you."

Despite hating humans, Naï knows his fair share about the ways they operate. He understands the delicacy of your body and handles it with immense measure and meticulous care. He keeps you near to prevent his followers from making a move to take your life. For him, he even strives to understand more about you, to protect you. His care for you and your well-being runs deep, although Naï doesn't quite understand why it's you he's so careful about, he understands that you make him feel something.

Naï, even in his own strange way, shows that he cares for you. He appreciates the company you keep him and he's not foreign with thanking you. Just the same your appreciation runs deep, he offers you friendship, safety, food, and a place to lay your head at night. Above all else, his friendship and company you find the most rewarding, to know so much about him is to see under his facade. Knowing that underneath all of those sharp blades, a gentle, and caring man resides. Only sparing himself to his closet confidants.

Beautifully, the keys fade into an epilogue, an ending to the story it once opened with. You find that as you watch with a smile your lungs begin to burn. A cough tries to bubble its way past your lips, it takes your breath away and chokes you on the way out. Turning away to cover your mouth, you find it hard to catch your breath and tears blur your vision. The melody that had once carried through the room now falls silent in the stead of your sputtering.

Worry tingles in Naï's chest as you gasp for air beside him, he's unsure of what to do or what this is. His knowledge might be expansive but he still has so much to learn, about sickness, potential threats, the many causes of death. His lack of awareness makes his heart quell with concern and his mind reel is fear.

"Are you alright?" His voice carries through the harmonious room. Tentatively his hand hovers over your back.

You wipe the tears from your eyes to see his angelic face clearly. "It's okay Naï, just choked on my spit."

Cautiously, he looks you over with care checking for abnormalities along your external appearance. Your eyes are dark and lightly sunken, despite noticing this fast Naï goes along with your word and nods in earnest. You feel scrutinized under his gaze, like he's judging every part of you without ever saying a word.

"Choked?" He queries. "Is this choking, dangerous?" His brows crease with worry.

"Well..." Recalling gasping for air, the onslaught of coughing as it keeps you from breathing in deep enough to catch your breath makes you choose your next words with ease. "Yes. It can be, depending on the circumstances. But it can also be prevented"

Intensely focused, Naï nods. "How can this be prevented?" His absolute attention is always divulged onto you anytime you talk, it's endearing, the way he listens to every detail. Nothing you've said has ever been forgotten by him, he remembers everything, making it a point to bring it up when useful later on. It tells you that he cares about what you have to say, knowing that makes your heart soar.

"Drinking a glass of water, or anything of likeness, then there's the heimlich. You should ask Con'rad about that if you want to understand it." Although many of the things that Naï knows about humans have been acquired through you, there are many things you can't find the energy to explain. Best someone else with more knowledge explains it to avoid any confusion.

"I'll go visit him then." Naï stands. "Come. I'll escort you to the room." Gently, you hold his outstretched hand, letting it guide you to your feet. He holds it gingerly as he pulls you alongside him. His hand is soft and warm, inhumanely so, you find comfort in his warmth.

The more time chugs along the more you begin to realize you've fallen I'll, coughing spells out of nowhere, extreme fatigue, loss of appetite. The coughing grows worse with intensity, burning your sore throat, your body wastes energy faster, and waking up in the morning becomes a difficult task. For longer times you would lay in bed seeking the comfort of your companion, Naï, despite hiding your growing illness from him. He's buying into what you told him, though it won't last for very long. If he's really that worried he'll seek the knowledge of Con'rad once again.

He knows your habits even down to the smallest details, including your sleep schedule. Though sleep is the only time he lets you spend alone, that's only in his room, the only ones allowed inside are you and him. As far as his knowledge goes, since you last went in about a day ago, no one has bothered to enter. Not even Naï himself would go to see you. He figured you only needed a little alone time before you might come out again to grace him with your company. The time rolled around for you to come out but the door never opened, Naï waited in anticipation, trying to stace off the minutes to spare you time.

The paranoia got to him before you could.

The whole time you've been inside he's only let the door out of his sight once, for only a short amount of time. Very few people would dare enter knowing what punishment would await them if he ever found out but just the thought of someone going in and hurting you... It makes his blood boil. He paces just outside with worry and frustration beginning to build just beneath the surface. He has to know you're okay, he has to hear you speak... No. No, he needs something more... He has to see you physically. Otherwise, he might just lose his mind wondering what awaits him inside.

Eager to finally see your face again, to hear your voice and feel your touch, he pushes the door open. Eyes scouring the darkness for your form he finally spots you laying still beneath the covers of his bed, you make no sound as the door closes and you stay still even as he says your name. In his chest, his heart begins to pound wildly, sending the rest of his body into a frenzy of feelings.

He rushes to the bedside, a singular blade extending to turn the lights on. The darkness cowers away at the flick of a switch and your form is revealed amongst his mattress. Almost stripped bare of your clothes you lay unmoving, almost as if the life from inside you has been drained. Chest straining, Naï climbs over top of your body lowering his head to your chest, your skin feels cold against his ear as he listens for a heartbeat.

Just underneath your delicate skin beats the rhythm of your life, it beats on even as you lay utterly still. Naï can feel his shoulders relax, the sound of your heart telling him that you're indeed still alive, but as he pulls away to further examine you he knows something's not quite right. it makes his stomach churn with unease. Your skin tone seems off, like something's not quite the same as it was before.

As softly as he can, Naï shakes your body. After the first movement he expects you to come to life with a groan but you don't move. If your heart is still beating, why won't you wake up?

"My flower, wake up. You've slept long enough. I need your company by my side." He shakes you harder this time. "Petal, wake up. I demand it." He tries to sound like he normally does when addressing everyone else but he can't seem to find it in himself to truly yell at you, to demand something of you. Especially not when you're stripped of your freedom at this moment.

Naï's throat tightens, his brows creasing with worry and fear. He's so confused, you usually wake up when he calls for you but now he's got nothing. It scares him, knowing just how fragile you really are, it aside now that he rushes you to Con'rad.

Before he parts to the lab, he envelopes your exposed body in his cloak and carries you in his arms. Nothing like this takes more than the blink of an eye, Con'rad barely even has time to process his master's sudden appearance. Everything is thrust at him at once, the fear and confusion that riddles Naï's face when he presents you to Con'rad, how he begs for him to find out what's wrong, to fix you.

Con'rad frowns at your unconscious body as he takes you from his master's arms. "Careful! Don't hurt them." Naï warns.

Con'rad can only cast him a glance before he sets you down on a table, he collects his supplies needed to check you over and watches as Naï retracts the cloak that is wrapped so tightly around your body.

To plants, a decade is only supposed to feel like a day. So why did Naï feel like it had already been years when it was only minutes. He stared at you intently, waiting for you to wake up, willing you to do something. But you didn't move at all. Naï was anxious from tip to bottom, so to quell his nerves Con'rad began explaining things to him.

"Like we discussed, humans are susceptible to many things, illness being one of them. Should a person go an extended amount of time without medication or medical attention, it can cause death. This happens to be the case with your friend. You're lucky you found them when you did Knives. I can still run this IV to get the right fluids in check. After, you can take them back to your room, the IV has to stay in until it's empty though." He eyes the bleach blond from the corner of his eyes as he tapes the IV to your arm. "Again. You're lucky. They should recover soon. But they'll need plenty of rest."

Naï steps away from the wall he had leaned on, the blades slither out from behind his back and circle you carefully until they meld into his cloak once more. Content, he carefully picks you from the table with ease, using another metal appendage to grasp the IV bag.

"Thank you." Naï bows his head to Con'rad in thanks. Before he can reply Naï is gone again just as fast as he appeared.

Returning back to the privacy of his room, Naï gently sets you at the edge of the bed where he could rest the IV bag beside you. Leaving you swaddled in his cloak, Naï climbs up the bed behind you. For a moment he's hesitant to touch you, like it's the wrong thing to do but he pushes forward. Softly laying an arm over your waist, he pulls you flush against him, his face tucked into the back of your neck. He would lay here until you woke, until then, Naï would relish in the feeling of your body against his and find comfort in your presence by his side.

He might lecture you when you wake up, or inspect you thoroughly for any other sickness, but he also might enjoy your waking company for a moment before he does anything else.