#just wanted you to know I didn't just dismiss this as a chain ask or decide to ignore you

[f0ofishies]

FL*SHING THEM AFTER AN ARGUEMENT

tsukishima kei, ushijima wakatoshi, oikawa tōru

Tsukishima Kei, your beloved fiance. You loved the man to death, you swear.. it's just that he's always been like this. All of the damn time. There was one time when you argued over dinner because someone didn't want to eat Italian. Seriously? How'd you even date this guy and later on accept a ring from him.

Just kidding, he has his cute moments. The man had prioritized you a lot during his college days. He must've fallen hard for you, huh? When he did get on one knee, you thought it was a prank. Nonetheless, you said yes— already being engaged for 4 months, too!

Back on topic, he's always been a cranky mother fucker and even more when he lose that volleyball match. You looked at him— in astonishment. This man had the audacity to even be too confident in a little fun of chess?

You couldn't even believe the audacity of him. He'd been laughing at your move on your black horse.. "Gee, just get one with it, babe..!" Another ridiculing sentence from him could've sparked a fire inside you. "Hah? Seriously, why'd you even do this rematch— when you clearly don't know chess."

Your eye must've twitched at that, you love him, and you swear to that on your life. But, seriously, he's getting on your last nerve. As he quickly moved his queen, grabbing your knight in the process. You moved another piece as he smiled. "Thank god, we don't do rematches in volleyball."

Your joke immediately made his smirk turn sour. As you chuckled to your own statement, your eyes glanced up to his. He immediately gave a disgusted face at you. "What, Tsuki?—" You tease, almost pinching his face as he has moved away from your hand.

"What is your problem..?" Now that made you raise an eyebrow. "My problem—?" He can't be serious right now. And that's how he ended up giving you the silent treatment, ending the chess match when it just started. You were utterly confused... even bewildered by his actions

Knowing your fiance won't crumble to a piece of you, you just quickly called out. "Kei?" He didn't even look at you.. oh, so that's how he was going to play. "Tsuki?" No budge, huh? The man had some nerves for ignoring his future wife. "Tsukishima Kei." Last call, he finally whipped his head to you.

Rolling your shirt up— his golden brown eyes dilated at the sight of your perky, wait, wait, this was cheating. "That's right, doofus.. I know you can't ignore them." You could totally hear the clogs in his brain working. Even bouncing them a bit— He quickly pulled your shirt down. "Hey—! what was that for??"

"You're in one hell of a ride, do that shit again. I dare you, baby."

How much aura did you gain after marrying the Ushijima Wakatoshi? You, the lovely wife, as ever.. had always been the cheeky one in the marriage. During one of his games, you'd literally chant his name out so loud. Maybe the whole stadium could hear you.

He'd be there happily, holding the ring chained around his neck. Giving you a small smile— You couldn't help but beam as you show off your ring finger too! Now that was months ago, your husband came home in a sour face after meeting his parents.

"Baby, how were your parents?" You asked him, quickly smiling as you cooked your signature curry. "Fine like usual." His deep voice caught you off guard as you felt a hand crept behind you. "Oh, so what did they—" "Can we not." You tilted your head.. "Sure.. okay." You compiled because who were you to say anything about that?

You looked at him as he ate, he felt your stare. "Yes, love?" The way your hand had been tapping on to counter.. like crazy. Lost in thought, you look up at him. "Toshi.. you know you can tell me anything?" Of course he knew that so he raised an eyebrow. "I know."

You were itching to know why he's so persistent on not telling you why.. he would usually just tell you at this point. But he seriously didn't want to talk about it, so he dismissed your concerns once again. "But babe.." You whined.. something in him just snapped.

"No, can you stop trying?" You huffed at his tone of language.. it was kind of your fault for being this nosy. So now here you were having a full blow argument. Were you petty? Definitely, a hundred percent. So when your husband had genuinely left you in the kitchen. You huffed—

Clearly, he needed a lot of space, huh? Shutting the bedroom door very tight— you wanted to go sleep there, but how? He had locked it from the inside. "Toshi..?" You called out. No answer. "Ushijima Wakatoshi!" You yelled out and finally the familiar 'click!' You finally let out a sigh and practically go in fast.

He's still on the bed, clearly trying to sleep. "Toshi..~" Your sweet velvety voice intoxicating him then sliding onto the bed— even straddling onto him. Still, the man laid bare, not even checking you out. You intentionally grind, trying to find the best friction. His hands finally with all of its glory wrapped around your hips.

"Look up." Your command might've sent a shudder on your poor husband. The blood pumping down to his familiar friend down there— oh how a vixen you were.. Seriously, he saw the way you held your shirt up. Those breasts out in the air just for him. "Mmm? Want it bad?"

"I swear, wife— you're always all talk and no action.."

That Argentinan volleyball player was taken by you! Who knew he had the hots for you. Tōru Oikawa, he had recently left Japan for Argentina.. then he met you. Somehow, you two clicked. Clearly, you only thought he was just getting into your pants but nope!

The infamous girlfriend of the volleyball player never really visited his games. Probably because your work always consumed your time. Tōru was beyond okay with that— of course he was. But after such a long tiring game, all he wanted to do was a date night with you. Sadly, you were still out at work.. in overtime. How could you not remember it at all? When you came home, his first response was immediate silence. Seriously nothing!!

"Tōru?" You called out in the shared apartment, finally slipping off your shoes. Stretching your arms wide as no response. "...Babe?" You called out once more. Absolutely nothing— you panicked, of course. Already running around to find him.That's when you spotted your sulky boyfriend, buried deep into the bed among all the plushies you have.

"Shit, babe.. did something happen at practice?" You asked him as he finally noticed your presence. An immediate huffed was heard, thanks to him. "Babe..? Baby..!!" You whined the petname, trying to uncover the blankets.

There he was, your lovely boyfriend. Tōru glared at you, those dark brown hues of his. "What's made you so sour..?" You asked him once more, trying to coerce him out of his moodiness. "I wonder why." He interrupted you, that made you raise an eyebrow. "Babe..."

You were utterly clueless, even when he avoided your touches. It suddenly clicked to you, a promise to him on for a date. You internally groan at that, "Shit, Tōru you know I didn't mean to forget.." Your hand itching to grasp his— yet he pulled away once again. "You always forget about me.." He whined into your shared pillows. "No I don't.. baby.. I'll make it up to you!!" You try to reason with him.

That's what got him to lash out at you. You did kind of deserve it— so here you are on the bed trying to get a sulky Tōru out of your shared bedroom once more. An idea popped into your head! "Tōru.. I have something to show you.." You found the man finally walk out of the bedroom. His disheveled appearance still looked way too good for your own eyes.

Your fingers found their way to your blouse— giving him a sweet smile. Only halfway through, you were damn thankful for picking a good bra for today. "Baby, I'm really sorry.." You whispered. And finally— your breasts were in full view of his sight. Nothing could have prepared you for the feral Tōru ravishing you!

The man was full on groping your breasts, even fiddling with those buds.. was he really that turned on? You couldn't believe you've let him play with you like this. On the tips of your heels— you needed more friction down there, too. So you whined at him, how your cunt needed his fingers too! And that's what he did, dipped them into your soaked panties.

"Fffuck— that's not fair, babe.. yknow your boobs and pussy are my weakness..!"

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

55 / 1.2k / first time meeting Ghost for medic reader

...

"Don't expect to be treated special," the skull-faced man tells you. " if someone needs patching, which is unlikely, don’t expect them to be a grateful patient." Ghost leads you through the halls, your medical bag slung over his shoulder. "And we don't care for small talk. Nor do we care how you do your job. Just do it. We don't care if you like us or not. Actually, I prefer you don't get any funny ideas about befriending me."

Is that all. Twenty minutes ago you arrived and already the Simon Riley so graciously rolls out the welcome wagon. You take it by the way he hefts your bag down that he's finished with his talk and you can get to work.

"That's perfectly fine," you tell him. Mildly, as if he didn't just tell you to mind your own fucking business in so many words. "Thank you. If you'll excuse me."

"I won't," he says. "The Captain tasked me with keeping an eye on you. Can't really do that if you walk away."

You halt and turn to peer at him. "I'm sorry?"

He doesn't even look at you. Instead, he begins casually cleaning an already shining knife. "Price told me to make sure you get nice and settled in. So I'm keeping watch."

Your jaw flexes. "Tell Captain Price I don't need a babysitter. You're dismissed."

He pauses The stare he gives you from behind that mask is halting. "You should really learn to be a bit more polite to your superiors. I don't take orders from you. If Price says you need supervision, I'm supervising."

"You're not my superior," you tell him. "And I'm not your recruit. I'm a contractor."

"Let me make one thing clear, medic," he growls. "Everyone on this base follows a chain of command, and that includes you. You might have a contract, you might not be a recruit, but on this team, you answer to the boss. And right now, he said I'm keeping an eye on you. So if you want to have words with me..."

He takes a step closer, leaning down to your eye level.

"I'd suggest you swallow them."

Even without the height difference, his gaze is like a physical weight. You stare back for a long moment. There's a challenge in those dark eyes, daring you to push him. He's looking for an excuse to put you in your place, and you know it.

You refuse to take the bait. Without saying a word, You turn your back and walk away, making your way toward the medical offices. He follows you, humming a tune and flipping the knife tip-first between his fingers.

If he wants to babysit, fine. It won't stop you from doing your goddamn job.

Days later, you're hard at work. It's near midnight. You've been on your feet for around 30 hours.

The door to the medical office slides open and Ghost walks in. It's clear from one look at him that he hadn't gotten any sleep either. He's been on a series of missions back to back for two days straight. With a deep sigh, he leans against the counter, arms folded over his chest.

"You're still awake?" he asks.

You glance at him. "You look like hell."

"Flattery will get you everywhere." His eyes sweep over you. He takes note of the dark circles under your eyes, the exhaustion clear on your face. It's obvious that you're just as tired as he is. "You've been at this too long. How long since you took a break?"

You look back down at your work. "Doesn't matter. There's still work to do."

He pushes himself off the counter and walks over to you. His footsteps are heavy on the floor. "This how you take care of yourself? Work until you pass out?"

"What's it to you? I do my job."

"You work yourself to exhaustion, you won't be able to do jack shit." He's now standing directly behind you. He looks down to see you're doing inventory of the medical supplies. He glances at how fast your fingers move, how you never stop. It's obvious that you're pushing yourself.

"I know what I'm doing."

"You're going to goddamn kill someone."

As you scan the list, you notice the tremors in your hands. Damn it.

"You have no room to talk." You turn around to stare him down so you don't have to keep seeing your own hands shake. Up close, he looks even worse. Christ, is that blood?

"Sit down," you command. "You're bleeding. You need a checkover."

He gives a deep sigh, tired. "S'not necessary."

He's downplaying the situation. Typical. But he does as he's told, sitting down on the exam table in front of you. There's no use trying to hide injuries from a medic.

You lift up the underside of his t-shirt to find the long cut stretching across his chest underneath. It was bandaged--though not well, and it's bleeding through. It isn't a life-threatening situation, but it'll need stitches, and it's definitely not the nothing he made it out to be.

"Hold this," you tell him, putting his shirt hem in his hand. "Keep still."

He winces. Despite his best efforts to hide the pain and discomfort, it's clear that it's more than a minor injury. He takes the shirt as instructed, holding it out of the way. He watches you in silence as you work, studying your focused expression and the methodical way you tend to his wound. You're not gentle by any means. But you're efficient. Even if it is annoying to have you fussing over him.

Though your work is hampered by your shaking hands and you're obviously frustrated about it. Your movements aren't as deft as they should be--not as quick as your eyes.

"Stay still," you snap.

"I'm not moving," he responds through gritted teeth.

Despite his best efforts to stay stoic, he frowns under his mask. Being patched up, sitting still and letting himself be tended to isn't something he's used to. Still, you're clearly in worse shape than he is. Somehow. His eyes dart from the sutures in his chest to your face.

You finish as quickly as you can. You know you've caused him unnecessary pain with this repair. But he shouldn't have gotten himself hurt in the first place. The cure should be more bitter than the cut, as far as you're concerned.

When you've snipped away the excess thread, you take a deep, slow breath, and it feels like whatever energy you had left escapes with it. You touch the stitches stretching across his pectoral muscle lightly. It jumps with the sudden tenderness. Then you apply a new bandage.

"There," you mutter. "Don't let it happen again."

"I don't plan on it." He scrutinizes your face again. Exhaustion and fatigue are etched into every feature. You're running on fumes. "You'd better go rest."

"Whatever happened to not caring about how I do my job?"

"Medic," he warns.

"I'm going," you mutter. "Don't you report this to Price again. I'm going."

"That's what I thought." He smooths his shirt down. He hides a smirk and rubs the aching stitches. "Don't let it happen again."

...

more Ghost / masterlist tag

[standfortheangels]

✨️🌸💙 SEND THIS TO TEN OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL. KEEP THE GAME GOING ✨️ 🌸💙

I KNEW THIS WAS REAL! THIS HAS BEEN IN THE AETHER OR SOMETHING WTF?

Get this.

I woke up one morning and saw this and smiled, but I was super sleepy so I decided to come back to it later that day.

I came back later, but, inexplicably.. no ask. I was a little like, 'aw.. I guess I dreamt it. :( but it was so real, I could have sworn... ', but, there was no ask there, so, what else could I think?

Today, I decided to do a clearout of the inbox, so I took a look on my phone to see what I had to get through. If you think I looked and suddenly this ask was there, it wasn't! Nothing unexpected at all.

Later, I go on through my laptop.

I saw only the exact same asks I saw earlier through the app. Nothing unexpected yet again.

Until I scrolled down, and saw a spam video submission that I hadn't seen on the app. Reported it as spam. Refreshed the inbox, AND HERE THIS IS!! Sat right at the top, just the way I remembered it from that morning.

So I have no idea what tumblr is doing or Why this ask got disappeared and suddenly reappeared like that, at all...

but, it did make me smile a lot that sleepy morning. So, thank you, really~ ;w;

[dietcokegirly12]

“Torturous Intent”

featuring nikolai gogol (Φ‿‿Φ)

─── ⋆⋅ 𓉸 ⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ 𓉸 ⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ 𓉸 ⋅⋆ ──

art credit: @gorimarus

─── ⋆⋅ 𓉸 ⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ 𓉸 ⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ 𓉸 ⋅⋆ ──

dead dove do not eat!! this one is a lil dark!

tags: bondage, sexual torture, restraints, interrogation, psychological manipulation, power imbalance, teasing, edging, dubcon, corruption kink, fingering, unprotected sex, coercion, dark themes, etc. etc.

word count: 2.2k

KINKTOBER OCT. 23 ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖𓉸ִֶָྀི ִֶָ་༘ ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪

───｡‧˚ʚ 🂱 ɞ˚‧｡─── ｡‧˚ʚ 🂱 ɞ˚‧｡─── ｡‧˚ʚ 🂱 ɞ˚‧

"You know what would be fun, Fyodor?" The white haired man in front of you giggled manically, looking down at your slumped form on the floor, arms chained behind your back. "Fucking this pretty little thing until she talks about who she is, and what she wants."

"Do what you wish with her," Fyodor's cool Russian accent floated through the air eerily, waving his hand dismissively as his footsteps began to retreat. "I leave the rest to you."

You had been caught by the Decay of Angels, a terrorist organization made up of several Gifted individuals whose plan it was to eradicate the world as it is, using a page from a reality altering book. You, an undercover member of the Armed Detective Agency, had been tasked with getting more info, stealing the page back to prove the Agency’s innocence, and ultimately save the world but things had clearly gone astray.

What you failed to take into account was how secure the Decay of Angels base was, and how overpowering all of the members truly were.

Fyodor, who you believed the smartest in the group, somehow managed to sense your arrival, and sent his little minion, Nikolai after you, who you were unable to escape from due to his ability, The Overcoat, which allowed him to teleport and open portals to draw his victims into.

Which is how you found yourself here. Your hands chained behind your back, and restrained on the floor, staring up defiantly at the now lone man who stood in front of you.

He crouches down close to you, one long finger coming to toy with a strand of hair falling into your eyes. “So little dove, gonna talk? Or am I just gonna have to make you?”

“Fuck. You. And your stupid organization. The Detective Agency is going to stop all of you, and when they do, you’ll regret this.” You snarl out.

Nikolai stands back up, and simply laughs, delighted by your response. “Well. Guess we have to do this the hard way, then!”

He suddenly yanked your feet toward him, and with a surprising amount of force managed to pin you down, your legs spread. You tried to squirm, but he held you down firmly, and before you could blink, had your legs chained apart.

“What..”

“Now, I believe I asked you a question, dove.” he practically purrs, his hands coming up to grip your thighs tightly.

Nikolai was his name. You didn’t know much about the elusive man, except his ability, and that his reason for joining the Decay of Angels was to achieve total freedom.

You hated him, his ideals, and everything he stood for. How could somebody do those things to innocent people, and kill so many for such a stupid goal?

But now, as he stood in front of you, grinning wolfishly, his white braid swinging down by his face, and striped pants showing off an impressive bulge, you couldn’t help the heat that spread over your body at being in such a compromising position.

They had already stripped you of clothes to ensure you didn’t have any weapons or devices strapped to you, so you were dressed in nothing but a thin pair of panties, your chest bare.

"Tell me everything." His hands slide farther up, reaching dangerously close to the warmth between your thighs, already seeping arousal.

"I..." You swallow, your eyes flicking up to his. "I won't! You can't make me!"

His lips curve up. "Oh really? Is that a challenge? Because I love challenges!"

You gasp as in one swift tug, he pulls down your panties, exposing your dripping cunt to him.

"Oh?" He giggles in delight. "I didn't realize you were this wet already, doll. This is going to be easy."

He gently cups your entire pussy in his hand, making you inhale sharply, automatically trying to squeeze your legs around his hand, but to no avail, the chains rattling slightly.

One expert finger comes to tilt up your chin, his scarred eye boring into yours. "Last chance to answer the question before things get rough for youu.." he says in a sing-song voice, his hand squeezing slightly tighter around you for emphasis.

You gulp, trying to keep your composure. The Detective Agency had trained you for this, had warned you of his tactics, and you weren't going to give in so easily. "No."

His grin widens. "Well, if you insist." And with one motion, a lithe finger plunges into you, immediately curling upward to hit your sweet spot, making your mind instantly go blank as a harsh moan leaves you.

"Now, are you from the Guild?" He watches you carefully, his thumb ghosting over your clit before pressing lightly.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to ignore him, but unable to stop him, or even move, completely spread out for him to see and touch.

"Hm?" he leans closer to you, his warm breath tickling your neck as he slowly begins to add another finger, stretching you.

"What about.." he scissors you with his perfect, long fingers, hitting places you've never been able to reach before. "the Port Mafia?"

You cry out a soft moan in response, trying to shift to open your legs wider, feeling yourself getting closer to release.

He giggles at this, continuing his movements even faster than before. "No, I know, I know. You're from The Detective Agency, aren't you?" With that, he presses his finger harshly to your clit, eliciting a soft whimper from you.

Delighted, he presses harder. "Yes?"

He begins to pump his fingers in and out of you, lewd squelching sounds ensuing as he also applies pressure to your throbbing clit.

Just as white-hot pleasure begins to creep up, white dots spotting your vision as your tummy coils, tightening up around him, he slips his fingers back out, leaving only a painful throbbing behind.

You gasp softly for breath, shaking by this point as you squirm, desperately needing more for the pulsing in between your plushy thighs. "Nikolai.." you beg.

He cocks his head mockingly. "Tell me, and this can all be over, little dove."

You simply stare at him, tears beginning to brim over your lash line.

He tsks softly, shaking his head. "Wanna play games, huh? Too bad for you because I happen to have quite a talent in them."

─── ⋅ 🃖🃁🂺 ⋅ ───⋅ 🃖🃁🂺 ⋅ ───⋅ 🃖🃁🂺 ⋅ ──

It's been hours and you still wouldn't talk.

Nikolai had begun to get restless, very worked up by your soft pleads and whimpers, though he wouldn't show it.

"Just tell me, baby." his voice is ragged, breathing slightly strained, and through your hazy vision, blurred by tears of overstimulation and pent-up tension from your muscles contracting, you see a very large tent straining against his striped pants, pre-cum beginning to seep through, and leave a damp, wet patch across the front.

"Tell me, and I can give you what you want."

By this point, all your muscles are numb and completely sore from the constant straining against your cuffs making you unable to move or flinch away. Salty tears crust on your cheeks, and sweat covers your entire body in a slight sheen.

He had replaced his fingers with a vibrator, the low hum the only sound in the cool, damp room, as your sensitive bud throbs dully.

Every now and then, he'd turn it up, high enough for you to feel the very tips of your pleasure spreading through your body, but having become accustomed to your tell-tale signs by now; the slight scrunch of your eyes, the way your moans get pitchier, and you ever so slightly try to grind your hips up, retracts it immediately, leaving you an unsatisfied mess.

More excruciating minutes tick by, and he continues questioning you, not stopping the relentless buzzing against your puffy clit.

"What possible group could it be that you're this loyal to, hm? What do they do for you?"

"It's n-not.. ah.. about that. It's about working for the right side, being morally correct."

You can't stifle the soft sobs and whimpers wracking your body, and seeming to take pity for a moment, he puts the vibrator to the lowest setting, pausing to tilt his head. "Are you truly happy in the organization you work for? Or do you just do it to feel like you're on the right side?"

You move your head side to side, shuddering softly. "F-fuck, I j-just want to be on the side that makes a difference in the world, you know? That changes it in s-some way."

His face seems to alight with curiosity at that. "Both sides have the capacity to change the world, but neither is completely good or completely evil. They have different purposes, but ultimately both sides have to do terrible things for their beliefs. Wouldn't you agree, dove? Hm? Just how many people have you killed on your journey to righteousness?" He says the last word like an insult, curling his lip maliciously and beginning to straighten himself up to leave, humming softly.

You truly can't take it anymore, the torturing, the constant stimulation, it's all too much. And now you're questioning your beliefs, your morals, all because of this stupid man, if you could even call him that. The worst part of it all was that he was partly right about some of it. You had killed people, lots of them at that. So could you really consider yourself working for a good organization? And in the end, did it really matter?

"Wait!" You call out desperately, as you scrabble against the chains holding back your weak body.

He turns back, his lips curving up sadistically.

"The Detective Agency! I work for The Detective Agency! They sent me here to steal the page back! At one time, I enjoyed w-working for them. But now.. I-I don't know." You whimper softly, your eyes fluttering pathetically as tears slide down your cheeks. "A good agency wouldn't leave me here to suffer, r-right?"

Instead, you feel his fingers graze your cheek, cool to the touch. "That's right. See, that's all you had to say. Good girl." He stands up again, and you panic, thinking that was all you're going to get, but instead he begins to push down his striped pants enough to reveal his flushed cock, pearly pre-cum beading out of the tip. He wasn't very thick, but he was long. So long, that you involuntarily whined at the thought of him being inside you, prodding all your sweet spots, and giving you what you craved so desperately.

"Eager, are we?" He presses himself on top of you, his cock leaking all over your stomach before he lines himself up against you, nudging slightly at your entrance. After being edged for so long, you're practically dizzy at just the feeling of his mushy tip barely pushing into your sensitive, puffy cunt.

In one fluid motion, he fully sheathes himself deep inside you, all the way to the hilt, the stretch filling you so deliciously, you try to suck him deeper, greedily taking every inch.

He groans softly at how tight and soft you are around him, the feeling of you so pathetically weak and helpless in his arms, reduced to a mere shred of yourself as you willingly give him everything you have, making him desperate to take more, more, more, until there's nothing left.

He begins a quick pace, his thrusts as spontaneous and jarring as he is, the length of him managing to hit that spongy spot inside you that has you arching and squirming as much as you can while restrained.

After being on the verge of cumming for hours, it doesn't take more than three thrusts of his long cock pressing sweetly into you for you to finally release around him, your warmth soaking and fluttering around his cock, sobbing with relief.

As you lay a boneless heap on the floor, he continues thrusting into you steadily until the warmth and twitching of you is too much for him to bear, his soft cries echoing as he finishes, spurting warm cum deep inside your walls, filling you up completely, some beginning to seep out of your abused cunt.

As your chest heaves, his body still pressed tightly against you, he pauses.

"Would you like to join the Decay of Angels, as my subordinate?"

You stare at him, bleary and submissive, fully broken underneath him.

"You could act as a double agent for us, going back to the Detective Agency and gathering intel. Hm? What do you say?" He excitedly peers down at you, noticing a hollowness in your eyes that wasn't there before.

"The Agency has never really cared for me. They care for the purpose, the cause of what we're doing, and they'll do anything to achieve it." You shift, looking up at him with wide, uncertain eyes. "Would you do that if I worked with you?"

"No, dove, I would never. This little torturing session was only to get a response. And please, call me 'kolya."

You sigh, your body soft against his as you mull it over. You turn back, your eyes slightly dull, and lacking the contempt righteousness that they had held before. "Okay, 'kolya. I'll join."

His lips curve ever so slightly up into a sadistic smile.

He was going to ruin you.

tagslist: (ask to be tagged!)@rosebluuod @sakui1 @snowsilver2000 @kissesmellow21

[reticent-writer]

Hellooo may I ask a headcanon of Muzan with a child reader, the reader has flower powers(meaning the reader can grow blue spider lilies) and when the hashiras knew about it, they decided to kidnap them? I wanna see what Muzan and the upper moons reaction would beeeee

◡̈⋆ʜᴇʟʟᴏ(●’◡’●)ﾉsorry for the wait

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

P1(current), P2, P3, P4, P5, P6

Blood demon art.

Muzan had assumed you didn't have one until one day you ran up to him with a blue spider lily.

"Papa. Papa! I made a flower. The flower you always talk about. I thought real hard and it popped out of the ground." You practically screamed at him jumping up and down. l He wouldn't be able to keep up with you if it wasn't for the flower in your hands.

He picked you up and examined the flower in your hands. He smiled, a smile that make you feel proud. There are very few times Muzan gives affection and right now is one of them.

You cherish this memory.

It's been a year since then and you've been helping your father making demons stronger.

Muzan had made a special room for you that looks like a flower field. Here you practiced your art or just hung out because it was peaceful. sometimes you wished to see an actual flower field but your father didn't want to risk it.

The demon slayers knew he had a child. Every attempt at taking you ending in failure.

"hey y/n I think you've made enough for today. You don't want to overexert yourself." Akaza came into your room, wary not to step on any flowers you made.

You turned to face him with a bouquet of blue spider lilies in your hand. "Okay I was just about to finish anyway. I wanna give these to father." You walked past him barely being able to hold up the flowers.

Akaza chuckled and took the flowers out of your hand. He took one out of the bundle and gave it to you for your 'hard work' as he said.

making it to your father (I'll leave it up to you where he is) Akaza kneeled and presented the flowers to your father.

"My dear y/n, you've done well." He patted you head. "Tomorrow is yours, do with it what you want." He dismissed you and Akaza.

"Akaza, Do you think that I can go outside tomorrow? Father said that the day was mine." You asked excitedly as you bounced around the demon.

"I don't think he will like that. No"

you already had your mind set though.

-----

sneaking out of the infinity castle was easy seeing as no one expected you to leave.

'Good, it's night time.'

Walking out of the abandoned village you wondered off into the forest not caring about the turns you took.

Walking for what felt like hours you catch a glimpse of purple flowers hanging on what seemed like a hotel. (Where tanjiro went with inosuke and zenitsu to heal)

Getting closer to the flowers you feel your lungs start to hurt. It developed into your vision getting blurry.

You tried to turn away but by then you body had enough. You passed out.

.

.

'Soft' was the first thing you thought when you gain consciousness.

You vision was now coming back into focus, looking around you saw that you were in a room with a small window at the top.

The sun was coming up.

Trying to scoot away from the deadly rays you notice the you are bound to the blanket wrapped around you.

You hands cuffed in front of you with chains tight around the blanket you were in. Like a straight jacket you couldn't move freely.

"What are we going to do with it?"

"Turn it in obviously we can't have muzan's child walking freely."

You heard voices that got louder as they approached you.

"Papa help please." You wimpered. You had no idea what could have happened to you.

*with Muzan*

Hearing your cry from deep in his mind he was enraged.

He assembled the upper moons.

"How on earth does my child get taken. Did any of you know where they were going or how they even get out?" He already knew the answer but he want them to say it.

"My apologies master. They asked to go outside but I never thought they would actually go." Akaza was sweating bullets just breathing in front of him right now. "I do whatever it takes to make it up to you."

"Then you, Akaza, will go get them. If even a hair on their head is out of place your punishment will be severe."

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　

Requests are now open. I feel a lot better now　

500 follower special ideas

[darknight3904]

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕽𝖆𝖈𝖊

ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ᴏᴄ! ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ / ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ /ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

Rhaella is now 15, Aemond 14. Also, I've aged Benjicot Blackwood up he is now 16 in this fic.

130 AC

"I do not see why I must dress like this." Rhaella sighs, pulling at her dress, the corset is suffocating her.

"You are nearing the age to be wed. It is important you look your best." Edric says, "Stop fussing"

"I feel like I am being squeezed to death!" She whines as he hooks his arm with hers.

"It is only for the evening. Then, you will be able to wear your normal gowns." Edric says

"You speak so confidently, it is obvious you have never worn something like this." Rhaella groans

Maester Edric chuckles and gestures to his robe and chain.

"Forgive me, I'm not wearing a corset under all this. Although you never know."

Rhaella lets out an unlady like snort as they walk towards the throne room. King Viserys was hosting a ball, he had said it was just to celebrate his own rule, The queen had told her what it truly was. A way to meet suitors, after all she'd need to create an heir for Runestone. Rhaella hated the idea of marriage. She didn't want to leave the Red Keep and take her castle. Why couldn't Gerold rule for her? She wanted to stay here in the Capital with Aemond, swimming and reading until they fell over from exhaustion.

The ball is as grand as anyone could imagine. Lively music played as guests approached the high table to greet their king and his family. Viserys made a point to show Rhaella every eligible man who presented himself to her. Most of them were boring, all complimenting her beauty or here dress, one of them surprised her and had spoken a greeting in High Valyrian. Of course, he couldn't speak anything other than that greeting and she was left disappointed again.

"You remind me of Rhaenrya as a girl. Always quick to dismiss suitors without a second thought." Viserys says as some golden haired Lannister leaves them.

"Well they're all, twats." Rhaella says

"They are of the great houses of Westeros." Viserys says with a chuckle, "Some of them truly are twats though. Especially that last fellow."

Rhaella looks at Aemond who sits near his mother, Heleana on his left and Daeron on his right. If Aegon hadn't been present, Rhaella was sure he'd be the most bored at the table.

"Are there many more?" She whsipered, leaning towards Edric.

"A few, My Lady." He says sympathetically, "Perhaps you might dance with one, the night will go quicker."

"So they ask me boring questions? I'd rather let Sōna eat me." She laughed

"That might be less painful than a dance with some of them. I believe the Baratheon boy is drunker than even Aegon himself tonight." Edric says looking over at a very drunken first cousin of Lord Baratheon . The Lord of Storms End is trying to rouse his relative who is down for the night. At least Aegon's eyes were still open.

"My King." A voice greets, "My Lady."

"Lord Blackwood." Viserys greets

Rhaella turns her head, expecting another old man, or perhaps even an ugly young child who'd rather be playing with toys than greet the King. Instead, she was met with a tall and slim young man, short black hair sat atop his head, messy with curls.

"Lady Rhaella, I heard you claimed Sōna. I have heard tales that she is a marvelous beast, white as the winter snows from Winterfell." Lord Blackwood says

"She is magnificent, My Lord. Truly a marvel to see." Rhaella smiles, its the first compliment she's received all night that's not about her hair or beauty.

"If you ever have a chance, perhaps you can visit Raventree Hall. I'm sure she'd enjoy Blackwood cows as a treat. I'd love to see Dragonfire with my own eyes." He says

"Yes, that would be nice." Rhaella smiles

What an odd man, suggesting she visit his home to feed her dragon cattle. It was surely a different attempt at courting.

"Benjicot Blackwood, he's the young Lord of Raventree. A good match but his feud with the Brackens would drive any sane person mad." Edric says to her as Lord Blackwood goes back to his table.

"He is the only man close to my age in this hall tonight, and the only one who made interesting conversation." Rhaella points out looking at the room filled with older men and children alike.

"He suggested killing cows with your dragon as a form of entertainment." Edric says, looking Rhaella with questions in his eyes.

"It is better than talking of golden lions with the Lannisters." Rhaella says

"You are correct, my Lady." Edric smiles

Aemond could not believe what was happening in front of him. Rhaella, who had been dismissing suitors all night long with rude look or a comment was dancing with one of them. Benjicot Blackwood was twirling her around the floor like they were already wed and getting ready to celebrate for the next three moons.

"You are turning as green as mother's dress, Aemond." Aegon teases

"Ignore him." Heleana advises looking over at Aegon who shoves a bite of food into his mouth.

Rhaella's red and gold gown glitters under the lights of the many candles that light the room. Her silver hair is tied back, showing off how her face has sharpened over the years, baby fat falling away to give way to piercing Valyrian features. Aemond can feel his eye twitching with anger. Truly there was no reason for his current mood, there was no reason to be jealous over a single dance. Perhaps she was just being polite to Lord Blackwood.

It is when she tosses her head back to laugh at something he has said that Aemond cannot take it anymore.

"Mother, I want to leave. Am I dismissed?" He says, looking at his mother.

Queen Alicent lets out a sigh and gives him a nod.

"Straight to your chamber. I don't want you out with Vhagar now." She gives him a look

"Fine." Aemond conceeds, how did she know he was going to try to go for a nightime flight? A mother's intuition perhaps.

Rhaella laughs again as he's leaving. She leans in to whisper something to that idiot Benjicot as his hands are resting on her waist.

How disgusting.

Aemond hopes they both trip and fall face first into the pie that's being served to the guests. Maybe that would teach that barbaric Blackwood a lesson.

Rhaella finds Aemond the next day scowling in his chambers rather than in the training yard with Criston Cole.

"Are you sick?" She asks when she sits at the end of his bed

"I'm fine." Aemond grumbles

"Then why are you not training? Or at least meeting me in the Library like we usually do?" She questions

"I'm tired. Go away." Aemond groans, pulling his blankets over his head.

He had always been one for dramatics.

"You are acting like a spoiled child. What is wrong? Tell me." Rhaella commands, grabbing the covers and ripping them off him.

Aemond lets out a shout of dissaproval when he's exposed to the sunlight hits his eye.

"You haven't even dressed yet?" Rhaella asks looking at his night clothes "It is past noon!"

Rhaella's eyes are caught on Aemond's eye which is not covered by his eye patch. The sapphire that she had heard whispers about in the Keep was mesmerizing. He hadn't let her see his wound since he lost the eye.

"Don't you have somehwhere to be? A dance with Lord Benjicot Blackwood perhaps?" Aemond asked

Was that what all this was about? Surely Aemond wasn't jealous?

"Lord Blackwood is preparing to return to his home today. I do plan to see him off, but not if you are lying here, like some...self pitying...fool." She says

"I'm not a fool." Aemond says

"Then why are you acting like one?" She asks

Aemond suddenly sits up, Sapphire eye catching the bring sunlight that streams into his chamber. He's staring right at her and Rhaella suddenly feels nervous under his gaze.

"You can say goodbye to him, only if you promise to fly on Vhagar with me." He says

"What do you plan to do if I say no? Lock me up?" Rhaella rolls her eyes

"If I have to." Aemond jests

"I'd scream." Rhaella agues

"I'd gag you." Aemond declares

Rhaella huffs a sigh of frustation, Aemond was a wearisome individual today.

"Fine. One flight. But you're not allowed to let me fall off her." She agrees

Truthfully the idea of flying on Vhagar had always terrified her. That large of a beast taking to the sky was mortifying to her.

"Maybe I'll push you off." Aemond says, tone serious.

Rhaella shoots him a look, letting him know his joke has not been well received.

"Maybe I'll push you off and claim her for myself." Rhaella says

"I'd like to see you try." Aemond smirks

Next part

Guys I almost forgot Daeron was like...a thing so I had to mention his existence. Anyway, I love Bloody Ben so I had to give him a little cameo. Also when was HBO going to tell me that he's 12 during the dance? He is a whole child. Anyway, I've aged him up quite a bit here so its not as weird.

Also, whoever made this, they genuinely had me laughing on Pinterest...

Poor kid Aemond...

Comment below to join the taglist. (The taglist is not by chapter, once added, you will remain there unless you ask to be removed.)

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[noveauskull]

hihi, can i please request ur opinions on why the wuwa men would cheat, and how likely they are to cheat ? ty ! <3

WUWA MEN WHEN THEY CHEAT ON YOU [WHAT???]

JIYAN:

HIGHLY UNLIKELY

Possible Reason:

He is way too sweet to be a cheater

Look at him and tell me you see a cheater in him, you just can't

He has a sort of, traditional mindset you can say

So if he ever feels like the relationship you two have isn't working out, then he'll let you know

But he'll make it work and ask you for your co-operation

But cheating will never cross his mind even once

Conclusion:

Loyal to you and his job as a General

-----

SCAR:

SO UNLIKELY IT KILLS

Possible Reason:

NONE

He was head over heels for you ever since he laid his eyes on you

WHY WOULD HE CHEAT ON YOU?

The only cheating he'd be doing is making an AI chat of you and talking to them more than you

Literally he's obsessed with you and you need to pick up on his behavior cause it KILLS him whenever you think he has the balls to cheat on you

Him cheating is so unlikely you'd consider him talking to another person with the same gender as you weird

His eyes are on you only, remember that

Conclusion:

Cheating is not in his dictionary

-----

YUANWU:

NOT HAPPENING

Possible Reason:

He's way too much of a gentleman to do that, really

Like look at him, do you REALLY think he'd cheat on you?

Though there was a time where he got kissed by someone that apparently had a crush on him

He didn't have the heart to hit them off of him but it did bother him a lot that he had to keep it from you

Only to not hurt your feelings of course

You'd find out when that same person came up to you and told you that they gave your man's a huge smooch on the face

You're raging but it's on you to decide if Yuanwu's guilty or not

Conclusion:

He has some crazy fans

-----

CALCHARO:

HE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT THAT IS

Possible Reason:

He knows how to be loyal, he's a literal human dog

If he ever cheats on you, it's because you weren't a nice "owner"

But thats impossible because you're always treating him like a jewel

How jewels are treated: always shown off, makes sure they are polished and being seen, taken care off in ever edge, shines bright

If he finds out you two dont have good chemistry then he WILL forget about you in an instant

So be nice, his eyes will always be on you and for you

Conclusion:

As loyal as a dog

-----

MORTEFI:

YOU'RE KIDDING

Possible Reason:

What do you mean "Possible reason"? There's literally none

He thinks cheating is gross, and he's a man that knows what he wants

Literally, he dated you cause he wants you and only you, and his mind never changed ever since

He applies the same rules to you too, you cheat? You're gone.

The only time you thought he was cheating was when you saw a kiss mark made from lipstick on his collar

It was your lipstick. You kissed him this morning and forgot about it

Anyways cheater Mortefi? Yeah he exists in your dreams only.

Conclusion:

Don't be stupid

-----

AALTO:

SORTA LIKELY

Possible Reason:

This is sad but he would cheat on you, and the reasons doesn't help either

He didn't want to hurt your feelings, but lately he doesn't feel the same spark with you anymore

Sometimes he feels like he can't be himself with you

So he hangs out with other people, and he sort of got the feeling it could be cheating since he spends more time with others than you

But he dismisses it for his own little fantasy

Though his cheating doesn't involve anything intimate with anyone

Just talking to others like they're his partner instead of you

Conclusion:

It's cheating. But he's respectful of you and will tell you to break up (when he's ready)

-----

GESHU LIN:

RIDICULOUS

Possible Reason:

AS IF

He would LITERALLY CHAIN HIMSELF to the bed just to prove a point

Even if he wanted to, he has no interest in moving his body to do so

He's super straight forward too, so he'll just tell you he wants to break up if he wants to

But he doesn't, he literally wants you by his side forever

If you ever think he's cheating? You're delusional

Did you mistook a dream of yours to be real life? Cause it looks like it

Conclusion:

Loyal to you like he is loyal to traumatizing Jiyan

-----

A/N: Idk if I wanted to do this request cause it was difficult to imagine all these characters being cheaters, esp when they ALL ARE UNLIKELY LMAOO

but i made it work 😋 i continue on feeding everyones delusions on these boys as relationship material

[lorelune]

hell is a hound without a chain

|| blade x gn!reader || M || yandere wolf hybrid blade || wc: 3.8k  || ao3 ||

A bite is quite a burden.

minors, antis, and ageless blogs dni

a/n: folds hands man ... hybrid blade is sure something. i chewed on this au for a minute because truly hybrid blade is such a flavor. a toothy one. enjoy loves!!

CW: dark content, hybrid AU, wolf hybrid blade, yandere blade, reader is not a hybrid, biting, claiming bites, caretaking, victim blaming, injured reader, references to reader drinking casually

You ache.

Your neck hurts.

It’s hurt for the past few days, and you imagine it will continue to hurt for the next several weeks, considering that Blade is not allowing you to heal in any meaningful capacity.

You sit on the bathroom counter, a bit teary-eyed, with Blade standing between your legs. A scented candle sputters on a small shift. Blade’s tail swishes. Annoyed. Ears twitching and jaw locked. There’s a first aid kit open beside you and it's running low on gauze and antibiotic ointment.

You sniffle as Blade pats at the wound on your neck. He’s being… gentle. For him anyway. The contact and disinfectant still sting and you hiss at the sensation and jerk away.  

Blade stills.  

"I’ll bind you again." His hand cups your jaw— too tightly. "Would you like to force my hand?"

"No, n-not really.” You sound pathetic. You want to cry. You probably will. "It hurts. I'm sorry."

Blade sighs but doesn't press you. He trades the disinfectant for a slather of ointment and prepares a gauze pad. The piece he cuts is larger than normal. It’s the size of his palm. You suppress the urge to feel for the wound on your neck and check its size and depth. You haven't gotten a good look at it yet. Judging by the red stain soaking down the front of your shirt, it’s a worse wound than normal. 

Blade has made it a routine to freshen the bite mark on your neck at least once a week. He always sinks his teeth into the same spot while other, less severe marks decorate your throat and shoulders (and chest and stomach and thighs, but those are easier to dismiss.) The mark he worries the most, the one that you know he associates with some animalistic claim, is on your side, broken flesh splitting where your neck meets your shoulder.

...

You first... 'earned' it after leaving Blade to his own devices for a weekend. 

It was just a beach trip with a few friends. Kafka encouraged it— you needed to stretch your legs. ‘Bladie’ as she so affectionately referred to your hybrid, was more than capable of taking care of himself. He was doing so long before you came into the picture and formally offered your home up to him. Besides, he’d had several months to settle into your home, hadn’t he? Kafka goaded you into accepting a “well-deserved” break. Himeko seemed... hesitant about the arrangement at the time. She warned that hybrids can get a bit prickly about being left alone, even if they are independent. 

("They tend to hold grudges.")

The trip was a mistake. 

It had been a lovely weekend. Kafka had thrown her card down for a beachside cabana at a resort. Drinking sweet fruity cocktails, lounging in the sun, and generally relaxing. It was... nice to be out and not worried about Blade. He knew where you were. He had a phone with an internet connection that he knew he could use, and he didn't bother to contact you. You figured he was enjoying the break from his typical vigilance. Perhaps he was enjoying not having an owner to stalk around and guard.

You were wrong. Wildly.

The moment you arrived home (you hadn't even set your bags down—), Blade was on you. Pressed into your own door, he growled and spat that you smelled “wrong”. You asked him what he meant— you nervously joked you could take a quick shower and make dinner. Whatever he wanted. Your voice had trembled, and your breath had started coming too quickly. 

His gaze pierced you a moment later, a growl ripping from his mouth, lips curling back. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the way he grabbed your jaw, jerked your head to the side, and buried his teeth in your neck. He covered your mouth with his palm when you screamed. Muffled any shout or cry for help. You knew Blade was strong, but you hadn't ever realized how strong. You were immobilized between him and his teeth and the door.

By the time he withdrew and lapped at the wound he'd made, you were sobbing, scrambling to get away, run, shut yourself in your room, and try to figure out how the fuck to handle this situation—   but Blade hadn't let you far. He cleaned the wound first with his tongue, then a damp rag, then dressed it properly as has become routine. He carried you to bed and curled around you. Arms locked around your waist, legs tangled. It would’ve been sweet if he was your lover.

(But, he is not. He is a wolf you foolishly allowed into your home.)

The reality of your situation began to sink in then. Slowly. Bit by bit. 

Blade freshens the bite about once a week, give or take. If he's feeling antsy, it's less. If you're more compliant, more tethered to home, or dare to take him in public with you, he leaves it alone. Allows it to almost heal before digging his canines into the rapidly thickening layers of scar tissue.

It's awful of him, but you don’t think he'll ever stop now that he's intent on marking you. You had been stupid to think of yourself as anything other than a claim to him, hadn't you?

A few tears drip down your cheeks as Blade secures the dressings. He dabs them away with the side of his finger, careful not to scratch you with his blackened claws. He brackets you in on your sides. He tips his forehead against yours and deflates.

"Bed," he says. It's something akin to a request. He'll take you there, anyway, but being given a warning feels like a luxury.

"Okay." Your voice is quiet. Scratchy from shrieking against his palm less than an hour before.

Blade scoops you up and ferries you to bed. He pauses to throw an extra blanket onto his... nest (even if it's on your bed). It’s a quilt he favors, worn through but soft. His preference for it would be endearing under different circumstances. 

He runs a hand through your hair, trailing his touch down to the wet collar of your shirt, “You need to change. You’re dirty.”

As is routine, he pulls your shirt off as you squirm. You lightly shove at his chest, if only to make yourself feel better. Resist a little for your own pride, despite knowing it’s useless. Your modesty doesn’t matter to Blade (not if it’s just him and you in the room. He’s permitted himself to your skin in the most non-traditional ways.) Regardless, you aren’t bare for long. He replaces your shirt with his own. It’s warm and too big. His frame is almost inhuman, and it gapes around your shoulders.

Blade cajoles you to the headboard and lets you fuss a bit along the way. He sits behind 

you and settles you between his thighs. The knit blanket is pulled over your lap and his arms wind around your waist, unyielding. Locking you there. Blade tucks his face into your neck on the... less injured side. He scents you there with a half-there growl. 

You rub at your puffy eyes. Your chest hurts.

"You need to rest." Blade tells you. He tells you this often. He's more in tune with your physical state than you are these days, so you appreciate the reminders. You feel half out of your body. 

"... Oh yeah?" you laugh, voice wobbly. "I should, huh? Don't I need to make dinner?"

"Unnecessary." Blade replies. He squeezes you. "You need to rest, first. I will prepare a meal."

"... Sure." Blade doesn’t do particularly well in the kitchen. "I can rest, then cook, okay? If you can wait that long? Otherwise, I can cook then rest later too—"

Then Blade really growls. It’s the kind that you feel between your ribs and makes you go stiff. His mouth opens, too hot against the fragile skin near your neck, and the points of his canines rest. Idle. You start to shake. 

"You will rest." Blade tells you. "I... went too harshly on you. You are weak. You need to rest. I will cook so you do not need to. I cannot guarantee that it will be any good, but you should not be on your feet."

You laugh. something rotten curls in your belly.

There’s care in the way that Blade speaks about you. He rarely speaks in such a forward way— it’s hard for him. You can hear how he struggles between certain words. How the sentences are harder for him to construct. The sentiment of care is not easy for him. This makes sense— as he is a wolf that has you in his jaws. There is not care in slaughter. An animal’s claim is just that. A claim. Baseless. Primal. A twitch that follows an instinct, maybe. 

Hearing him say things that could be kind makes you want to vomit.

You dig your nails into Blade's forearms. His hold constricts.

"Why would you care?" You snap. "Don't act like you give a shit about my wellbeing, as if you didn't just take a fucking chunk out of me."

It's the wrong thing to say. You know this. It’s better to not anger him. But it's hard to care when you’re this tired and worn down. Self-preservation is an afterthought. You feel spiteful, terrified tears burn your eyes. You wait for a wolf’s violence as Blade tenses and goes still behind you.

Preparing for the kill, you presume.

Instead, however, his mouth closes, and soft lips press into your throat. No teeth. No apparent ire. No mouthy attitude. And he stays quiet. Somehow drags you closer into the solid, warm line of his front. He is solid, maybe a little softer than when he first moved in with you. 

"My mark on you is protection, even if you do not realize it." Blade tells you. You figured as much, but it doesn't justify it. "Anyone who smells or sees you knows that you are claimed."

"Yeah, so everyone knows I've got some bully of a wolf at home, ready to tear my throat out?"

(You've read his file, you know he's capable of it.)

"I wouldn't." Blade's voice grates, low and angry. “I... I wouldn't. Not to you."

"If you say so."

"I mean it." He punctuates it with a kiss. He's half-hard against your lower back and you swallow. "I... I do not know how else to convey to you that you are cared for. That you are mine."

(You’re not sure you believe him. There are other, crueler ways he could. On your more anxiety-ridden nights, you’re grateful that Blade’s touch hasn’t strayed there. Never. He hasn’t ever touched you like that, with that part of him. Anything below your neckline is all teeth and tongue. Violence is his language of physicality, you've found. Pleasure he seems foreign to.)

"I'm yours?" You dig your nails in and his tail slaps the bed. good. You'll bear the consequences later. Best to get it all out of your system. "When did I agree to this?"

Blade thinks, for a moment. You doubt he'll be able to find when you did agree because you haven't.

"You allowed me into your home. Bed. I wear a collar with your name on it when I must leave this place." Blade tells you. His hand cups your chin, turning your face toward his, and his nails tease over your cheeks. "What did you think all of that meant?"

Your stomach drops. 

"... A kindness?"

“An offering." He corrects. He noses into your jaw, scenting again. His touch drifts under your soft shirt, resting over your tummy. "One that was accepted."

"Oh."

It hits you. All of it. Awareness is like being dunked in ice water, suffocating on it, and throwing it back up. Kafka had once warned you that hybrids think so differently from humans. You figured the differences would be... obvious. Easy to sort through.

You were, once again, so wrong.

You want to tell Blade that that's not what you meant. That you opened your home and heart because he was a beaten down stray who clearly needed a home— one where he was the only one of his kind. Where he had the attention he needed to thrive, and the space to do so too. That you signed your name on the necessary paperwork not as a proposition but as a gesture of care. 

In the same moment, you realize that even if you do tell all of this to Blade, it wouldn’t matter. This misunderstanding has been steeping for months beyond your control. You feel stupid. Foolish. So naive it hurts. There’s a bite mark dug into the flesh of your neck that will never really scar. If Blade can help it, it will never fully heal. You’ll bear it bloody... forever. 

“You smell wrong.” Blade huffs against your neck. He squeezes over your hips, rubbing little circles into the soft flesh.

Can he smell when you’re upset?

Probably. Blade always got particularly cagey when you would return home from the rare trip into the office. You were always exhausted, on edge, and overstimulated from a full day of endless everything. Blade would follow you around on those days, never letting you out of his sight. He’d wrap you up in blankets from his bed. Shove you in his clothes. Hand-fed you in his lap despite the fact his hands were too big and arthritic. 

Was that care? 

(So, so clearly.)

You don't realize you're on the verge of tears until you open your mouth to speak and nothing comes out but a wounded, awful cry. Like you're the pained animal and not Blade. 

"Hush." Blade tells you. He smooths your shirt— his shirt over your front, over your chest in a way that makes your breath hitch and squirm uncomfortably. He’s burning hot against your back. "You are safe. You can rest now."

Is that care?

Tears slip from the corners of your eyes. They’re angry, tired, and sad all at once. You try to suck them down the best you can.

Blade pulls you at you, sinking you into the sheets. He spoons you, flush against your back, hot and soft in all the ways that matter. You bury your face into your pillow when he runs a soothing, clawed hand up and down the back of your neck.

For a moment, you consider your options. It’s immediately overwhelming. Defeating. 

You know that there is nothing you can do about your position. You could rear up, slap Blade, and scramble for the door. There are organizations. Sections of government that handle situations like this. You might be able to get to your phone. At least text someone that things have gotten out of hand.

You also know that Blade would not allow this. He'd not allow you out of bed, let alone this room. He'd have you pinned, belly to the bed with a hand dug into your hair to brace you there. He'd let you squirm and kick and scream. He'd bruise you in return— leave his own marks. another set of molted hickeys across your shoulders.

He'd probably push at the freshly bloodied claim on your neck too. Never mind that he just patched you up. 

It's hopeless, and the knowledge hits you so hard that you feel winded. You scramble against the bed to grab onto the sheets, and you cry. It’s in your chest. You sob and cry so hard it hurts. The sounds you are making are ugly and broken. The feeling between your eyes is burgeoning into an acidic headache, and your mouth is somehow dry even as you get spit on the soft sheets. 

Despair is not beautiful. It’s toxic and infecting. 

Despite this, Blade does not move away. He is steadfast, and curls overtop of you. He hushes you with his simple, curt words and a low rumble in his chest that's hard to identify. It soothes something in your hindbrain you wish you could kill. His lips press into your hair. His touch is solid, bruising, but not maiming

Violence... shouldn't be comforting.

And yet— yet it is. When the tears come slower, and morph into hiccups as you desperately try and catch your breath, Blade... helps, you realize. His mane of hair spills over your face, like a curtain to darken the room. His hand slips to your front, under your shirt once more so it's his palm against the clammy skin of your chest.

"Breathe." He tells you. It's a command. "Like this."

His hand strokes up and down, in time with his own slow, deep breaths. There's the terrifying edge of his claws, blackened and sharpened, but they never cut in enough to gore. Only enough to remind you that they’re sharp— to maim, to protect— (what’s the difference to a wolf like him?) You're drained, and you can only follow his lead, sucking in breaths that become more steady with each one.

There's nothing left in you by the time you settle. You're wrung out, emptied and so tired. It's clarifying, maybe. As Blade pets you into sleep, you shakily bring a hand to press over the covered, weeping wound in your neck. A full moon of teeth marks. Even the light touch aches.

Blade nips at your hand, nosing it away. 

(How terrible, really. To be cared for by a beast who believes love and violence are one in the same. How terribly idiotic of you to not notice. How... cruel of Kafka for never connecting the dots for you. You’re sure she must’ve taken note, at some point, of Blade’s claim on you and its implications. She was once in your position, but knowing her own disposition, Blade never took her like he’s taken you.)

(Himeko probably noticed as well. But, she’s the type to only step in if she thinks she can make a difference. She has her own self-preservation in mind, and you can respect that. Mostly. Perhaps she saw Blade’s claim taking shape and realized that a Wolf’s bite is not something she had the claws to interfere with. She has her own hybrids to take care of. You ignored her words of caution in the beginning when she first offered them.)

(It’s hard to fault her.)

(And how can you fault Blade for his instincts? Perhaps you were too kind. You lacked caution— self-preservation— whatever you wish to call it. You put your own soft throat in the line of Blade’s bite. In retrospect, it’s frighteningly clear. It guts you. Over and over. The only thing that tethers you is Blade’s touch and breath against your neck. A reminder.)

(A reminder that you are his to tug and push and pull as he pleases. That he’ll leave bite marks where he desires, never to gore, but to show that you’re... protected.)

Isn’t there something alluring about that? 

It makes you shake all over again. It makes you muffle a fresh sob into your pillow and you beat your fists against the mattress. Blade lets out a growly word or two you can’t make out as he pins your wrists to the mattress.

It makes sense, now, why Blade always wanted to accompany you out on errands, if only to growl and bark at anyone who looked at you too long. You had thought he was just poorly socialized (partially true) — but he was snapping at strangers to make sure no one even thought of looking at you for too long. Let alone touch. Pursue. 

You have a hazy memory of a night at the cocktail bar. Kafka had asked you to come alone— ‘girls night’ again. Blade had given you the cold shoulder when you told him sheepishly that you’d be leaving him at home. Whatever alcohol dulls the memory, but you can recall Blade had thrown you over his shoulder the moment you had come home. You swayed and slurred your words and Blade looked ready to gut you. He threw you in bed, tore off the pretty dress that he had said was “far too revealing” and shoved you into one of his sleepshirts without listening to a single one of your protests. Your fighting and punching didn’t deter him— it didn’t make him any more aggravated. 

(“You’re stupid.” Blade had told you, roughly wiping a soft cloth over your face. Makeup smears on the fabric. “Why are you out in the dark? How did you get home?”

“... You’re silly. I took a cab.” You tell him with a frown. You bat at his ears and Blade grabs your arms with such force you’re scared they’ll break. 

“You’re reckless.” Blade had growled in your ear. “Do you know what you invite when you’re in this state?” 

“... A hangover?” 

Blade had stared at you, fuming. The next moment, his teeth were embedded in your neck and a pillow was shoved over your face as you wailed. Your vision swam as he pulled away, lips and chin smeared red. 

Blood stains his teeth as he drags you up by the collar, and spits— “Do you know how many men would eat you alive like this?”)

You realize now that there was an implicit— “And I’m not there to keep it from happening.”

There’s comfort in it. You feel disgusting, but the roiling behind your eyes is cut by how warm Blade is behind you. That he’s good at patching the wound on your neck, and attentive when you let him be. 

If you really can't escape Blade and your mutual incidental claim... maybe it could be okay. There’s some assurance that Blade will not gore you, only tenderly hurt for the sake of some instinct you will never feel, but are coming to understand. He is honest too. His words are solid. He is too straightforward to mince his words. They are never a riddle. There's safety in being underneath him as you are now. 

There's safety in him. You almost cry again. He'll hurt you but never rend apart into pulp as you know he could. He'll sink his teeth in but as a claim. His slaughter is accompanied by care— for you. Slaughter inflicted on others is instinctual violence born from different baser needs. It hits you, like a blow to the chest, that whatever brutality he could inflict on you, is only a fraction of what he would inflict for you.

"Oh," you say, so softly, as you realize. You feel foolish all over again. 

Blade makes a contented sound against your nape. Mouthing at you. His palm is settled at the base of your throat. "Your kind can be so slow. Now rest."

You laugh, blurting it out into your buttery sheets. There are specks of blood dotting the cream fabric, new and old. Fresh and faded. 

You'll have to restock your first-aid kit.

[jojotichakorn]

so, in the midst of me constantly thinking about and analysing phum, i didn't write that much meta on peem or really think about his reasoning too much. for a long while, i dismissed his slightly erratic behaviour as a response to phumpeem's initial meeting and how their relationship has been set up because of it, but this episode solidified the fact that that's not it.

instead, for whatever reason, peem is insecure.

the most damning piece of evidence for this, i think, does not involve phum at all (and that is exactly the reason why it's such good evidence). though the majority of this post will still be about phumpeem lmao.

so, when peem claims that there is nothing going on between him and phum, kluen says that means he still has a chance, which gives us this confused face:

nothing in the world could produce this reaction in these circumstances, aside from insecurity. kluen isn't phum. he and peem don't have any bizarre backstory together, and he is very direct about his romantic pursuit. he explicitly said he came to the camp to hit on peem in front of all his friends and he reiterated the sentiment by saying what he did in this scene. the only kind of person who would need a clarification, when things are laid out that clearly is a person who is insecure and therefore has a hard time being sure about the fact that someone likes them and/or is actively trying to hit on them.

now, onto the star of the show: phumpeem! what do we know about peem's pov of their relationship at this point? 1) he has fully admitted that he likes phum, to the point of literally calling himself out on even trying to deny it. 2) he is happy about the fact that he likes phum. we are leagues away from the possibility that he has any issues with phum or the fact that he has a crush on him, which we have so much proof of, whether it be him actively enjoying the fact that phum is trying to get his attention, him looking at phum as if he hung the moon and calling him prince charming, him literally giggling and kicking his feet at that memory the next day, him instantly forgiving phum because he genuinely trusts him and thinks he is a good person, even if he makes mistakes sometimes, or any of the other clear signs that he is enjoying what's going on between them, both in the moment and in retrospective.

and now, let's take a look at all the moments from today's episode through the lens of peem's insecurity in himself and security in his feelings / phum:

him acting a little weird and distant after hugging phum the whole night, very reminiscent of the way he acted the day after their first kiss. both times after moments when peem made the first move.

him acting genuinely confused about phum's behaviour towards kluen, despite getting a fairly clear confirmation that phum is jealous when he literally bribed a child to get peem away from kluen. this is definitely not a "what a weirdo" face, this is a "wait, what's going on here?" face. he does not get it.

him claiming there is nothing going on between phum and him, despite clearly wanting that something and being in the depths of the talking stage, which is definitely a real relationship stage to him, as that was how he described chain and toey to q.

him looking a little heartbroken, when phum says he wants to call off the deal, as if that would actually mean that they stop spending time together.

him confirming that that is indeed his fear, when he literally looks terrified at the prospect and fully asks to continue being phum's "slave".

him not being able to admit why he kept the flowers

or making up a lie about not having finished the painting, even though he definitely has, because he literally said so to his aunt.

and him answering a question with a question, needing to hear the fact that phum likes him directly first, before he confesses back. which, in all this context, just doesn't read as stubbornness.

all of this makes sense, if you consider the fact that peem is insecure and is afraid of reading into other people, when what he's trying to glean is their opinion of him specifically.

one big thing that he constantly repeats (this moment is far from the only time he says that in this episode alone) is asking phum to tell him what he thinks directly. mind you, unlike phum, who is just constantly deeply confused about everyone and can't take implications for shit, peem is actually absolutely incredible at understanding what other people's feelings are, even when they don't tell him directly, as long as the feelings in question aren't about peem.

he also manages those small bursts of confidence, like kissing phum first or reaching out to him, but they are not long-lasting and are often followed by bursts of denial and shyness, which is extremely common for someone who is insecure but also impressively brave.

and here is your key to pre-relationship phumpeem and the reason why we are on episode 10 and they are still not dating. insecure x insecure can be hard at times. they both need the other to outright state their feelings, and that is just not easy for either of them. but they are getting there. together 🫶

[murainhell]

Helluva Boss Spoilers!

The longer it's been since Full Moon was released, the more I think I like the fight. The writing and acting is incredible, they have done a fantastic job.

I know some people have taken my drawing as Blitzo being the one who acted wrong, while my friends think I'm blaming Stolas because I defend Blitzo when they complain about him. But no, I'm not taking sides. They are both wrong and at the same time right and their reactions are perfectly justified. They are two complex characters with complicated traumas that are clashing at the worst time. As a psychologist, I'm loving all of this. 

All of Stolas' opening dialogue is correct. You can tell he's been thinking about it for a long time, practicing, figuring out exactly what he wanted to say. That's great. The only problem is that when you practice a conversation, in your head nobody answers you. There were two possible outcomes, that Blitzo would say yes and they would see what happens after that together, or that he would reject him and there was no longer any reason to continue the conversation.

But Blitzo reacts in a way he didn't expect. Blitzo begs him not to change anything. “I can do better.”

The entire HB team has done a brilliant job of letting us feel Blitzo as a kid saying the same thing to his father. By now he is flooded by his own trauma. He doesn't accept the gift, he wants everything to stay the same. He wants the book, because:

It's something that works for them, it's something that is simple, why change it? Changing it is uncharted territory, and his past relationships have been complicated. But Stolas doesn't really know about those relationships.

Having the book is an excuse to see each other, it's a chain that binds them together as long as Blitzo needs it for his work. It means Stolas won't abandon him, they have a deal. But for Stolas that same tether is unbearable, because he knows what it's like to be tied down in a relationship, he's suffered the effects of that with Stella, and that means he's condemning Blitzo to the same situation, turning him into the monster he feels he is. But Blitzo doesn't really know that.

Believing it's a lie, a role-play, hurts Stolas, but how to blame Blitzo when he believes he's unlovable? He hates himself, how can Stolas be serious?

And I was hurt when Stolas said that for Blitzo it's always about sex... Bird boy, that's all he knows with you. And you know he thinks you're only there for the sex too, he tells you that in S1E7! Use your words to make him understand!!! 

But Stolas believes that everything he is witnessing is the answer. And he gives up. He's saying goodbye... ready to disappear from Blitzo's life, abandoning him when he can't give him what he asks for, when he's not enough. 

The reaction of both is understandable: Blitzo is ready for a fight (his way of communicating), he reacts poorly to the fact that Stolas is sending him out of his life because in the end he's confirming that rich people are like that, he's been a plaything for a while and now he's left behind; Stolas shuts down, he reacts poorly because he's been suffering yelling and hitting things and insults from Stella for years. 

And it breaks my heart. “Just look my way” Stolas, he's doing it. Blitzo is screaming and crying but he's looking at you. He's mad, but you just have to listen to him. Really listen to him. Because Blitzo has every right in the world to be upset, everything he says is true.

Stolas has dropped an emotional bomb on him, one he wasn't prepared for because in his head no one would want that with him. And then, without giving him time to process, to think, he's dismissing him.

He charges his fury at the social rift between them, but it's just that that difference has existed for as long as he can remember. Blitzo was sold to be a playmate for Stolas. Their relationship began within an abuse of power, where Blitzo sells his body for the book. Stolas is privileged enough not to have thought of any of that until now. It's not that he thinks badly of Stolas (although in his eyes, Stolas is confirming it by sending him away, he's a broken toy), it's facts. They need to put them on the table to grow. 

But Stolas is also within his rights not to listen when that's the tone he's using with him. He's using his coping mechanism to endure the fights with Stella. Blitzo is also confirming his worst fears; sending him away, removing that source of emotional damage he's suffering, is understandable, though by doing that he robs Blitzo of the opportunity to choose and make himself heard. 

Still, they needed this fight. Let's face it, they were not at all in a situation to start a serious relationship. They need it to know what they want, spend time without obligations and chains (as free equals) and to have space to have a real conversation. Because they don't talk, they don't have emotionally vulnerable conversations, where they can understand why the other is the way they are. 

I firmly believe they're going to figure it out. I believe in them. But we'll have to wait. In the meantime, don't hate any of them for reacting like complex souls.

Let's be Team Stolitz.

[raayllum]

scene of all time. to me

I'm gonna be circling back to Rayla and Callum's argument/talk over the dark magic use over and over again in the next 6ish months (if not years) so this is not all of it, but everything I feel ready to articulate right now. Let's go

First off we have Rayla's concern being at the forefront of her mind — dark magic almost seemingly killed him the first time, "it puts [his] life in terrible danger," she wants to protect him and doesn't want him to be hurt, etc. Callum tries to put moral qualms onto her (and we'll get to his in a second) and see if that's her reasoning, but Rayla doesn't take it cause she hit that turning point way back in 2x08 / 2x09.

I also think the framing of "Because it makes you vulnerable to the thing you're most afraid of" is interesting, because I don't really believe Callum when he agrees.

Between "I think deep down I knew, I just hoped if I didn't think about it" and "When you were under the ice I was so scared, I thought I was going to lose you like we lost her" and "I'm afraid that he'll use me [...] and hurt people I care about," I think what Callum is most afraid of is Ezran or Rayla dying. Full stop. After all, he was more unwilling to live in that reality than he was in one where Aaravos took him over.

Gonna talk about her asking why in a bit, wanna talk about Callum's outburst and dismissal first.

C: It doesn't matter. I did it, I'm ruined, it's too late for me, who cares?

He spirals hard with his anger and upset over everything, and you can tell by her face how worried she is. Even the fact that Callum looks away from her repeatedly in this scene, similar to how he avoided looking at her when she first came in 4x03, to have those emotional walls and distance up. It likewise makes me think of Callum insisting "There has to be a way to make it right" in 1x02 only for Harrow to inform him "No, it's too late for that". There's also some semblance of "well I made my choice so I'm just Like This now" that we saw/see from Viren (and Aaravos) as well, which of course isn't true, but that's how it feels. Why Callum is so adamant about this is another thing I'll get to in a minute.

But contrast the "I'm ruined" with Rayla's "you're a good person Callum, maybe the goodest" in a couple of episodes, and the "who cares?" when Rayla is right there, caring about him as he pulls a, well, her of sorts.

Then we have Rayla reaffirming for the 4th time that she wants to know why Callum would keep doing something that's dangerous, that hurts him, that puts him in terrible danger (almost like how she Leaves to protect him or uses herself as a shield constantly or something).

What is his 'good reason' (5x01) because the only thing that makes sense to her is that he'd have one? What could Possibly be worth that cost and level of risk to him, of the thing she believes he's scared the most of?

Wasn't the one she was expecting, we can say that much.

C: Finnegrin was going to kill you. I didn't have a choice, because... I would do anything for you.

Now, there's two ways to read the above line. You can read it as Callum trailing off in "I didn't have a choice, because..." his love for her compelled him to act, and there was no other option he was willing to consider. This best fits with the condensed/cut lines from Finnegrin's Wake of "It seems to me like love has a tighter grip on you than those chains around your wrists, so I'll do you a favour and set you free" where Callum could either lose Rayla but 'be free' or keep loving her and stay 'chained'. Then, "I would do anything for you" is a reaffirmation of how he feels and his vow of sorts to her. This is the one I lean towards if I had to pick definitively between them.

The second way we can read the line is "I didn't have a choice because I would do anything for you," which is that his capacity for the 'anything' removes his agency. This is definitely the one that's in line with the mindset of dark magic creates, which is that if I can do something, if I can save/help/protect/cure someone, then how can I not, no matter the cost or sacrifice?

Rayla processes the reevaluation of the vow and its boundaries.

He did it for her, risked all of that and himself for her, in order to save her life. "Am I supposed to thank you?" And I think again we see the parallels between her leaving to protect him, and how she would've rather died than have Callum use dark magic again (as she's about to say in a minute) but this really stood out to me in comparison to Viren and Claudia and Viren and Soren later this season.

Claudia mandates "You have to stay! You have to [do what I want]! I saved you! You owe me your life!" in 6x01. We learn in 6x06 what, precisely, Viren did to save Soren's life, and Soren then offers up his heart to Viren for Katolis in 6x08, something in Claudia's vein of logic (though not to her herself) Viren would be entitled to. But Viren, and Callum, make it clear that Soren and Rayla don't owe them anything just because the two mages saved their lives with dark magic.

Then Rayla switches gears and gets to the heart of the matter.

Now this was really exciting to me for a few reasons. The first is that I always wanted the "Make the sacrifice" angle from Viren-Aaravos in 5x09 to come back around for Rayla and Callum in a future season since I love that fourway foils dynamic a lot. Rayla refusing to kill him, and Callum refusing to let her be killed/sacrificed in some other manner. You don't have characters say shit like this (nor have this be what causes Callum to stumble and the ship starts breaking) unless you plan on going there for both of them, which is likewise what I've always wanted since even before S4 came out. The fact that this is also spearheading us to talk about Rayla's ideas of sacrifice and of herself ("Cause I know you Rayla, you never do anything for yourself") is especially beautiful and exciting.

Ergo, this argument is the scene of all time. To Me.

[shotmrmiller]

I need cbf!Johnny to swoop in and remind me of the blissful years of my youth while dicking me down into the mattress. Just to reaffirm the importance of friendship for reasons that I can't think of.

You know who this is from...

-💛

What if he reaffirms the importance of y'all's friendship after picking you up from a date?

And by pick up, I mean interrupt.

See, someone had managed to get you to give them your number.

Surprising, honestly, because you were a bit picky with the men you let into your life. That the guy had hair the color of damp soil and the Caribbean Sea in his eyes was merely coincidental.

It was all going well enough, until you went a dinner date with him, and Johnny seats himself at your table.

John fucking MacTavish.

If looks could kill.

You reached over and pinched the cartilage of his ear with your nails— twisting it until he gave a pained yelp.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be across the world on a mission or something?" you hiss.

As Johnny responds to you, his unwavering gaze remains fixated on your date.

"Obviously not, hen. Went home t'find ye missin'. Was worried somethin' happened t'ye. Wha's the lad?"

Your date uneasily clears his throat. "I'm uh—," but Johnny briskly flicks his hand in a dismissive gesture.

"Dinnae answer tha'— was rhetorical. Ah'll be takin' my bonnie now, aye?" Leaning in, Johnny's hand firmly clasps his shoulder, eliciting a wince from your date. "Fer the sake of yer health, delete'r number."

You didn't dare interrupt as he bullied your date out of the restaurant nor resist when he dragged you to his vehicle with the oversized tires that you could hear a mile away.

And that's how you ended up in this position— thighs pressed against your sweat-slick chest, his rough hands keeping you in place, and your feet positioned near his ears, as he split you open with his cock.

"All ye needed t'do was wait fer me. Ah'd give ye anythin' ye want— just gotta ask." His deep voice rolled over you like a wave, leaving you breathless.

Your eyes crossed when he bottomed out, a toe-curling blend of pleasure and pain setting your nerves ablaze.

Gently, he leans down and captures your lips with his own hungrily— swallowing a moan that came from the back of his throat.

All senses but touch dull when he begins to move. The drag of his length along your swollen, tender walls. The coarse, dense hair on his chest brushing against your feverish skin— awakening every nerve ending. His warm tongue curling with yours, peppermint on your taste buds.

It's quickly becoming too much.

Johnny breaks away with a groan, strings of glistening saliva connecting you both, and gazes down at you—his eyes shimmering with an ethereal luminescence under the moon's soft light.

He grinds down, his trimmed pubic hair brushing against your slippery pearl, and a high-pitched keen slithered from behind your teeth.

"Tha's it, hen, take yer pleasure from me. I'm all ye need. Tha's wha' ah'm fer; To give ye what ye need, as yer best friend, aye?" he purrs.

There is no fighting him. There is no want to fight him, either.

He's all you need.

"Atta lass," his lips brush the shell of your ears as he breathes, "Ahm' all ye'll ever need."

Any words that sat on your tongue turned to ash when he began to thrust.

"Til death do us part, bonnie."

he would chain the very heavens and drag them down if you asked it of him.

[maple-the-awesome]

Tiny Little Details ||

Pairing: Four x GN Reader

Words: 1,781

Requested by @pinkalmondcake: May I please get some four fluff of that's alright🥹He's just so cute and I was thinking about reader discovering a small minish four when they landed in his world (he wanted to check on the minish) and the reader didn't know he could be so smol and four becomes embarassed seeing he likes the reader (and the reader is a bit taller than him seeing he's a small bean anyway XD) and when they discover they like each other than as the reader somewhat confesses, then they pick him up in their hand and he's blushing and everything. He also gives them a peck on the nose and hugs their cheek while squealing on the inside! (sorry that this is a longish ask!) And I hope it was fine to ask too! ^.^ I love the parts to your crush and your new part for sacrificing ourselves for the chain! ❤️ Four is officially the most adorable Link and that must not be forgotten🥺I mean, where else are you gonna find a better boyfriend than one you can literally just keep in your pocket? Here you go, hun!

Zelda Masterlist 💙 Fandom Masterlist

Minish are rather generous, taking it upon themselves to hide little goodies in the grass for travelers to find like extra hearts or rupees, but they also host the sweetest little tea parties made up of droplets of tea and crumbs of cookies which are perfectly filling for anyone matching their size.

It's a much needed break, Four decided some time ago. Away from the stress of trying to keep Hyrule (and numerous versions of it) safe while also maintaining his own sanity while faced with eight other heroes, a few of whom can be a bit much to deal with at times, as he's learned. 

For the most part, they all get along well, likely due to their shared destinies and deeper understandings towards each other's struggles, yet that doesn't mean they all share the same personalities. It isn't constant, although also not rare for some to butt heads here and there, leading to raised tensions as well as the need for fresh air like in Four's current case.

When he huffs a bit too loud, he must reassure his Minish friends that everything's fine, even asking for another drop of tea to fill his miniature cup, however it's difficult not to feel new dismay at the sight of a golden sky above. 

Truthfully, Four had cooled down a while ago, already letting his anger towards the other boys roll off his shoulders, but that doesn't mean he wants this peaceful moment to end any quicker. If it were up to him, he'd stay with the Minish longer, trading merry stories about his recent adventures that almost take away from the dark energy looming in the air. Alas, he should probably return soon before anyone begins to worry too much, although as he soon learns, it might be too late for that.

Four was just about to dismiss himself when he heard his name being called. To the smallest beings of the world, it sounds like thunder crashing through the sky as does the crunching of footsteps that almost shake the earth as they get closer, but Minish are used to such disruptions and even Four shows no concern upon recognizing the approaching voice.

"FOUR?! ARE YOU OUT HERE?!" It's you; both a good and bad thing. Good, because out of all his traveling partners, Four must admit that you're his favorite. Your presence arouses a similar sense of calming comfort in him as being around the Minish does, the only difference being the wooziness you curse upon him from your smile alone. Yes, it would be safe to say that Four has become enchanted by your beauty, both inside and out, so he's actually quite happy to hear your voice as you search for him. The problem then? He's still the size of a Minish himself and the only person in the Chain who knows about this ability of his is Twilight, not you.

It's okay. This is fine. He's barely the size of a rupee, hidden amongst a tall forest of flora. To find him on your own, you would have to actively hunt through the flowers and blades of grass which you definitely aren't doing now. Instead, you're scanning the entirety of the field at eye level because you reasonably believe that if your friend is truly out here, you'll be able to easily spot him by doing so, after all, he may be shorter than you, but not as short as to be below your feet (if only you knew).

Four plans to stay silent and wait for you to move along elsewhere which would give him time to turn back without your notice, however he hesitates to commit to that decision once you come into sight, allowing him to officially see just how worried you look. If he didn't know any better, he'd say you appear to be on the verge of tears, growing more frantic by the second. 

You can't be blamed for your concern. Four has been gone for a while and isn't usually a Link to wander, not to mention you were told he left in a huff after being on the receiving end of harsh teasing from some of the other boys. No one has heard from him since, so in your mind, you've concluded that he must be really upset - possibly even hurting someplace. 

Not that he knows it yet, but you've been searching for him nonstop after finding out what had happened back at camp which is why you're in this field now; it's the last place you can think of as you grow desperate to find him before the sunset fully sets. How terrible would Four have to be to ignore these fears of yours, letting you continue worrying yourself sick when it's within his power to smooth your anxieties instead? 

"...Uh, I'm right here," You can be forgiven for doubting you hear anything at all provided how quiet the voice had been and the fact that no matter which direction you turn to, you can’t seem to locate the source until it speaks again in a squeak, "Down here. To your left."

You're understandably shocked to look down and find a miniature version of your friend struggling to climb up a small nearby rock (which must feel like a mountain to him), his presence suddenly very clear as his colorful tunic helps him stand out against the gray, "...F-Four? Wha - How did you get like this? What happened?!" 

You could spend all day coming up with explanations for your friend's new appearance, however you'd likely never land on the correct one and it doesn't help that you can barely make out any of his explanation, his voice matching a mere whisper despite how he shouts his words for your attention.

"H-Hold on. I can't hear you," You immediately kneel down in front of the rock, instinctually reaching out towards him yet freezing mid action. He cocks his head to the side, curiously waiting for you to gain enough confidence to pair with your next question, "I...Would it be okay if I pick you up? Or is that rude? I don't know if that’s rude or not or if you -"

Amid your rambling, Four nods, taking a few steps forward which you take as an invite to lower your cupped hands against the rock and allow him to climb on. Once able, you gently lift him to eye level, "Are you okay? Is this...normal for you?"

He nods again this time paired with a shrug as if this whole experience shouldn't be too much of a surprise, then again, the more you think about it, it probably shouldn't be. First Twilight now Four. You really should interrogate all the boys to find out what other crazy secrets and abilities they may be keeping from you (you're already guessing Time has a few up his sleeves).

You sigh upon realizing Four truly does seem okay, nothing about his tiny expression giving away any negative emotions, in fact you can make out an amused smile as he watches everything set in your mind, "...I was starting to freak out there a little when I couldn't find you. Hyrule said you ran off after Warrior was giving you grief about your height earlier. They made it sound like you were pretty upset - which you shouldn't be because who gives a crap if you're the shortest in the group? You're still plenty smarter and Hylia knows more mature than to tease your comrades into running away - but my point is, since you hadn't returned yet on your own I began to think that maybe you weren't coming back at all and -"

"- Thank you for worrying, but I actually wasn't that upset about what Warrior had said," Four cuts you off while setting a hand on your thumb. His touch only has about the same weight as a feather and even tickles a bit, however you force yourself not to focus on that.

"You weren't?"

"No. I was more annoyed than anything since it does get repetitive to have people constantly pointing out my height -" He rolls his eyes at the thought, "- But I don't mind being the shortest. Like you said, I have other strengths, not to mention there's actually a lot of advances to being short."

"This being one of them?" You smirk, wondering what he could've even been up to while so tiny, although that's a question for another day.

“You could say that,” Four shares your laughter, "...I guess it probably is a good thing you're the one who came looking for me, though. If one of the others were to find me like this, I doubt the jokes would ever end."

"Oh, I'm sure. They'd give you hell. You are pretty adorable like this, though."

Four blinks, not certain if he had heard correctly. He might've fully dismissed the comment if not for your own realization at what you had just said, the embarrassment clear upon your bashful expression and hurried excuses, "W-Well, what I meant to say was that...Objectively, small things are considered cute, and you're like the size of a little mouse which is adorable, even though you're always cute, it's especially when you can just fit in the palm of my hand like this - which isn’t the point! But I, umm -"

Once again, Four is kind enough to save you from digging yourself further into a hole, the only difference is he does so without much prior thought, instead blurting the words eagerly himself, after all this might just be the perfect opportunity to get it off his chest, "- I think you're cute, too! You're, uh, always cute, too."

You stare at him without response which may have been a scary thing if not for your wide, delighted grin; something that only confirms Four's previous statement.

"Could you, um...?" He coughs into his fist, looking away from you with a fierce blush, "Bring me a bit closer please?"

It takes you a moment to understand what he means, but once you do, you quickly nod and move your hands closer to your face, thus bringing Four close enough to lean out of your hands ever so carefully so that he may place a barely felt kiss upon your nose. 

Startling him a bit, you can't suppress the squeal you give as a reaction, "I'm sorry, but that was sooo adorable!"

He chuckles and although he may not make a sound beside it, don't doubt that he feels the same squealing joy in his chest as you sit back in the grass with him held warmly against your cheek.

.

.

.

"...Shouldn't we get back soon? Won’t the others worry?"

"Let them. It can be their punishment for being jerks earlier."

[broke-art]

Kui Mulang x reader

SPOILER WARNING

You struggled against the soldiers as they dragged you further into the forest.

After Tang had teleported you in a rush, you and Mei had dropped into a forested area that you of course didn't recognize.

"Get off a me!" You shouted thrashing in their grips. You made one stumble slightly but the other quickly corrected him and tugged on your arm painfully.

"If I had my sword I'd slice ya and dice ya!" Mei yelled loudly as a circular entrance opened.

You gasped a bit as the pair of guards holding you and Mei shoved you both forward and you hit the ground on your knees.

The entrance behind you closed as a voice captured your full attention.

"Well well well." A man spoke from atop a throne ahead of you. "Who are these little creatures that have come wandering into my den?" He asked introspectively.

Instantly your heart fluttered at the sound of his voice shocking you especially. If you didn't know any better, you'd say his voice was familiar.

"Who are you?! What am I doing here?! What do you want?!" Mei demanded getting to her feet. You followed suit but kept your peace.

Yet inside your magic roiled almost excitedly. Though you had zero idea why. Instead of focusing on that you tossed your gaze around the room looking for an exit or possible escape.

Maybe if Mei could just keep him busy.

"Feisty." The man mused. "Very well, allow me to tell you a tale."

You felt the urge to squirm as Mei's tone turned nervous.

"Oh that's ok we should Go-"

She was cut off by his tale none the less.

As he spoke the story began to sound more and more familiar and more and more disturbing.

"I am Kui Mulang God of the celestial court one of the 28 mansions of the white tiger and devourer of earthly souls."

You flinched feeling a chill run down your spine.

"Oh I'll be spicy, Alright!" Mei shouted. 

"Mei wait!" You began but it was too late she'd already charged at him only to be restrained by magic runes only a second later.

In an instant similar runes locked you in place despite your struggle

"Ah such power. And yet powerless to use it." Kui Mulang muttered thoughtfully observing Mei.

"Let her go!" You shouted thrashing against the runes holding you fast. To your shock the runes began to crack under your thrashes.

Kui Mulang gave a small hum as he looked around Mei.

"Come into the light." He ordered.

You were about to refuse but a rune at your back shoved you forward. Forcing you to kneel before his throne.

Kui Mulang's eyes widened. With a small gasp.

"It's you."

You glanced up.

"My beloved reborn." He whispered touching a hand to your cheek. "But how is this so? So soon?"

Despite yourself your cheeks heated at his touch but regardless, you pulled away as much as the restraints would allow.

"Don't touch me."

Kui Mulang frowned.

"You don't remember." He turned. "No matter. You will. In time."

"Take the dragon girl to the cells." He ordered with dismissive wave of his hand which effectively dropped Mei into guards who had just entered.

"Wait, No!" You yelled thrashing against the chains as they dragged her away.

Kui Mulang took your chin in hand.

"Don't fret, my love. Soon all will be made clear."

With a snap of his fingers your world seemed to blur then fade to black.

Dun dun dun!

Would you guys like more Kui Mulang fics? Let me know in the comments.

[kuyurasu]

Spider Lily

Dottore x Reader

Part 2

Part 3

Summary ; Soulmates are tied with their lifespan. After being sold to a man as a slave in Sumeru, you forgot about the boy you saved as a child. He didn't.

WC ; an obscene amount

Reading time ; depends.

Warnings ; look at part 1

Authors Note ; enjoy

"Pack up, then, foolish girl. You will want to get some warmer clothes for this."

It took a while. But when you felt your own heart beating in your chest as you woke up, you were surprised. Your head was aching with a pounding headache like never before. Surprisingly, you were still alive. After your mental breakdown, all you could think about was how this was it for you—you were certain of it, so how were you still here? Alive? Breathing?

"You're awake." A cold, distant voice sounded. It was masculine and slightly rude, but there were creases of concern for you in his eyes. You turned to look at him, your eyes feeling dry and blurry.

He sat across a fire from you, a mask over his face and a hood drawn over his head. He wore dark clothes, like he belonged to some weird cult. You didn't have any words as you looked at him, your eyes wide in shock and concern. Would he take you back? Was he one of them?

"You were asleep for 4 days. I had to convince three harbingers that I hadn't abandoned my post just for you. You should consider yourself lucky in more ways than one." He rambled on, looking at you with a dismissive gaze, before standing and walking over to a bag, pulling out some soft food. "You went into shock. I had to fucking pull you out of an entire mental breakdown before you killed yourself." He grumbled quietly, walking over to you with a flask of water and food. "Not too quickly."

You took the water and followed his warning to not drink the substance too quickly. Your heart pounded as it suddenly had what your body craved, and your head was getting dizzy for a moment. You had always had a limited supply of water, not only to keep you from getting too strong, but because out of 20 slaves, it could be pricey. And Lord, help them if they had to spend too much money on slaves.

"I noticed your tongue. Can you speak properly?" He asked quietly, pulling his hood down to show his pale blonde hair. It suited his equally pale features.

You gave a so-so expression, opening your mouth to show that your tongue hardly touched your teeth if you tried. Talking was complicated.

He was silent for a moment, looking blandly at the display, before sighing. "If the doctor was here, he'd be able to fix that shit, but..." He sighed quietly and looked up at the young woman with a subtle frown. "You should learn to speak simple words. I heard you talk before you passed out, but that's because you were dying. Your body can do more when on the brink of death. I would know." He handed you the soft meal, giving you a warning to eat it slowly as well.

You nodded faintly, your teeth clamping down and chewing on the meat as he talked. It was delicious—well, he didn't seem pleased with it, but considering you had stale or moldy bread your whole life, this was a luxury.

"You're a slave, or were a slave, I should say." You nodded quietly, your heart squeezing painfully while a cold sweat went down your back. It was unreal to think that a few days ago, you were in chains, walking hundreds of miles for work, and now you were sitting by a campfire at dawn with a stranger. "You should get those slave tattoos covered. You don't want to meet your old masters as they see your marks." He commented after a while, taking a bite of the meal as well.

It took a while before you felt comfortable trying to talk to him, being wary and not all there mentally, but he was patient, surprisingly.

His name was Zakhar. He told you he was a Snezhnayan resident. You had never been to that nation on account of the cold and other reasons the slave owners didn't disclose. Something about Fatui Zakhar was relatively chatty, yet some of his words had a distinct accent that took a while for you to understand. He also began to teach you how to extend your shortened tongue to speak as well as possible.

"Sss. Try it. You need to curve your tongue slightly and press it near your teeth. Again." He commanded you, showing you how to properly say the S. It took many tries, but you got there.

"Ch.. s… Sss… S." You sounded finally, looking up at Zakhar, as he seemed a bit proud and pleased. He nodded his head and gestured for you to continue.

That night, he took off his mask for the first time. It was when he came back from washing himself that his face was covered with his normal clothing, but there was no mask on his face. He probably assumed you would be asleep, but he should've known by now that you could hardly ever keep your eyes shut. Whether it be because of the screams and terrors or the world you could not see enough of,

"Zak…har." You slurred slightly, looking up with surprise. You didn't expect the bright red eyes to turn and look at you with a startled expression. You blushed instinctively, feeling like you were getting caught looking at something you weren't supposed to.

He quickly put his mask back on, not wanting to be seen without it. "You should've been asleep." He nearly growled out, turning away from you so he could continue drying off his hair.

You swallowed and remembered his teachings for your stupid tongue. "I'm sorry. I didn't know." You quietly laid down on the blanket that had become your bed.

He shook his head, signaling he didn't wish to talk any longer. It made you sigh but listen to his warning.

The next day, you awoke to nearly half of the stuff already packed away. The mini-camp Zakhar had set up was nearly gone. He was stuffing some things in his bag before noticing you were awake. Your eyes are glued to his form. He sighed and looked at you. "I need to leave for Snezhnaya. I was supposed to be there yesterday; the doctor will have my head if I don't leave now." Your heart slightly dropped at the information, and the agonizing realization finally dawned on you.

You would be alone. He was leaving you. Why? Why was he leaving you? Your heart began to race, your eyes staring off in the distance while you processed all of this. He was leaving you, abandoning you. Just like everyone else. Your breathing began to get labored, and tears you didn't realize slipped down your cheeks as your body lightly trembled. It was like you were stuck in a trance—your mind not wanting to process this or even think about what this meant. He was leaving you alone. Could you convince him to stay? He's taught you so much; there were so many things you had to learn and think about with him as your teacher. Your heart feels like it just may give up again.

Hands braced your shoulders and snapped you out of your almost meltdown, securing you as your breaths continued to shake.

"Stop. I know you're probably used to people leaving you; we need to work on that." You didn't know if it was Zakhar's voice securing you or if it was his hands. It was the only thing that made you able to be relatively there. At the words of working with him in your panic, you relaxed every so slightly. He wasn't going to abandon you. "Listen to me. You are about to make a very important choice. Something that was taken from you." The power of having control He was giving it to you in the most realistic way possible, by making you understand the seriousness of the situation. It made you feel... electric, almost. You had a hand in what was happening.

You nodded faintly, trembling still, as he slowly released your shoulders. He sat on his knees in front of you, a mask covering his features. Everything but those bright red eyes.

"I work in Snezhnaya. It is a cold, cruel nation. My sister is there as well, and I believe it could be beneficial to you to learn and get help. She is better at this than I am." He gestured to himself and then at a space in between you two, knowing he wasn't quite up to the job of helping undo the trauma that soaked your bones. It was practically imprinted in your mind after hundreds of years, and something told you it would take you just as long, if not longer, to help with that curse of yours.

You thought of the offer and already knew your choice. It was a clear and easy decision considering, at this moment, he was all you had. "I want to go with you."

He smiled. It was the most you got from him when you pleased him, especially when you finally spoke about what you wanted.

"My apologies, Lord Harbinger." He said it with an almost shaky tone.

A day later, you were on a ship off to Snezhnaya, warm clothes and all. Zakhar placed his hood over his head for the first time since meeting you, covering most of his face with shadows once more. He gave you a mask as well. He was adamant about it and seemed nervous when you questioned it with a slight tilt of your head. While on the ship, Zakhar fidgeted with his fingers, looking off in the distance, which no doubt was where the nation would be. It confused you as to why he was so nervous. He went silent after a while as well, getting closer and closer to the frozen tundra.

He grabbed all your things, and when you both docked, he was guarded, reserved, and hostile. Just like when you first met him. It didn't really bother you since all your life was harsh; it just boggled your mind why the suddenness of such an attitude changed.

"2 weeks. You have been absent far too long." A cold, harsh voice sounded from the distance. Standing across the docks was a man with light blue hair, fancy Snezhnayan clothes, and a scowl on his face. A crow-like, almost plague-like mask covered most of his features, but from the energy that radiated from him, you knew this man was lethal. It made you tremble and almost instinctively bow.

Zakhar guarded you with his body, hiding you from view from the man as he bowed his head and swallowed thickly.

So this man was the reason why he was nervous, you thought.

"Do not try to apologize. Prime would have given you hell if he were aware of your foolishness, unless it was for me. You are lucky he left for business."

The only question in your mind, though, wasn't about what you had to do or where you had to go. But who was that man?

Zakhar swallowed and nodded his head, not daring to speak anymore without permission, especially after knowing how angry the harbinger clearly was. You didn't make a noise either, even as the man slowly walked closer. His pale skin almost looks a bit sickly.

"Is this feeble woman the reason for your disappearance? You decide to disregard your duties for a mere fornication with... this beast?" He turned his eyes to where you stood behind him before scoffing and laughing in his low, intimidating tone. You had your face and body covered, but you could tell he thought you were hideous. How could he not? You were sickly-looking, weak, and feeble, and you were barefoot.

Zakhar remained silent, knowing that if he spoke without permission, he may very well be killed.

The man continued to walk closer, closing the gap of distance between the three of you, and Zakhar guarded you like his life depended on it with his head bowed. "You reported the discovery of a rare artifact for testing. Give it to me now. Or else your cock will be chopped off for this offense."

Your friend trembled for only a moment before retrieving an item in his bag and handing it to the other man, his eyes behind the mask clearly judging the item with cold precision.

"Very well. This will suffice. You are expected to report to the palace tomorrow at the normal time. Do not expect Omega or Prime to be as forgiving as me." And with that, the man turned around, the cloak he wore falling behind him as he walked back into the frozen, snowing city. It caused a sigh of relief for both of you. He was probably someone you felt the most danger from yet. It made you tremble.

"Right… That was something. Let us go. We have... much to do." Zakhar sighed and took your arm in his, knowing that it would be easy to get lost or have bad luck in this nation.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Do you think arranged reader would ever request or engage in scandalous PDA to say 🖕🏻 to her mom?

Probably not.

Bruce tried very hard not to think about how easy it would be to tear this particular dress off of you. Or about the delicate chains of crystal that draped down your back.

You knew he was Batman now so he couldn't comment on it. Not with the same ease. He couldn't call you a poor little rich girl to goad you. He couldn't- he couldn't do a lot of things.

And it rankled.

You let him kiss you but you didn't melt into him. There was no surrender. There was no pleading. And now that he knew the depths you kept hidden, all he wanted was to go back. Preferably to punch himself in the face.

He should have flattered you. Courted you. Seduced you properly.

Not dismissed you as some empty-headed bit of frippery.

"Do you ever miss it," he asked, pulling you fractionally closer, pressing his lips by your ear.

"Miss what?" you ask, smiling sweetly. Playing your part with the same deft hand.

He smiled a little. You were a master class in improvisational skills. It was clear now that you'd been thinking of something else. Only snapping back when he spoke.

"All your little rooftop rendevous," he clarified.

"No," you answer. A little too sharp. And a little too quick. He could feel the skin of your back heat under his finger tips.

"Not even a little?"

"No," you answer again. Looking away. It's a lie and he knows it, but he won't press you on it.

"I just wish-" You start and stop again. Biting your lip before shaking your head.

"What?" he asked.

"It's nothing," you tell him. "Don't look so worried. People are watching. They'll think we're fighting."

"Aren't we?"

"Why would I fight when you've already won?" You ask. "You got everything you wanted."

"Y/N I-"

"The only thing I regret is that it was never really my choice to start with."

The song ends and you stand on your toes and kiss his cheek, giving him a care free smile before excusing yourself. And for a moment, all Bruce can do is stare after you wondering if he'd ever stop hating himself for what he'd done.