#left me on read which is. very unnerving

[krogans-give-the-best-cuddles]

Reading the Orchid Thief and lemme say. So fascinating to see someone like. Try to come up with a Reason Why humans like orchids. Two chapters here in a row pretty much treating Orchid hobbyists and plant hobbyists in general like one would an entirely alien culture- and don't get me wrong I understand why to an extent. Trying to make this book marketable outside just plant circles and what have you. But some of the way the camera is angled here is just. Fascinating.

Like, she explains how there are so many unique ways orchids evolved, as an attempt to contextualize for a reader why people might go crazy for them in specific, and describes individual species unique mating strategies, and the inability of them to self pollinate- but while I think that context is interesting it doesn't explain a damn thing. For one thing, having an extremely specific mating strategy is not solely an Orchid thing- a LOT of plants do it like that. Lots are flexible but I would say a vast swath are not and require specific things. For another- apples also don't self fertilize, but you don't have hundreds of thousands of apple varietal collectors.

She discusses their beauty as a reason they're collected- I won't deny that being a factor for sure, plants that humans like the shape of have a tendency to get collected and overcollected all the time- but like. A lot of people collect things that are traditionally ugly or even smell bad- and if it was exclusively a shallow pursuit, no one would work as hard as is required for an insane amount of orchids.

Part of the reasons orchids in particular are popular has to do with colonization. I can't articulate it all myself bc I haven't done research- but a genus that largely exists in tropical regions, that became popular in the late 1800s, that, in order to get in homes, white men would travel to all sorts of regions to take plants out of to get in the home? That is gonna help it get more popular than tomato or apple varieties for sure. I'm sure she's gonna touch on this eventually, given that the story she's covering actually involves the Seminole nation so I'm not holding it against her.

I suppose I'm just fascinated by her approach so far as to trying to understand why anyone would. Work to grow something? Really like something? I mean she pretty explicitly states that she "wants to want something" as much as these people want their plants- describes hobby communities and the idea of like. Working a hobby into your schedule or having friends related to the hobby as a "religion". She's baffled by like. Putting time and energy into a hobby and gaining joy and community from it and is trying to like. Break down orchids into their component parts to understand what makes someone. Want to grow a plant? And get community out of a hobby?

I'm going to be charitable and not make presumptions that she doesn't know like. The concept of loneliness and therefore a longing for community. Or that on some level she must know what common signs of autism are (ignoring her having spent several paragraphs describing several different people with classic signs and symptoms and then settling on "weird"). But it makes me want to turn the camera lens around for a moment. What makes someone presume that it's Orchid "obsession" (the word hobby is rather rare in the book acrually) that is particularly strange or more obsessed than other obsessions? What makes one abstract others hobbies and interests as needing a solve while the ones you surely have seen all over and even participated in aren't worth that examination? The line between "normal" and "abnomal" is entirely one made by dominant society

So this is why hobbies and kink aren't so different in the way they're perceived-

Orchids are an obsession to this author, to be highlighted and examined, or a hobby, to most people. They get a noteworthy category because they are seen as atypical. Sports-watching, however, is like. Never discussed as hobby. Watching football, watching soccer. It's just normal. No one says "that's my hobby." Even if a guy had a room full of memorabilia he would be noted as a "team fan" not a hobbyist. Sports has been declared normative, so it's not really considered a hobby by anyone. Plants? Non normative, therefore the same exact behaviors will get you considered unusual and a hobbyist.

Kink is the same way. People who are attracted to women being interested in breasts is so assumed to be normal and natural that no one calls it a kink. Breasts, the fatty deposits intended for feeding young, are expected to be hidden bc this kink (which everyone refuses to call a kink or a fetish or what have you) is seen as so universal. It's seen as immutable fact that there is a sexual nature to them. Feet however? If someone's into that that's a kink or a fetish if you're feeling kind, an obsession that makes you strange and worthy of examination and explanation if you're not.

I'm not arguing for doing away with calling things hobbies or kinks- I'm actually advocating for calling more normative things those words actually- I think it's just helpful to see where the framing of something, the way in which we choose to examine it, also has a lot to say about that which we leave unexamined, and unnamed. Because we don't categorize the normal.

[meleeyz]

ekko enemies to lovers? literally metal flowers was SO! GOOD! where reader is a pilte and she goes down with cait and vi in s1?

┈﹒ ꒰ 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗬 𝗣𝗜𝗟𝗧𝗜𝗘꒱

ekko 𝒙 fem!reader

୨୧ English is not my first language, so I'm sorry in advance if something reads strangely or is poorly written.

୨୧ Hello darling! Maybe this isn't exactly your idea (?), but I thought it would be fun to have a tension-filled conversation when the reader is supposed to be... you know, kidnapped. Tell me what you think! I'm also glad you liked the metal flowers one-shot 💞💞

୨୧ THANK YOU VERY VERY VERY MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT, THIS IS THE FIRST REQUEST I HAVE AND THAT MAKES ME VERY HAPPY, YOUR NICE COMMENTS ARE ALSO GREAT, THANK YOU VERY MUCH AGAIN 💓

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

It all happened too fast: Vi shouting warnings, the blue-haired lunatic and her sick laughter had been the least of your problems.

And now you were here, restrained in a damp, dimly lit room, the sack over your head smelling of grease and mildew. Caitlyn’s muffled voice called for you, distant and strained.

You tugged at the ropes binding your wrists to the chair, teeth gritted. The door creaked open, and hurried footsteps approached. The sack was pulled off. A Vastaya man loomed over you, his bat-like ears curling inwards as he studied you for a moment. Then, wordlessly, he left, closing the door behind him with a resonating clang.

Blinking against the sudden light, you glanced around, your gaze landing on someone seated across the room. He wore an owl mask, his posture lazy yet somehow threatening.

Your stomach churned. You’d seen him earlier—watching from the shadows as Silco’s men attacked. He hadn’t intervened then, just observed with unnerving intensity.

“Got something to say, or are you just going to keep staring?” you snapped, your voice sharper than you intended.

The masked figure tilted his head, amusement evident in the way he leaned back.

“Staring at people like that? Kind of counts as harassment, you know,” you continued, forcing a smirk despite the pounding of your heart. “But hey, let me go, and we can settle this properly. I promise I’ll be… kind.”

The voice that responded came distorted through a modulator, low and mechanical. “You should learn to take care of that mouth. If it weren’t for the other two, you’d already be dead.”

Your eyebrows shot up, and despite yourself, you let out a sarcastic laugh. “Oh, I see how it is. Big bad owl man is bothered by my mouth? Then why didn’t you just kill me outright?”

His laugh echoed back at you, though his tone remained clipped. He stood, his figure tall and imposing as he stepped closer.

“Believe me,” he said, his voice dripping with mockery. “It was tempting.”

You tilted your head, meeting his gaze—or what you assumed were his eyes—through the owl mask. “Oh, I’m trembling,” you deadpanned. “What a scary owl.”

His movements stilled for a moment, the tilt of his head indicating surprise. You pressed on, determined to keep the upper hand in this strange game.

“Let me guess,” you said, smirking again. “Sitting around in a mask all day makes you feel tough, huh? What’s next—dramatic monologues about justice?”

He chuckled, stepping even closer until he was towering over you. “You’ve got guts. I’ll give you that.”

“Oh, please,” you shot back, craning your neck to meet him. “You think this is guts? I just call it basic survival.”

For a moment, silence filled the space between you, tension crackling like static. Then, slowly, he reached up, his gloved fingers curling around the edge of his mask.

Your breath hitched, the weight of the moment sinking in as he pulled it away.

The first thing you noticed were his eyes—sharp, golden-brown, and filled with a confidence that bordered on arrogance. His features were striking, all sharp angles and raw intensity but softened.

You blinked, momentarily speechless, which was enough to make him laugh again. This time, it was unmodulated—rich and almost boyish, a stark contrast to his earlier demeanor.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, his grin wide. “Cat got your tongue?”

Your mouth opened, then closed as you struggled for a response. The sheer absurdity of it hit you like a freight train. For all your mother’s warnings about suitors back in Piltover, none of them could hold a candle to him.

And, of course, he knew it.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he said smugly, stepping back.

You clenched your fists, suddenly grateful for the handcuffs keeping you from doing something you’d probably regret.

“Don’t look so smug,” you said finally, recovering enough to glare at him. “You still kidnapped me, remember?”

“Kidnapped?” he repeated, feigning offense. “Rescued is more like it. You’re lucky I was watching.”

“Lucky?” you shot back. “You’ve got a twisted sense of gratitude.”

“Stick around. You might just learn something.”

You scowled, your cheeks warming despite yourself. The silence stretched, thick and heavy, as you sat there under the sharp gaze of the boy—no, young man—in the room. But his attention was no longer casual. His gaze was razor-edged, appraising.

“Enough games,” he said finally, his voice steady, though it carried an undertone of curiosity. “What do you know about the hextech gemstone?”

The question hung in the air, and for a moment, you were caught off guard. Hextech? You wracked your brain, recalling snippets of overheard conversations.

“It’s… like an energy booster,” you said hesitantly, your brows furrowed. “Anyone can use it to build pretty much anything. Something about it being ‘limitless potential’ or whatever.”

Ekko tilted his head, clearly not expecting you to be so forthcoming.

“You just told me, just like that?”

“Why not?” you replied with a shrug. “You didn’t kill me, which is already better than everyone else we’ve run into today. If you’re not trying to gut me on sight, you can’t be that bad.”

His laugh came low, warm, and rough, as if you’d surprised him again.

“You’re either really brave or really stupid.”

“Bit of both,” you admitted, flashing a quick smile “So, what’s next? We keep playing twenty questions?”

He chuckled dryly, though his next words were serious.

“Alright, let’s talk about your friends. What’s their deal? And what’s your relationship with the Enforcer?”

You clamped your mouth shut, trying to suppress the laugh bubbling in your chest. But the harder you tried, the more it broke free, until you were shaking with quiet.

“Enforcer?” you finally choked out, wiping the corner of your eye with your shoulder. “Caitlyn’s more like… I don’t know, a girl playing dress-up as an Enforcer. Her mother would die if she let Cait face real danger.” You tilted your head toward him, smirking. “Like this.”

Ekko raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to finish.

“Oh, and don’t leave the lovebirds alone too long,” you added, voice dripping with mock seriousness. “It seems like Cait’s taken a liking to the pink-haired one.”

That earned another huff of laughter from him. His gaze lingered on you, sharp yet tinged with reluctant amusement, as though trying to figure out whether you were always this reckless or just putting on a show.

“Alright, alright. My turn. That’s how this works, right?”

“That’s not how this works at all.”

“Sure it is,” you shot back, leaning forward as much as the restraints allowed. “If you were a conventional kidnapper, I wouldn’t have said a word. You’d have had to torture me for information—and, frankly, I don’t think you’d do it. Too soft.”

Ekko’s brow twitched, though he said nothing.

“Anyway, this isn’t a conventional kidnapping, right?” you added, your grin widening.

For a moment, he studied you, clearly debating whether to humor you. Finally, with a resigned sigh, he gestured vaguely.

“Fine. Ask your question.”

You leaned back, feigning nonchalance.

“What’s your name?”

He hesitated.

“Ekko.”

“Ekko,” you repeated, testing the name on your tongue. It suited him. “Alright, Ekko. Next question.”

He crossed his arms, his brows lifting in mock exasperation.

“I said one question.”

“You really need to loosen up,” you teased. “I want to learn how to ride that hoverboard of yours. That thing looks incredible.”

His lips twitched, but he kept his expression neutral.

“Anything else?”

“Yeah,” you said. “My wrists are starting to hurt. Being handcuffed is not exactly comfortable, you know.”

Ekko sighed, dragging a hand down his face, though you could see the faintest glint of amusement in his eyes.

“Pretty Piltie can’t handle a pair of handcuffs? I’ll free you when the time comes.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

“Don’t push it.”

“When the time comes,” he said again. “I’ll free you.”

“Ekko!” you called after him, frustration bubbling to the surface. “You can’t just—hey!”

He didn’t stop, didn’t even glance back. The door creaked open as he stepped out.

Outside, Scar leaned against the wall, his arms crossed and a bemused look on his face. He watched as Ekko adjusted the straps of his owl mask, preparing to slide it back into place.

“Something on your mind?” Ekko asked, his tone sharper than intended.

Scar raised an eyebrow, glancing toward the door where you were still yelling.

“Didn’t realize we were starting a dating service for Pilties now.”

Ekko shot him a glare, the owl mask concealing the faint flush creeping up his neck. “What?”

Scar smirked, shaking his head. “Nothing.”

With a sigh, Ekko adjusted the mask, his thoughts lingering on the strange girl tied up in the other room. A rich Piltie liking him? The thought was… well, distracting.

But he pushed it aside. There was work to be done.

“Where’s Vi?” he asked, his voice low.

Scar gestured down the hall. “Waiting.”

Ekko nodded, his mind shifting gears as he prepared for what would undoubtedly be another tense conversation.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

[mercyk1ll3r]

Bats and Axes

Pairing; Ticci toby x proxy!femreader

Summary; a couple months after becoming a proxy, a strange boy sparks your interest.

Warnings; slightly graphic violence, psychopathic reader, not much for first chap tbh.

Wc; 1k+

Credits; axe & bone header - menschenopfer, blood dividers - bucciniexe, caution tape - cafekitsune.

a/n; this will most likely be a multiple part series if you guys r interested in reading it :3 (lowercase intended, idgaf about grammer if i'm writing for fun)

"kill them" the voice pounded in your head, sending shivers down your body and tingling in all your limbs. causing you to grip you head and shake violently at the slightest thought of disobeying.

you could feel his presence engulf and fog your brain, making you nothing but a zombie, a puppet to him. your legs move before you can process. the tingling not ceasing, you can hardly feel your body or collect your thoughts. just a fog as you try to get a hold of yourself or form a coherent thought other then killing.

unsurprisingly your legs take you bolting towards the couple walking a little too closely for comfort near slenderman's mansion, swinging your bat ruthlessly into the woman's face. screams erupting from the both of them, in one of the most pure animalistic sounds humans can create, the sound of pure terror, you cant help but let a smile creep onto your face. this was your favorite part of your job.

you limp your way back to the mansion, now covered in blood and completely exhausted, atleast taking the time to dip your metal bat into the nearby stream.

finally arriving back in your bedroom and stripping off your ruined clothing that reek of death and changing into fresh ones, you crash into your bed. shaking slightly from all the adrenaline still pumping through your body.

you shoot up still on edge as u hear a knock on your door, "cmon y/n you left you leftovers outside, when will you learn to clean up after yourself?" sighing with annoyance you open your door, meeting eyes with ben. he was always fucking bothering you about something, yet he was still one of your best friends, you cant be too picky around here and you guys shared some interests. "wasn't me ben sorry." you say sighing and returning to the comfort of your bed, your body still aching.

"which other proxy kills people by completely bashing their faces in?" u turn around to face him with a defeated expressed, "okay fine it was me, can't i just leave it for EJ?" he just looks at you with that insufferable expression he always does "okay fine i'll go, i'll go!"

wandering back outside the mansion you set your course for the couples mangled bodies, as you reach the area you see a boy you don't recognize. he stands above the bodies seemingly just inspecting them, you grip you bat a bit tighter as you inch closer. "thi-iss your handywork?" as he speaks he turns up to look at you, granting you a better look at his face, seemingly unaffected by your presence, he must be a proxy.

"uhm.. yeah, i was coming to get the bodies." this boy unnerved you, sickly grey skin and a metal cage mask around his mouth showing very little of his mouth, two hatchets hanging low on his hips. "you must be.." his breathy and hoarse voice interrupted by his neck jerking violently to the side. "be a n-new proxy then"

you weren't exactly new, although it was hard to tell. memories of your old life becoming cloudy and harder to recall each day that passed, it had atleast been a couple months though. "new enough not to have met you i guess.." he tilts his head at you stepping over the bodies until there was an uncomfortable lack of distance between you two, what the fuck was this guys problem?

he scans your face seemingly as you meet his brown eyes, pupils blown wide and crazy, before he glanced down to your metal baseball bat. "i'm toby, i'm sure w-we'll be seeing eachother ah-around" he stares blanky at your face waiting for your reaction as he towered over you. "y/n" is all u say as he gives you a slight nod and steps past you, heading in the direction of the mansion.

there was something about this guy.. he was kinda creepy but something about him made you replay the moment over and over again, thinking of his wild eyes staring down at you. you try to shake off the weird interaction and step forward to the bloodied bodies.

"oh yeah, i think toby's back now, he was off on an assignment for a couple months." ben spoke as he continued mashing his controller buttons. he insisted you come over and play mario kart with him after he finally got his hands on a copy. "yeah i met him earlier.. what's his deal? he kinda freaks me out."

"do you remember that huge fire in that happened a couple years ago in the suburbs? totally whipped out the entire neighborhood, killed most of the people inside the houses too."

"oh yeah.. some girl who was in my math class died, she was all my school was talking about for weeks, endless assemblies and memorials." you surprise yourself with the words coming out of your mouth, the memory fleeting and fuzzy.

"well that was toby, killed his dad and set his house on fire. one time i saw him without a shirt on, he's got a bunch or gnarly burn scars.." ben seemed a little sad as he spoke which was odd because he rarely had any type of sympathy for anyone.

"that's pretty brutal.." is really all you can muster, you don't know what else to say. every proxy has their hands dirty with blood after all.

"ben oh-open up-pp!" you jump a little as you hear someone pounding on the door. "dude chill out, i'm coming." ben rises from his nest of pillows and blankets in front of his shitty old tv and lazily walks to the door.

"hey man, it's been a while." you can barely see who's outside the door, but you already recognize his raspy stutter. "ca-nnn i use your comm-computer?" "uhm yeah i guess, for what?" "for uhh.." he trails off as he seemingly notices your presence, eyes going slightly wide with a flustered expression on his face as you lock eyes.

"uhm nevermind i-i don't need it." he says bringing his eyes back to ben's face before hurrying off in the other direction leaving ben at his open door.

ben closes his door and returns to sitting beside you, "what the fuck was that? he's being so weird, well i mean, weirder then usual." he speaks annoyed before unpausing his game.

a/n: hey guys!! sorry this was short and ended kinda abruptly, i've been having bad writers block completing this -__- but regardless i hope u enjoyed. i'm super excited to continue this story and i already have future chapters planned, (probably gonna be a slowburn sorry guys)

[bug-slappy]

What Serizawa lore and dialogue in the manga that got cut from the anime are you talking about specifically I'm curious /gen

THANK YOU FOR GIVING ME A REASON TO GO HAM!!! any adaptation is gonna have its cutbacks due to time restraints, but i feel like so many of serizawas lines/important moments got totally butchered or cut completely just to be replaced with cute moments that never happen in the manga.

!! MP100 SPOILERS HEAD obvi !!

First case: In the manga, when serizawa finally stands up to toichiro, things pan out COMPLETELY differently!

I feel like this is a really important moment for serizawa. whatever false idea of friendship serizawa had left is ripped away from him. its unnerving to see how brutal and ruthless toichiro is, finally showing his true colours to serizawa after manipulating him for 3 years. I feel like its also a really important moment for reigen to bare witness to. serizawa and toichiros relationship serves as an exaggerated parallel to mob and reigens. A powerful and persuasive man using a naïve esper for their powers under the false promise of learning to control their powers, whether it helps them for better or for worse. big difference is that reigen does help mob in the style of important life lessons and guiding him towards being a good person. after the separation arc, reigen realizes how manipulative he's been to mob, he becomes a better person because of it. but i feel like after the TOICHIRO fight specifically is where we see a very clear difference in how reigen treats mob. he becomes a lot more patient and less controlling. it bums me out that this interaction was cut completely from the anime. I think it must have been for time because they also cut ekubos moments.

Serizawa not knowing what getting arrested is:

Calling the Yokai hunter out on his bluff:

they replaced this with the awesome fight scene but still an awesome line i wish they kept it was so bad ass lol:

But the most shocking thing that they cut from the finale was this scene, after mob goes to reigen and serizawa for advice on asking out tsubomi:

not only is it fruity,,... but more importantly its a super important moment!!! seeing reigen open up like this in front of another person is something we havent seen up until this point!! mob and reigen have impacted each other so much, and its a FANTASTIC segway into the final chapter! absolutely crazy to me that they would cut such a deep personal moment especially considering how much BONES loves reigen.. it gets "implied" through a quick silent moment between reigen and serizawa (all they show in the anime is serizawa looking surprised at him)

not only that, but its so interesting how easily reigen opens up around serizawa. he doesn't do that around anyone else (probably because serizawa is the only person near his age playing an active role in his life bro has no friends)

and its incredible how well serizawa can already read reigen after such a short time working at S&S. serizawa tends to be quiet and hang in the background, but in the manga it has a purpose; hes observing the world around him. when he does have something to say it has importance and is carefully thought out.

in the anime so much of that important dialogue is cut and replaced with his moe salaryman moments which sure its cute, but when you know what he was really supposed to be saying its such a major let down. I feel like the writers didnt know about serizawas huge fan following hes had since his premier, so they didn't really care about him. thats my best guess as to why so many good moments got cut

also this:

serizawa mentioned during his fight with mob that hes accidentally sent his mother flying before with his powers,,, exactly like mobs traumatic moment when he sent ritsu flying and injured him when they were kids... as i mentioned earlier, serizawa has always been a very clear parallel to mob (i can talk more about that in another post if someone asks). I was really hoping theyd go deeper into this moment in the anime but it GOT CUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! RAAUGH!!!!

and this page right after.. MAN:

BROTHER.... to me, i feel like this is the moment that made serizawa certain reigen doesnt have powers. not only does he have a talent for reading people, but he has to know by now. if he thought reigen had powers to protect himself, he wouldn't be saving his ass all the time like he does.

he knows reigen wont be fine on his own. he knows that reigen has something hugely important to tell him, important enough that reigen is willing to die to run out there and tell him

WHICH BY THE WAY THE MOST DISRESPECTFUL BUTCHERING OF A SCENE OF ALL TIME:

from what ive researched it seems like a common occurrence in japanese culture to remove your shoes before attempting suicide. this is such an intense and impactful moment for reigen to be removing his shoes. looking around and seeing the situation hes in, but still throwing himself into harms way so he can protect mob like hes done so many times before, but in this scene hes making the concious decision to go in, knowing the risk involved. INSANE THAT IN THE ANIME they made removing his shoes some sort of way to get better grip to run. obviously, running barefoot in rubble and destruction is not going to give you better foot grip.. I think they did that to make the scene more lighthearted but it just feels like poor taste.

i feel like the style choices combined with the dialogue cuts in S3 seriously take away from the intense impact of the manga. ONE has such a talent for writing characters to be fleshed out human beings as well as interpersonal relationships. season 1 and 2 did such a good job of showing that even when there had to be scene cuts.

if you havent already, I think you should for sure read the manga. its even more life changing to me than the anime already is, and ONE has a beautiful art style and can convey strong emotions better than anything else ive ever seen. I have more good serizawa moments than this that were cut, and a lot of dialoue between mob and ??? was removed too, but i don't want to spoil every funny joke or character building moment.

this is why i think everyone should read the manga and the REIGEN spin off book :) thank you for reading through this!

ps: devastated when this got cut

[cosmicgendershifter]

I'm having a fascinating time rewatching Our Flag Means Death with the knowledge that Ed sees Izzy as a "safe" mentor/family figure ("safe" because Izzy is Ed's subordinate aboard the ship, which creates a more balanced power dynamic) upon whom Ed projects his many unresolved daddy issues. That stated interpretation from David Jenkins does work, even in season one!

Most of the fandom conceptualized season one Izzy as a power-hungry subordinate to Ed and a "co-parent" to the crew (paralleled with the Stede/Mary marriage) who has an understated masochist lust for the Blackbeard legend. All of that is true too, because Ed and Izzy's relationship is incredibly complex and fucked-up. I know from personal experience that this kind of layered toxic relationship is completely possible, though it might seem contradictory on the surface.

In season one, Ed considering Izzy as a mentor/family explains more why Ed let his first mate be so insulting to and controlling of him and still kept wanting Izzy to stay beside him. It adds more meaning to how Ed veers super hard into the violent Blackbeard role after feeling cornered and threatened by Izzy at the end of the season. (This also has further weight for those of us with family members who have disapproved quite loudly of our queer relationships.)

There is a strong parallel that I noticed previously between young Ed's reaction to his father abusing his mother and season one Ed's reaction to Izzy dueling Stede. Stede is linked to Ed's mother through the red silk and through the fact that Stede and Ed's mother--and Lucius--are the only people we see treating Ed with compassion/softness in season one. It thus makes sense for Izzy to be mirroring Ed's father.

Then there's another parallel in how Ed responded to Izzy mentioning Stede in a mocking way ("pining for his boyfriend") by choking Izzy, like how Ed had once responded to his father threatening his mother by strangling his father. In this moment, Izzy touched Ed's face with an intimate kind of familiarity and said, "There he is." Ed clearly found this unnerving, which some people read as sexually harassment, but it makes just as much sense for it to be his daddy issues getting triggered.

(GIF Sources: captain-flint and divineandmajesticinone)

I think part of why this dynamic was unclear in season one is because the writers wanted us to see that, even though Izzy is a mentor figure who taught Ed certain skills, Ed is a grown man who is fully competent on his own. He had likely started building the Blackbeard legend by the time Izzy met him, he has a clever mind that's constantly coming up with new plans, and when Izzy himself was left as captain, Izzy proved to not have the necessary charisma and compassion to lead the crew. Ed is the star power; Izzy is the manager, so to speak.

However, Izzy overestimates his importance and often talks about himself like he's a martyr to the Blackbeard legend, working so hard to keep both Ed and the crew in line. He claims that he's been "clean[ing] up [Ed's] messes... my whole life," which feels like a very parental complaint to me.

Ed fuels this martyr complex some in season two by physically harming Izzy, but notably, Ed doesn't threaten this kind of harm to the rest of the crew (though he isn't very careful with them either) until he's in the suicidal spiral of driving the ship into a storm. Before that, Ed threatens Izzy specifically, both because Izzy threatened him and Stede in season one and because Ed's trying, in his own fucked-up way, to prove to Izzy that he's following Izzy's guidance and "being Blackbeard." The toe-cutting also has some metaphorical weight: Izzy demanded that Ed "cut off" the gentler pieces of himself to be Blackbeard, so Ed starts cutting off literal pieces of Izzy in return. When it becomes clear that this isn't satisfying Izzy either, that's when Ed really goes off the deep end. ("I loved you the best I could," but I never could be enough to fit your expectations.)

(GIF Source: livelovecaliforniadreams)

Meanwhile, we see Izzy starting to question things specifically in response to Ed saying that Izzy could be replaced as first mate. Izzy thought his place, as a mentor/family and self-professed "martyr", was more secure than that, and it challenges his whole identity.

Throughout season two, the mentor/family dynamic is further emphasized via the parallel between Izzy/Ed/Stede and Auntie/Zheng Yi Sao/Oluwande. Others have discussed this more, but there's so much meaning in the similar ways these characters carry themselves, in the tension of Auntie disapproving of Zheng Yi Sao's feelings for "soft" Oluwande, and in the way Oluwande finally teaches Auntie to soften herself some for Zheng Yi Sao.

(GIF Source: bizarrelittlemew)

Additionally, in episode five of season two, we see Stede turning to Izzy for mentorship, proclaiming that Ed himself had recommended Izzy as someone who "made him into the captain he is today." People have questioned that as being a false manipulation from Stede, but I think there's a good chance that it was true! (Ed probably said this to Stede sometime during season one, when the two of them got to know each other so well.) "Taught him everything he knows" is definitely a flattering exaggeration, but hey.

(GIF Source: ofmdaily)

Throughout this and other episodes, we see Izzy continuing to take on a mentor-like role with Stede and the crew (and eventually Ed) as he tries to recenter himself after the darkness of the first three episodes. It's clear that Izzy is most comfortable playing the gruff and politically incorrect old fighter who offers guidance, but now he's letting himself branch out more and connect to the crew in new gentler ways. He even metaphorically "gives his blessing" to Ed and Stede's first time having sex by providing the musical accompaniment, which is the perfect amount of weird for this show, haha.

(GIF Source: izzyfag)

Izzy's transformative arc in season two also involves a steady pattern of reversals, corrected new versions of his treatment of Ed in season one, as Izzy start coming to terms with the harm he did to Ed. Other people have discussed this in more detail, but I think the pace of this change is realistic to what you would see in such a situation. Ed's responses to this, too, are consistent with him seeing Izzy as a mentor/family.

(GIF Source: edwards-teach)

I should further note that Izzy and Benjamin Hornigold (another abusive father figure from Ed's past) are two characters mirrored by the fact that they call Ed "Eddie" in season two. I can imagine that being the nickname Ed used when he was younger, before growing out of it. Izzy seems to start feeling the echo of that memory of younger Ed when Ed comes to him scared, asking for Izzy to "fix [his] mess" by shooting Ed like Ed "dreamed" about.

(GIF Source: blairpfaff)

Right before Izzy's death, there's a scene where Ed is triggered super hard in his daddy issues by the fisherman "Pop-Pop." I think the writers wanted to remind us of the parental trauma Ed has been through before giving us some catharsis through Izzy's deathbed confession and apology. In that moment, Izzy takes full accountability for what he did, while Ed cries and says, "You're my only family." Izzy redirects him in a final bit of mentorly guidance, telling Ed that the crew is there to be his family if Ed will let himself be loved, truly, in the way Ed has often rejected and distanced himself from being loved.

(GIF Source: izzyfag)

Now, I do think Izzy's death was the right choice for this show. I like that DJenkins went with the classic mentor death trope, and he did a similar thing with Buttons, the other old-timer first mate! I agree likewise with those who have discussed Izzy's loss as being a necessary step for the narrative to move forward both from Ed's darker self/parental trauma and from the older age of piracy that Izzy represents. Izzy was always meant to be a dark reflection of and a narrative support/conflict for Ed, and this is the natural culmination of that. His complicated legacy will continue to be something Ed has to reckon with, however, although Ed is trying to compartmentalize that right now.

I very much hope to see, in season three (🤞🏻), how Ed continues to process his past, especially now that he's trying for a domestic life that will likely lead into marriage. Marriage, from what I've seen, often acts as a staging ground for whatever parental trauma you had growing up, because you look to your parental figures as an example of how to do "adult" things. This is going to be a huge conflict for both Ed and Stede, who has his own personal negative marriage experience. I suspect Izzy will continue to represent this problem in some form or another.

(GIF Sources: kiwistede and yenvengerberg)

[thischarmingmandalorian]

Like A Man Without Skin

Ghost!Agent Whiskey x Reader

Summary: Your new apartment is haunted by the ghost of the sexiest man you've ever seen. My entry for @quinnnfabrgay-writes and @hauntedhowlett-writes Monster Smash!

Pairing: Ghost!Agent Whiskey x Reader

Rating: Explicit!

Warnings: Just… so much dirty talk. Pet names (Sugar, baby, sweet girl, good girl), groping, fingering, oral (f receiving but super briefly), pussy pronouns, is it vouyerism if you're watching each other?, obviously monster fucking, reader very briefly pulls her own hair? Not very heavily edited, I tried my best but if I read it one more time I'm gonna get embarrassed. Also very much a believer I ghosts (ask me about my own haunted apartments!) but I don't know how that shit works suspend your disbelief, babes!

Word Count: 3.1k

The first night, you blamed the house settling.

You had just moved to a new apartment and always had a hard time sleeping in a new place. You weren't used to the shadows that danced across your walls, that just repainted "landlord special" smell, or whatever that sound was.

That incessant crack that echoed through your living room, right outside your bedroom door, for hours. Literally fucking hours. You wanted to believe it was the floorboards creaking. This apartment was old, part of a three-story row house in a big city, and if the sleaziness of your landlord was anything to go by, it definitely wasn't up to code. You'd actually be more worried if it was silent in your apartment.

But still, the crack that… cracked… just outside your bedroom door was unnerving to say the least. It didn't sound like any "settling house" noise you were used to, but any alternative scared you too much.

That night you slept with the light on and a desk chair propped against your doorknob.

You got used to the crack in the living room after a few nights. You'd resigned yourself to the fact that it wasn't the house settling, but what it was eluded you. It never stopped, but it became a normal part of your nightly routine. Every night around 10 pm, when you'd leave your hall bathroom and shut the bedroom door behind you, it would begin.

Crack

And then a pause. You'd count to 30, and

Crack

This went on until you fell asleep. You soon started to count the noises behind your door until you dozed off - your record was 20 cracks.

On day five you got curious. Why was the noise only at night? Why was it always in the same spot? Most importantly, what the hell was making that noise?

You weren't someone who found the idea of ghosts ridiculous. In fact, the thought of being haunted seemed like a fun story to tell your friends over drinks on your usual Friday night bar crawl. If it was a ghost making that noise in the living room, that would be fine. You just didn't love not knowing.

That fifth night you performed your nightly routine like normal. Skincare, brushed teeth, pajamas. You shut the bathroom light off and walked down the hall to your bedroom. Only tonight, you left your bedroom door open. It was 9:55, so you sat upright on your bed and waited for the crack.

10 pm came and went. 10:30, 11. The crack never came. Dejected and confused, you finally shut the lights off and laid down to sleep.

You fell into a restless slumber, tossing and turning. The lack of… crack… bothered you. Why did it stop? What the hell was it?!

In your fitful sleep, you were acutely aware of the fact that your hair had found its way in front of your face, tickling your nose. You woke very briefly to push it away, but stopped any movement the second you were conscious.

Because you felt the slightest touch sweeping your hair from your face. Which was troubling because you were, of course, alone.

You shot up in bed, slamming the light switch and illuminating the room in a soft glow. You were still alone. But then… who, or what, had touched you?

"What the fuck is happening?" you mused out loud, expecting to be met with silence. Except a new sound emerged from the empty room -

Shhhhh.

"Don't tell me to 'shhh!' You 'shhh!'"

You felt crazy shouting at no one. Even crazier when you heard the noise again.

Shhhhh.

You realized this wasn't just a sound; it was… a voice. So it was a ghost!

Internally high-fiving yourself for solving this mystery, you remembered it was the middle of the night, and you had work in the morning.

"We're not done here," you said to your invisible guest, "we'll talk about this tomorrow."

Somehow you willed yourself to shut the light back off and lay back down. Still uncomfortable with the silence, you set your phone on the nightstand and let it cycle through a playlist of ambient noise. You're back to dozing off when you hear it again.

Shhhhh.

This time the sound is joined by the feeling of someone stroking your hair. A gentle, feather-light touch against your head, sometimes letting a finger trail down your cheek. You didn't want to admit it was soothing, and you already felt crazy. Thinking your apartment was haunted was one thing, but talking to the ghost seemed like a bad way to handle it. But you were oddly comforted by the presence you felt.

"You can stay until I fall asleep, then you gotta go for tonight," you whisper. The phantom hand stills on the side of your face as you speak, resuming it's soothing strokes through your hair once you finish addressing it.

The touch continues until you fall asleep, and so does the new noise.

Shhhhh.

Shhhhh.

Right before you fell into a deep sleep, you swear the noise changed a little bit.

Shhhhh.

Shhhhh.

"Sugar."

The next morning you want to chalk up the weirdness of the night before to a dream, but you know that's not the case. You wake up well-rested and ready to start the day, and notice your bedroom door had somehow shut during the night.

"Thanks for shutting the door," you speak into the empty bedroom, opening your closet to pick out an outfit for the day. You weren't expecting a response to your gratitude, but you smile when a familiar crack sounded from the living room.

You rush to open the bedroom door, knowing the living room will be empty, but knowing your ghost was there. "Hey, crack once for yes, twice for no, ok?" You feel ridiculous until one crack echoes through the room.

While you get ready for work, you play 20 questions.

"Are you a ghost?"

Crack.

"Are you… a woman?"

Crack. Crack.

Interesting… a dude ghost.

"Did you leave after I fell asleep like I asked?"

One incredibly quick crack. You appreciate him respecting you.

By now you're ready to change into your work clothes, so you decide to up the ante. "Do you watch when I get dressed?"

The two cracks couldn't have come quicker. You grin, loving that you have a gentlemanly ghost. But you want to have some fun. It's been a while since you've met a nice, living guy, and having a ghost seems like the perfect opportunity for some built-in male attention.

"Do you… want to watch me get dressed?"

Your smirk falls when no noise is made in response. You kick yourself for scaring him away. You start to stumble over an apology when you hear the same noise from last night.

"Sugar…"

"You talk?! What the hell, dude? I've been having you crack that… whatever it is, when you could've been talking to me this whole time?"

"Sorry, Sugar."

You soften. "Why wouldn't you talk to me before?"

"Too weak."

An interesting response. "What gives you energy?"

"Your attention."

Well. That felt nice to hear. "Lucky for you, dude, I have no one else to talk to around here. If it's attention you need, attention is what you'll get! Now, back to the task at hand… do you want to watch me get dressed?"

This time, a noise you haven't heard yet. A whimper.

"Please, Sugar."

You smirk, moving to stand in front of the full length mirror in your bedroom. Slowly, you bunch your oversized t shirt up over your ass, draw it above your hips, and fist the material up under your breasts, pausing to admire your own figure in the mirror. You turn to the side, watching as your reflection shakes its ass gently.

It's weird flirting with someone you can't see and barely hear. You're feeling both emboldened and shy, sexy and self-conscious. "How's this?"

"Teasin' me?"

You grin. "You said you need my attention to get strong! The longer this takes, the more attention I'm giving you! I'll ask again: this good?"

Crack. Yes.

"What the hell is that noise, anyway?" you ask, mercifully removing your shirt entirely, standing in front of your mirror in nothing but your underwear.

"Uh… a…" another whimper interrupted your ghost's train of thought. "Whip."

"A whip?!"

Crack. Yes.

"Why does a ghost have a whip?" you ask idly, thumbing the hemline of your underwear before sliding them down your legs with a shimmy.

"Long story. How long d'ya have, Sugar?"

You grab for your phone on the nightstand, realizing that if you tease this ghost anymore you'll be late for work. "No time! Last looks, dude! Gotta get dressed!" You pose for a second with your hands on your knees, bent at the waist with your ass wiggling before pulling on your work clothes.

"Really, Sugar? You're gonna leave?"

"I gotta work if I want to be able to afford this place! You don't want me to have to move out so soon, do you? There's so much more attention I want to give you," you pout into the mirror, bottom half clothed, briefly pausing to give your ghost one last look of your bare chest.

"Before you leave, Sugar, let me touch you."

You let your hands fall to your sides, remembering the featherlight touches against your cheek the night before, shivering at the thought of feeling it again. "Go ahead," you whisper into the empty room.

The touch is similar to the one last night, only now it seems stronger. This ghost wasn't kidding about attention making him stronger. Even though you couldn't see him, you can feel his presence behind you. You can feel fingers skating up your arms, stopping at the elbows and trailing back down. The touch disappears only to return on your hips, sliding from the small of your back to wrap around your front. You lift your arms slightly to accommodate him as his hands trail further up your torso, stopping just below the swell of your chest. You feel the ghost hesitate. Normally, if this were happening with someone you could see, you'd lace your fingers through his and coax his hand up to where you need to feel him, but this was all so new still. The ghost can touch you, but can you touch him? Would it look stupid to grope around for his hand? You decide your voice is your greatest asset at this moment.

"I said go ahead."

A groan erupted from behind you, right against your ear, making you shudder. You could almost feel breath against your neck, could almost feel the weight of a head against your shoulder as the ghostly hands dragged themselves up to grope at your chest. Your head falls back and you let out a sigh, your eyes falling closed. The hands tweak at your nipples before soothing the sting with a swipe of a thumb.

You're brought out of your trance when your phone rings. You feel the phantom hands retreat from your chest, a sigh heaving from behind you. Reaching to the bed to grab your phone, you see it's your boss calling. "I've gotta take this, I'm so sorry - hello? Yeah I'm just about to - oh? That sucks, what's the - yeah, no I can do that. OK, see ya!" You hang up and throw your phone back on the bed. The clothes you had yet to put on stay neglected, and what you have put on gets shucked off your body with haste. "You still here?" you call into the seemingly empty room.

Crack.

"Dude, now that I know you can talk, I'm not accepting whip cracks for an answer."

"Still here, Sugar. What was that about?"

"Good news! A pipe burst at my office - I get to 'work from home' today," you explain, making air quotes around "work from home." You know you're not getting shit done today. "So get back over here, we're not done."

You're still standing in front of your full length mirror, admiring your naked form when something starts to… happen… behind you. At first it's a thin mist, then it slowly turns into a more solid, human form. You stare in the reflection dumbfounded as your ghost materializes - he's still somewhat transparent, very obviously not human or living, but shit.

He's hot.

He's dressed in a cowboy hat and two-piece suit. And he wasn't kidding about the whip. It was curled neatly with the handle stuck in his back pocket.

"Oh my god. My house is haunted by the sexiest man alive," you muse, forgetting for a second that he can hear you. The ghost meets your eyes in the mirror's reflection, lips curling into a smirk as he tips his hat.

"Well I'm not alive, but that's mighty kind of you to say, Sugar," the ghost replies, moving closer to you again, "can I finish what I started, now that you don't have to leave? Please? It'd make me a very happy man."

You nod, watching in the mirror as the ghost reaches for you again. He skips the pretense this time, hands going straight to your chest, resuming his kneading and pinching.

"Wha- shit - what's your name? Seems backwards to let you touch me like this when I don't know anything about you," you tease.

"Whiskey. Agent Whiskey, Sugar."

You giggle. "Agent Whiskey isn't a name. What's your real name, and what are you an agent of?"

"Jack Daniels. And I'm stuck haunting this apartment, we have time to learn everything about each other. Stop distractin' me," the ghost punctuates his request with a nibble to your earlobe.

His hands, his mouth, while mostly solid, feel tingly, cold in a way that's akin to walking through fog. His breath is warm as it huffs against your neck, a delicious push and pull of sensation. He kisses down your neck and lands a bite to your shoulder, growling quietly as you moan in front of him.

"Ain't we a sight to see, Sugar? Keep your eyes forward."

Your eyes blink back open as you meet Jack's eyes in the mirror. You watch as his hands skate down your torso, hesitating close to where you want his touch the most. "Can you… will I be able to see you…?" You're not sure how being a ghost wearing clothes works, and you don't know how to ask; you hope he gets the hint.

"The suit stays on; sorry, baby. Gonna have to use your imagination. But, if it's any consolation, I used to look real nice under all this."

"I believe you. Now quit stalling and touch me," you make an experimental grab for his ghostly hand, delighted to be able to curl your fingers around his wrist and tugging it down, down to where he dips into your folds, fingers gathering the slick from your entrance and dragging it up against your clit.

"Let's move to the bed, Sugar. Need to see her."

You waste no time pulling Jack by the wrist to your bed. You prop yourself up against your pillow, legs spread wide and face flush with arousal and anticipation. You watch Jack as he stands at the foot of your bed, gazing intently at your body laid out for him.

"Jesus, Sugar. She's drippin' - it all for me?"

You give Jack a curt nod, beckoning him closer with your outstretched hand. "Come here and touch me, please." You see Jack's face change; where there was once a pained look of arousal, there's now a feral darkness that excites you.

"Since you asked so nicely, baby."

Jack puts his knees onto the edge of your bed and you feel the faintest dip on the mattress. Your breath hitches as you watch him crawl on hands and knees to situate himself between your legs. One hand holds tight to your hip while the other dips once again into your wetness, pulling away and chuckling when you try to buck up into his touch.

"Gotta be patient, beautiful. Your attention made me stronger, but I'll never be back at a hundred percent. 'm tryin'a hold you down, play along."

You agree to Jack's game and push your hips down into the mattress, curling your hand around his at your side. "I'll be good, I promise."

Jack smirks and bends his head down to whisper praise close to your ear, "that's my good fucking girl."

Jack punctuates his words with two ghostly fingers plunging into you. You moan loudly while your free hand grapples for purchase, twisting into your hair and gently pulling. "How long…"

"More than long enough, Sugar."

You swat at Jack's arm; he grins and moves his hand from your hip to slowly circle your clit. "That's not - oh fuck - what I meant. How long have you - uh huh, just like that - been stuck here?"

"Tryin'a focus, woman. Ask me in five minutes."

"Won't have to wait that long, Jack. Not gonna last."

Jack's thumb on your clit speeds up. He adds a third finger to the two working you open, the stretch delicious. Cold and warm, solid and ethereal. You could get used to this.

Suddenly Jack shifts and takes his thumb off your clit. You begin to protest, but find yourself gazing down at him, his face now level with your dripping pussy.

"Just wanna see if I still got it, Sugar."

You feel a sudden emptiness as Jack pulls his fingers free from you and you're about to protest, but before any words can leave your mouth he licks a wide stripe from your entrance to your clit, pointing his tongue at the last second and flicking it against you once, twice…

"Fuck, I'm… shit. Jack, I'm…" Your orgasm hits so hard that what you are is incoherent. So fucked out you can't think straight. If someone asked you your name at this very moment, you wouldn't remember.

"Oh, I know you're comin', sweet girl, ain't gotta tell me. I've got a front row seat to the show. Let go, Sugar. I've got ya."

You ride the wave of pleasure for what feels like forever, hips rolling and panting, soft moans escaping from deep in your throat as you come down. When your eyes open, you find Jack staring intently at your pussy, watching it leak and pulse around nothing.

"So fucking gorgeous, Sugar. Could get used to this."

You instinctually grab at Jack's hair, gently tugging to get him to your eye level. You feel his touch against your face, gentle and cool. "You better get used to it," you smirk, "you're kinda stuck here. Don't know how hauntings work, but trust that I'm not gonna try and get rid of you. Like, ever. Not after that."

[sulumuns-dootah]

26. 12. Asmodeus - Wrapped like a gift (18+)

     ༺☆༻

⟡ Masterlist ⟡ 

⋆꙳·❅‧The Yule festival of Hell 2‧❆ ₊⋆

A/N: The ending eludes to Y/N without a dick, but can be read even if you have one (just squint your eyes at one point)

‎‧₊˚✧ 18+ Minors Do Not Interact‎ ✧˚₊‧

     ༺☆༻

The more you walk through the Abaddon castle towards Asmodeus' rooms, the more your intuition tells you that you shouldn't. There's something really unnerving about the message he's sent you:

'Y/N! Come get your Christmas gift! You'll find it on my bed ;)'

The winking emoji already had you slightly suspicious and then when all your texts inquiring about more info of the gift's nature went unanswered, the feeling of you being set up to meet your doom really set in.

By the time you reach the master bedroom door, your heart is anxiously trying to beat its way out through your ribcage.

As you're about to knock on the heavy door, a note attached to the handle by a ribbon catches your attention. The writing is in the most beautiful cursive – presumably Asmo's handwriting.

'No need to knock, just enter. I'm waiting ;)'

That emoji again. You really should turn around and call one of the other kings to come and get you out of here, but instead you take a deep breath and reach out for the handle, like the note instructed.

Slowly opening the tall door, you first see a dimly lit room full of lit candles. Stepping into the room, you see more and more of them until finally, your eyes land on the centerpiece of the whole fire hazard.

The master bed is adorned by many satin-covered pillows, which look like they're glowing in the candle flame light. And there, amidst all the glowing fabric and scattered red rose petals is Asmodeus.

He's naked, kneeling and fully restrained with his hands securely bound behind his back by ribbons. A whimper of proud obedience leaves his gagged mouth as your eyes scan his form from the top of his pitch black hair all the way down to the bow tied around the base of his very hard dick with the words 'Free use' above it in a similar fashion to Beelzebub's tattoos.

“A-asmo...?!” you exclaim in a surprise and the demon cockily smiles around the ball in his mouth while thrusting a few times into the air as if to entice you to take the opportunity to do anything with him.

You're not gonna lie, this display ignites something dangerous inside you and you yourself don't really know what might happen in the next few hours.

Only after taking a few steps towards the bed while shedding all the extra layers you're not going to need for the rest of your time here, you notice all the laid out pleasure and/or pain toys.

“Nnnghh...~!” Asmodeus impatiently whimpers with his eyes slightly rolling back, as if just your presence was enough to get him off.

You take a deep breath, partially to calm your nerves but to also stop so many ideas popping up at once.

Standing a the foot of the bed, you contemplate your first course of action with some soft humming. One part of you wants to tease him until he's unable to take it anymore and the other wants to overstimulate him.

Another impatient groan with more pathetic air thrusts interrupts your decision-making and without even thinking, you pick up the leather whip and land a few hits on one of the demon's inner thighs, “Shush... I'm still deciding.”

“Haa~!” the sudden pain makes Asmodeus moan out as his dick twitches a few times, clearly becoming desperate for any sort of stimulation. It doesn't escape you that so little was already enough for him to start producing precum, which was now lazily running down his entire length and dripping underneath him onto the satin sheet.

“I wonder... What would happen if I just left you like this... All needy for me, expecting me to pounce on you, but I don't...” you question, more as a thinking out loud since he can't really answer you much.

'Then you'd make the biggest mistake, I'll take great joy in reminding you of all the time.' a threat in a playful tone enters your mind, sounding as if Asmodeus whispered it right into your ear. Judging by the cocky smirk that's molded around the plastic ball in his mouth, it was the demon talking to you in your head. Does that also mean he can read your thoughts, then?

“Hm...” you look back down at the array of toys at your disposal. A feather duster, candle with ligther, leather whip, chain attachment for the choker he's wearing, paddle, dagger and...

Finally, your eyes land on the strap on with an attachment resembling Asmo's very own throbbing length next to a strip of black satin – presumably intended to be a blindfold. A low chuckle vibrates in your throat as a very fun way to enjoy your gift comes into your mind.

With a swift movement you snatch the cold fabric and walk around the bed to kneel behind the nicely presented demon. A shaky breath leaves his gagged lips as you tie the blindfold around his eyes, but to his disappointment, after that you're immediately getting off the bed again and walking off.

He can't see it anymore, but you're actually putting on the harness and attaching the rather disproportionate dick onto your body. On the way back to your original position the chain lead catches your eye and you take it with you.

Asmo hates to admit it to himself, but being someone else's bitch excites him as long as it's you. Still, not being able to see makes him feel on a very thrilling edge. His hearing is good, but the way you're too quiet while moving around his room is a bit unnerving to him.

The demon's head whips to the side when you get back onto the bed. With a gentle hand you guide his chin up so you can attach the chain's clasp.

By pulling on the chain, you pull Asmodeus backwards until his head is on your shoulder as you whisper right into his ear, while rubbing your borrowed dick against his ass, “Tell me, bitchboy... Has anybody else ever given you a good prostate orgasm?”

     ༺☆༻

But wait, this demon also has a gift for you!

"Ahahah, my pretty little bitch... There's yet so much for you to experience and I am more than happy to guide you through all these new things, huhu..."

[princeoftheeternalbog]

Helloooo, I’m not sure if you still do requests on One Piece characters or anything- but if you do I have a scenario in mind. I was wondering if you could do one specifically with Traflagar Law who has a S/O which gets injured and refuses his help. The S/O has a problem with accepting help and has trouble being vulnerable in front of others- only seeing it as weakness. This could also work for the other more colder One Piece characters…cause idk they just have a special place in my heart. (Though if you can’t that’s okay, but I thought I’d ask)

ALSO I read lots of your posts and absolutely love your scenarios and head-cannons, you literally portray all the characters so well and it’s amazing.

This is the cutest ask and thank you omg😭

I hope this is good🫶

And little trigger warning for descriptions of injury and blood at the beginning, I'll put a line so you know where to skip to if you don't want to read that bit.

I totally accidentally posted this so now I'm writing as it's up, forgive me😞 OKAY IT'S IN A FINISHED STATE I MAY ADD MORE AFTER I FORCE MY FRIEND TO READ OVER IT🕺🏻🕺🏻

I don't know if I'm happy with the length either i kinda feel it should be longer.

-

The soft, shlick of a blade through flesh rings in your ears. The adrenaline rushing through your body swallows any pain in an instant, but you can feel the pressure as it drags into your side and you wince anyway.

But you can't stop.

If you stop he's going to get past, he's going to hurt the people you call a family and so you can't stop.

His frame is hulking, freakishly tall and looming over you. The level of brute force he's exerting has your heart stuttering in fear, the staccato rhythm making you feel light headed. Though that could be the blood that's dripping from your side.

You hit his sternum, hard, and feel a crack. He stumbles, dazed, your fist comes up to head height and your aim is killer as it slams into the side of the man's head.

He's out cold.

The sigh of relief that exits your body almost overshadows the sudden pain resonating throughout your torso. Without an oncoming threat, you're able to take the time to lift your shirt and look at the damage. It's mostly mottled bruising but just under your lowest left rib is a long but shallow cut. Not life threatening in any way but still inconvenient.

It hurts to breathe and you're not sure if your rib bones are fully intact either, not with the way he was hitting.

The adrenaline is fading quickly, you needed to get him inside.

He'd crumpled into a very ungraceful pile when you knocked him out and it's difficult to tie him securely. But you do. And then you take a deep breath and haul him up over your shoulders in a botched fireman's lift.

Your captain would want to find out who decided it would be a good idea to send someone after the heart pirates.

Your captain would...

The last thing you think about before you hit the deck face first is him.

-

He's silent as he works.

It's almost unnerving actually, how quiet he can be when he wants to.

"Law-"

The look he shoots you is so intense that you physically shrink back, mouth closing as you drop your gaze to the floor.

He lets out a heavy sigh as he finishes disinfecting the last of his tools before he turns to you.

"What is wrong with you."

He's angry, you can feel it radiating off him, it digs into the soft underbelly of your emotions and you bristle at his words.

"I was just doing my job" Your tone is sharp but he doesn't flinch.

"Your job does not involved getting killed you idiot."

"Well I didn't get killed so it's not that big of a deal"

He looks like he's about to blow a gasket, the vein in his forehead pulsing with the renewed blood flow.

"Not a big deal? Not a big deal?"

You have the distinct feeling that you might've fucked up a little. That still doesn't stop you from digging a deeper hole to be buried in.

"I'm fine just let me deal with my own problems"

His eye actually twitches but you keep talking.

"It's barely a scratch, I don't need help- especially not yours."

The thunderous anger on his face is now accompanied by hurt, but his voice is soft when he says,

"Let me help you"

"I just said I don't need help"

"I don't think that you know what you need"

That stings. To know he doesn't trust your judgement after everything you've been through. There's a pressure at the back of your throat now and it's so uncomfortable, you need to leave.

But as you go to move, Law is much quicker as he grabs you by your upper arm, pulling you into his space.

"Where are you going"

You don't look at him.

He sighs before his other arm comes around your waist and he lifts, walking across the room to set you down onto a table.

"Why don't you understand that I care about you"

The emotion in his voice unsettles you, makes your chest feel tight and you really don't want to deal with this.

He's gentle as he gets to work on your injuries, easily cleaning and stitching up your side before moving to bind your ribs.

"I need you to remove your shirt"

Your hands are shaking, he hasn't really seen the full extent and you're sure he's not going to respond well. It's hard to get the buttons of your shirt undone so when a second pair of hands come up, you don't push them away. But him being closer means you hear the exact moment he realises how bad it is, his inhale is sharp and he says something in a language you don't know.

"Why didn't you call for backup?"

You take a while to respond, trying to squash down any emotion in your voice,

"I didn't need it"

"Did you want it?"

The question makes you squirm with discomfort, your eyes water.

"It doesn't matter because I didn't need it"

He sighs again. That's all you seem to be making him do today.

And then his arms are coming up around you, pulling you closer to the edge of the table and closer to him. One of his hands rests on your back and the other pushes your head into the crook of his shoulder, allowing you a semblance of privacy in such an intimate moment.

"You need to understand that not letting us help you is counterintuitive to being part of a crew"

The statement makes you flinch and you try to push away from him but that fight took a lot of your strength. His grip tightens anyways.

"Do you think I find it easy to be vulnerable?"

"...No"

"Do you think I would want you to die?"

You don't respond this time, chest heaving as you tremble.

"It's not easy to see you like this. You are not a human shield."

"I know" Your voice is quiet and thick with tears but he seems to relax slightly at your agreement.

The hand on your back is moving in gentle shapes, but his grip is still firm, as if he's trying to affirm that you're here and alive.

"I can't have a crew member that doesn't trust anyone"

You tense.

"I can't have a partner that won't be vulnerable with me"

Guilt and dread roll through your stomach. Surely he doesn't mean-

"I can't trust that you won't die because you feel can't rely on others so you're benched until we work through it"

Oh. You actually feel a bit relieved, you thought he was going in a much different direction. You lean back out of his hold so you can look at his face through wet eyes.

His expression is soft but he looks tired and the guilt rears it's head again.

"I'm sorry"

Somehow his expression gets even softer,

"I know"

He kisses you then. It's grounding, brings you back to a semblance of calm and you almost wonder why you were so apprehensive in the first place. He's gentle and warm and you feel slightly self conscious that your lips might be puffy from crying but you don't pull away.

It's reverent, like he worships you.

You think you could learn to let him take care of you.

You think you would let him do anything.

If it feels like this.

[concreteangel92]

Thou Shalt Not Kill - Chapter 9

AU Noah Sebastian x female reader

18+

Summary: Reader is a detective and is assigned to a murder case which she soon connects with previous killings and figures out the religious affiliation, proving there is a new serial killer within the city. Reader soon becomes obsessed with the killers mind and methods and won’t rest until she figures out who the killer is. All while she gets used to working with her new partner on the case, detective Noah Davis.

Warnings: talks of death, talks of murder/killings, use of religion, the starting of stockholm syndrome

Right, I really shouldn’t have to write this but I’m giving fair warning now!!

In this chapter we once again MENTION the passing of someone close to Noah (this AU version of Noah!) it’s been briefly used before and no one had any issues with it.

However I am aware of a lot of drama with another account who has used the death of someone who was close to Noah within their story. I’m going to clarify that I have not read this story, I do not intend to read that story and I have no interaction with this person anymore so I really don’t know the details or how much this trauma has been used but from what I’ve seen/heard, it caused a huge uproar.

My dad passed away 10 years ago, I fully understand the soul destroying pain and would never use something so carelessly! But it’s a huge detail that needs to be here. I can assure everyone that it shouldn’t be mentioned again (unless necessary!) and I hope it doesn’t cause any offence, I’m not going into details in this chapter at all, simply mentioning it to help the story progress.

I hope everyone can understand this and I really don’t want any negative comments, an adult discussion is fine if you really need to talk but not these petty trolls that I’ve been seeing please and no passive aggressive posts, they are childish, just message me if you have an issue

Thank you and I hope you enjoy!!

Tags: @Ima1986 @hayleylatour @reyadawn @thatchickwiththecamera @calleyx13 @english-fucker @darling-millicent-aubrey @malerieee @ithoughtbynowidfeelbetter @softvgold @lilhobgobbler @glccmreid @badomensls @madomens @loeytuan98 @iluvmewwwww75 @rosebushjhj @livingdeceasedgirl @lilrubles @samanthasgone @blackveilomens @hellayeahsworld @lookwhatitcost @doomhands-jr @nojoyontheburn @poisongirl616 @bakanerd @sacredthefran @flowery-mess

MASTERLIST

Chapter Index

9 days had gone by, just over a week you’d been stuck in this basement.

It was the same routine most days, Noah would bring you food or make sure a sandwich and drinks were left for you if he knew he wouldn’t be around, you assumed he was still going to work. Noah had mentioned it once that he was keeping up appearances but for how long was anyone’s guess.

Of course your work believed that you were ‘on leave’ so why would they be looking for you? You would have assumed someone would have tried to get hold of you by now but you were sure Noah has probably taken care of that, he was too smart to make any small mistakes and he kept any conversations like that to a minimum.

Noah had taken the time to bring a load of your clothes and toiletries from your apartment, clearly knowing you’d be here awhile. The days were very long at first, you had nothing to simulate your mind, you actually started looking forward to Noah coming in just so you had someone to talk too.

The times when Noah was here, he sat and ate with you normally, acting like you really were just two friends having a catch up, it was almost unnerving how normal it was.

The first few days you’d spent screaming out but no one heard or came, clearly he wasn’t lying about it being soundproofed. You’d analysed the room a thousand times, trying to figure a way out. The window was far too high for you to reach and even if you could, it was too small for you to fit through.

You’d tried to think of ways to over power Noah when he came in but thinking of all the cases and how strong he must truly be to have executed them, you knew that would be suicide.

Once you’d realised that all chances of an escape were slim, you started to accept your fate, you were completely at Noah’s mercy.

In a strange way, you almost relaxed after that, what was the point in stressing out about something you couldn’t change at this stage, you decided it was better to save your energy and strength for when you needed it, you were sure that an opportunity would present itself when the time was right.

The days had become very long after this however, you had counted every crack in the ceiling, tried to get lost in day dreams in your mind but that only worked for so long.

So now seeing Noah was a breath of fresh air within your day.

Noah had been nothing but the perfect gentleman, he made sure you had all the food and drinks needed, he even brought down fresh bedding for you and took away your dirty clothes to bring them back all clean and folded. He made sure you had clean towels for the shower room that was down here. It was almost like he took pride in looking after you.

“He’s holding you hostage you idiot! This ain’t a holiday hotel!”

Noah would talk about most things with you, he’d discuss history, music, art. He was actually so much more interesting and intelligent than you’d ever realised now you were seemingly getting to know him better, although he was very careful about certain subjects such as the case, work, etc.

Today you were lying on your bed, in your mind you were thinking about your favourite holiday that you’d been on, it felt like a life time ago now but you tried to relive it day by day, picturing that you were anywhere but here in this dark basement.

You heard the sound of footsteps so you sat yourself up, maybe a bit quicker then you should have. The door opened and in walked Noah.

“Afternoon angel, how are you doing?”

You decided to be honest with him.

“Bored, I’m so bored. If you’re going keep me here, can I at least have something to do when you’re not here! There’s only so many cracks around the room I can count before I’ve memorised them”

Noah smiled slightly as your attempt at some humour and nodded.

“Actually I’ve brought you some things today. I realised you must be bored with nothing much to do so I picked up some things from your apartment”

With that, Noah lifted up the bag he’d been carrying and he pulled out some of your books from home and an old radio. The gesture actually taking you back.

“I…uhh…thank you”

“Can’t have that brilliant mind going lazy on me now can we?”

You couldn’t help but laugh with him.

•••••

A couple more days had passed, very much the same as before but this time you actually had stuff to keep you occupied during the days.

Noah was still acting like this was a normal situation, there was no mention of the case or anything over the last few days.

There was one thing about the case that still bothered you however, something you hadn’t dared bring up to Noah incase it triggered a bad reaction. But today you decided you had nothing to lose by talking to him about it. So you waited until he came in with dinner for both of you and you were sat eating together before you approached the subject.

“Noah…can I ask you a question? I need to know something”

Noah’s brown eyes met yours as you clearly peaked his interest, he tilted his head as he looked over you.

“Depends what it is but go on”

You took a breath, moving your food to the side and you tried to make sure you worded everything very carefully.

“Your first victim, Anthony…who was he to you?”

Noah’s expression had become harder to read as he stared at you.

You watched him lick his lips before he answered with a small smirk.

“Still not figured that out detective?”

You shook your head.

“I didn’t really have the time….from what I read however, I assume he was the first. ‘Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven images’ but who was he to you? That kill seemed more….personal and it was….different….to the others”

Noah didn’t say a word, he simply ran his eyes over your face but you noticed the relax expression from before was gone.

“He’s a killer…not my friend”

He stood up from his position on the bed and paced slowly, almost like he was calculating his next words.

You felt every nerve in your body on edge, you knew the risk of pushing this man but you’ve done it anyways.

“Anthony Jackson was my first kill, and you’re right, he was different….more sloppy I’d say….I’ve definitely improved on my work since”

Noah stalked closer towards you so you made the point of standing up, mostly so he wasn’t completely towering over you.

“You really want to know angel? Very well. My first kill was the man responsible for the death of my father”

Your mouth fell open in shock at his words and you listened intently to what he had to say.

“After all those years of never knowing who was responsible, when I became a police officer I managed to do some digging and I eventually found him” Noah’s face became very hard as he carried on. “It wasn’t easy, but when I realised it was him, I knew I couldn’t let him go. Would you believe that Anthony was a religious man? And yet he got away with murder, it wasn’t fair that he ruined my life and just carried on living his unpunished!”

Noah was stood in front of you now but you didn’t move away, you now understood, you understood why he started this in first place.

“You said you were raised religious…did you stop believing the da…that day?”

“Yes. I knew that there was no such thing as a god if he could take everything away from me”

You nodded as you took it all in, still be very careful not to provoke him.

“I didn’t do anything for years and years, but once I found him, I knew what my purpose was. As I said, I’ll admit it was more sloppy but that’s what they call a ‘crime of passion’ after all”

You were still putting all the pieces together within your mind, all of it was truly starting to make sense now…apart from one thing.

“If he was ‘thou shalt not make unto thee any graven images’ then why his heart? I can understand the fact he was religious but had murdered someone, from the crime scene photo I saw in that email, I could see religious items in the background. But I don’t understand why the heart was your main focus?”

Noah couldn’t seem to stop the sinister smile from spreading on his lips.

“He ripped my heart out so I simply returned the favour”

The memory of your own dad’s passing suddenly felt so fresh in your chest. You couldn’t help but reach your hand out to touch his, the action causing his eyes to follow your movements, clearly not anticipating it.

“I’m so sorry”

For a brief moment, you actually thought you saw genuine emotion in his eyes at your words. You understood the pain of losing a father young and in such a cruel way.

“He was the beginning of my work, it was poorly executed, but it was what gave me my inspiration, to send a message in the most profound way possible and I’ve nearly done it”

Noah raised his hand to your face and ran his fingers over your cheek gently.

“The thing is angel, we are the same me and you, you get me, you’re the only person on my level. You’re just like me”

Your brows scrunched together as you took in his words, in some ways, you knew he was right but the other part of you knew you shouldn’t listen.

“You know I’m right, even if you try to deny it”

You subconsciously leaned your head into his hand as you mulled over his words. You both had gone through terrible things in life, no one really understood you, especially at work. Noah always believed in you, he knew you could do the job better than most.

Looking up you noticed he had his shirt unbuttoned and his tattoo across his neck was on full display, it was then when you truly noticed the religious symbolism.

Without thinking you brought your hand up to his skin and traced the ink with your fingers, hearing his breath catch slightly as you did.

“Easy angel”

You looked back up into his eyes to see they had dilated, your fingers rested on the side of his neck, your stomach twisted in knots. You didn’t even really know what you were feeling as it was all mixed up together in your mind.

Noah leant his down to you and pressed his lips against yours, he was gentle at first but when you didn’t immediately pull away, his other hand wrapped around the back of your neck and he pulled your body against his.

“Wrong, wrong, so very wrong!”

Noah pulled away, his hands still holding onto you as he stared down at you.

“I shouldn’t be doing this”

Noah smiled at yours words and started to stroke your hair before he pressed one more kiss onto your lips.

“Says who? I am starving, you’re starving. I can taste it on you. Who says this is wrong?”

You continued to gaze up at him, your mind in complete overdrive.

“I…I can help you Noah”

“I really wish you could angel”

And with that Noah turned and walked out of the room, the locking sound ringing in your ears.

Chapter 10

[sarahscribbles]

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞. 𝐇𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝.

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤: 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐.𝟓𝐤

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You know you’ve danced with the devil before you even enter your bedroom.

The double doors to the room are shut, but Loki’s displeasure seems to permeate from within, making the air in the hallway feel heavy and sending your heart thundering within your chest. He hadn’t appreciated the little game of cat and mouse that you had initiated at Nat’s birthday party - something that was all too clear when he skulked from the room an hour ago - and now you’re left to wonder if you’ve sorely miscalculated by trying to play the God of Mischief at his own game.

You had only wished to provoke him into some angry sex against the nearest horizontal surface - and maybe again against a flat one for good measure - but now? Now, you’re running through a list of what might be waiting for you on the other side of the doors

Loki, afterall, has punished you for less - the thought of which sends a shiver down your spine and a pleasant tingle between your thighs. 

When you finally push open one side of the doors, you step into a room in shadow. The only light in the room comes from the twin lamps that adorn your separate bedside cabinets, but it’s enough to see Loki sat in the chair by the bottom of the bed. One long leg is crossed over the other and a book is lying open across his lap, though you know he isn’t reading it. He doesn’t look up at the sound of the door snapping closed in the latch, or at your footsteps on the wooden floors. 

Oh. 

His silence is unnerving and makes your stomach flip in excited trepidation. He knows exactly what he’s doing in dragging this out, knows exactly how to play with your mind as expertly as he plays with your body. His soul is bound to yours, and it’s one thing he’ll always use to his advantage. 

It’s only when you begin to noticeably fidget that he decides to speak. 

“I do hope you didn’t leave the party because of me, darling.” You hear his deep voice purr while attempting to unbuckle the strap of your heels. It doesn’t budge no matter what you do, and you’re suddenly very aware of the heavy weight of Loki’s gaze resting on you. “No. They stay on.”

A brief pulse of irritation surges through you. “Loki, it’s been hours. I need -,” you begin, but the sound of his book slamming closed silences you instantly. 

Oh shit.

“It has been hours,” he replies, his voice deadly but still smooth as silk. “Hours since I last saw you at the beginning of the celebrations. Now, why would that be?”

Your painted lips quirk in the beginning of a smile, but you’re quick to bite it back. “I was only playing the game that you’re always to eager to start, my prince,” you reply sweetly, making sure to flutter your eyelashes at him. 

Loki’s gaze doesn’t leave you, and the brat slowly awakening inside you refuses to back down. You raise an eyebrow and you swear you see the corner of his mouth twitch.

“I wasn’t in the mood for games, darling,” he says quietly. “I had an entire evening planned for you. One that would only end when your voice was hoarse.” 

That same tingle of anticipation, of promise, sizzles to life between your thighs again and sets your blood on fire. 

“Maybe if you had worn a different suit I might have been interested,” you reply breezily, not missing the slight narrowing of his eyes. 

“By all means, continue to be a brat, darling. You’re only succeeding in prolonging your punishment.” His voice wraps around soft as velvet, but with just enough of an edge that you know he means it. 

“Oh, no! What are you going to do, Loki? Fuck me into the mattress? Please, have mercy!” you tease him because you love nothing more than digging your own grave. 

Loki lifts the book from his lap - an elaborate hardcover that you bought him the previous Christmas - and lets it fall from his hands to the floor, the resounding thump echoing that of your own heartbeat.

“Over here. Now,” he says.

The commanding timbre of his voice lights a fire in your veins - he’s fully committed to being dominant tonight, but, unfortunately for him, you’re equally committed to being a brat. 

His eyes roam over you as you cross the room, taking in every inch - or lack of inches - on the little black dress you’re wearing. He doesn’t stop until his eyes reach your feet, still locked in your heels by his magic, and you swear you see the bastard smirk. 

Loki leans back in the chair, spreading his thighs obscenely wide while he rests one elbow on the armrest. The other is dangling loosely over the side as he appraises you like you’re a prized portrait he’s considering purchasing. 

It’s predatory and hungry, but it only makes your cunt throb. 

Elegant fingers toy with his lips as he continues to watch you, but they don’t hide the smirk that’s only grown across his handsome face. “I thought you had realised by now, darling,” he purrs, shifting his hips so you can see the faint bulge at the front of his trousers. “You don’t stand a chance of ever winning these little games.”

“Who said the game is over?” you reply, surprised at how sassy you’ve managed to sound. 

Loki’s eyes smoulder as he looks at you, a roaring flame of arousal and determination reflected back at you. The intoxicating feeling of seeing so clearly what you do to him is something you’ll never grow tired of. 

“Me,” he says simply.

It’s one word, one tiny word, but it squashes out any remaining push back that was in you. The game is over and you lost. 

You feel a sudden pressure at your back, enough to startle you before you realise he’s using his seidr to push you towards him. Each step is one that’s out of your control, and you hit his knees at the same time he reaches out to easily maneuver you across them, resting a strong arm across your upper back to hold you in place. 

“God of Overreacting much?” you huff quietly, something that earns you a firm smack to your ass. You’re still covered by the soft material of your dress, so it doesn’t hurt much, just enough to make you fall silent.

For now.

Loki’s cool fingers dance along your bare thigh, back and forth, back and forth, sending a pleasant tingle shooting through your lower stomach. His touch has the power to both ground you and excite you, it’s comforting and electrifying.

It’s Loki.

“Are you going to continue being a brat? Or are you going to take your punishment like a good girl?” he asks quietly.

Those sinful fingers are still ghosting over your skin in a silent threat, almost daring you to give a contrary answer. “I’ll be good,” you answer because, truthfully, what other choice do you have?

Loki releases a hum of approval. “Good girl,” he purrs, using one skilled hand to slide the hem of your dress over the swell of your ass. “Nothing underneath, darling? My, my, what were you hoping for this evening?” 

He’s given you the perfect opening, one that you can’t pass up even though you know you’ll regret it. Loki will make sure of that. “To see if what everyone says about Bucky’s metal arm is true,” you reply. 

You know you’ve waved a red flag to a bull, and it’s only confirmed when Loki’s hand comes down again in a decidedly harder smack. This time, it’s enough to make you hiss quietly in pain. 

“Continue to be a brat and you’ll have no release tonight. Understood?” His tone is firm, leaving no doubt that he will deny you if you push him any further.

With your orgasm potentially on the line, you’re quick to answer him. “Yes, Loki,” you reply obediently, submissively. 

Above you, all you can hear is the deep, steady sound of his breathing and the barely perceptible rustle of his clothing. The uncertainness is tantalisingly teasing, especially with how his hand is slowly caressing your ass in a wordless promise of what’s to come. 

It’s enough to have you clenching desperately around air. 

“How many, darling, hmm?” he asks finally, mischief dripping like honey from every syllable. 

It’s a cruel game he plays with you. If you guess too low, he’ll double your answer, but if you guess too high, he’ll call you his little masochist and follow through gladly. 

Because Loki can be a bastard when the mood strikes him. 

“Ten?” you answer slowly, feeling your heart thudding in your chest with anticipation. 

There’s a beat of silence after you speak, long enough that a cold fear begins to weave through you. You’ve guessed too low. You played it safe and any second you’re going to hear that velvet laugh of his before he mocks you.

Maybe, if he’s feeling particularly sadistic, he’ll make you beg for more. 

When he finally speaks, you release a quiet breath of relief. “Ten aside? I’m inclined to agree with you, dove,” he concedes. 

You bite your tongue. You hadn’t meant ten aside, but you know he’s being merciful, and you’re in no position to tease the dragon tonight. You swallow a whimper and brace for the force of his hand, but as the seconds keep ticking by, it still doesn’t come. He’s playing with you, making you wonder and wait, so that when his hand lands firm and fast against your ass, you can’t help the sharp shriek of shock that escapes you. 

“Count, darling,” Loki warns. “And remember to thank me.” 

You take a breath, steadying yourself now that the initial shock is waning. “One. Thank you, Loki.” 

Your ass stings in the aftermath, crying out for Loki’s cool soothing touch, but he refuses to give you it. Instead, his skilled fingers dip between your thighs to expertly tease your clit. 

“Good girl,” he praises you, all while you’re quietly moaning at how good his touch feels, even going so far as to try and spread your legs. Loki only chuckles. “I don’t think so, darling,” he teases and removes his hand. 

A mewl of discontent slips past your lips before you can stop it. “Please, Loki,” you plead, rocking your hips against his knees in a vain search for friction. 

He doesn’t answer nor entertain your plea, instead only brings his hand down sharply again. The sound of flesh hitting flesh seems to echo around the room, but it doesn’t mask the sound of your pained groan. 

“Two. Thank you, Loki,” you hastily find your voice. It hurts more than you thought it would, but you’re also wetter than you thought you would be. 

His little masochist indeed.

The next few are rained down so rapidly that you don’t get even a second to recover. They’re swift and so firm that you won’t be surprised if there’s an outline of Loki’s hand on your ass tomorrow morning. He isn’t going easy on you tonight, and it doesn’t take long until your ass is burning and the occasional tear is slipping down your cheeks.

He pauses after seven to let you catch your breath, blessedly caressing your skin to soothe the burn, though you know without a doubt he’s taking the time to admire his handiwork. The coolness of his touch feels so heavenly that you’re almost whining when it leaves to dip back between your thighs. 

“You’re doing so well, dove. I’m very proud of you,” he murmurs gently, teasing your clit until the first faint stirrings of an orgasm begin to lurch to life. “Only three more, but, I must warn you, they’ll be the most difficult.” 

Just like that, his fingers are gone, and you have to fight the overpowering urge to beg for him. As much as he enjoys it, you know he won’t waver tonight. You release a breath and nod, only partially hearing Loki’s “good girl” before his hand connects with your ass again. The force of it is enough to make you cry out and grit your teeth.

It also makes the ache between your thighs multiply tenfold. 

“Eight. Thank you, Loki,” you say shakily. It stings so bad, but you’re determined to see it out to the end. You’re determined to be his good girl. 

His hand leaves again, only to land with equal force on the same spot as before. Your ass has never hurt so badly. 

“Fuck!” You curl your hands into fists and groan. “Nine. Thank you, Loki.” 

You wait nervously for the final one. You know he’s going to make it the worst, the one that will likely leave a colourful bruise in its wake, and the anticipation has your stomach doing summersaults. 

But when that final smack comes, it’s barely more than a love tap to your ass. 

Your entire body deflates gratefully. “Ten. Thank you, Loki,” you finish. 

As quickly as it started, your punishment is over. The heavy weight of Loki’s arm is lifting from your upper back and he’s easily gathering you up and twisting you around so you’re straddling him. Without a word, he’s wiping the last of your tears away with the soft pads of his thumbs. 

“There’s my good girl,” he says softly, now cradling your face in his hands. “I’m so very proud of you, my darling.” 

His praise has a golden warmth bubble happily in your core. Your sore ass is entirely worth it if Loki calls you his good girl. 

“I’m sorry for avoiding you. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, love,” you say quietly. You are sorry - you know how quickly Loki’s mind can feed him lies out of something innocent, and you never want to be the source of any of his hurt. 

He hushes you and, before you can draw breath, he’s pulling you into a kiss. It’s slow but hungry, soft but filled with all the raw desire for you that’s pulsating through his blood. You wrap yourself around him easily, twisting your hands into those silky curls and losing yourself to the taste of him. 

Your god, your Loki. 

His hands drift to cup your ass, and you can’t stop the grateful hum against his lips at that soothing coolness. It’s something that Loki doesn’t miss, and you feel him smile into your kiss. 

“Would you rather this? Or would you rather I reward you for your exemplary behaviour?” he teases, smirking wickedly at you as his hands continue running over your ass. 

You pretend to think. “What does this reward entail?” you ask coyly. 

“It entails you and I in that bed for the next few hours,” he says, leaning in to begin placing tiny kisses along the column of your neck.

You hum while his lips continue to travel along your neck and across your collarbone. “I’ll take it.”

[fanaticsnail]

Snail Life Update

Previous update here.

We are celebrating small victories today, and with the arrival of a doctor in the mail from some beautiful friends to support me through this scare, I thought I'd put my old bartending background to good use and make something special. Thanks for my Chopper, @feral-artistry. I love him 🥹.

Cocktail: Four Pillars Yuzu Gin, Choya Umeshu, Aperol, fresh mandarine juice, and half an egg white (laid by our Araucana hen, Consuela). Shaken with ice, garnished with mandarine peel and grated dried strawberries (there is also an umeshu plum in the bottom). It is not too sweet, bitter from the Aperol, and sour from the citrus 👌.

Update under here. Likely TMI, and TW for medical talks.

The long and short of it, without being too graphic, is that there is a growth going on in my chest, the left-hand side near where the clot blockage in my armpit is sourced. I have some microcalcification going on, found in the mammogram "panini press" and ultrasound, that is deemed safe for now.

Antibiotics did nothing to shift the clot in my arm, but it is gradually going down and down. The pain is still there, but it's not as intense and unbearable as it initially was. So far, I'm managing. Given how large the vein is raised, everyone was quick to say "cancer" to which, if we're being fair here, is absolutely a possibility with the development of the microcalcifications in my future.

For now, it's being read as benign - so I'm celebrating the victories as they come! I'm at ease with the information, but it's a little unnerving that I have to have it ferment in my chest for another year's time to ensure he was correct in the initial diagnosis.

There is very, very, newfound knowledge that breast cancer is hereditary, and my doctor was very hasty to order a test for me. I am thankful for the care I received from him, he is spectacular. For now, I get to just take paracetamol for the pain, and ibuprofen and aspirin to aid in the flow of blood to ease the pressure (or today, this pretty nice cocktail, if I do say so myself).

This One Piece Community is amazing, and I cherish all of you so, so much. Thank you for letting me share my stories here with you. If you've read this far, know I care so deeply for you, and I hope your day is as happy and bright as mine has been made now. Cheers 🍸.

[bri-cheeses]

Fiercely and obsessively (wrapped around your finger) — Part 3

| Rosekiller Soulmate AU | Previous part is here | Word Count: 687 |

-

“Hey Reg, how come you’ve never shown us your soul mark?”

Barty’s question came out of the blue, causing Regulus to startle up from where he had been pouring over his essay. Evan laughed a little, presumably at his bewildered expression.

“I’m working, Crouch. I don’t have time to indulge your fancies. That’s Evan’s job, not mine.”

Next to him, Evan’s face deepened into a scowl.

“You’re horrible,” he said, which was kind of uncalled for. Regulus was a little bit right, was he not? Evan indulged him, he indulged Evan, and it was the perfect friendship. And who cared if it was maybe a little too codependent, at least they knew what the other meant to them.

“Knew that already,” Regulus responded breezily, then went back to reading over his writing with a bored expression. Evan rolled his eyes.

“You’re dodging the question,” he said.

And wait—he was right, wasn’t he? Regulus was trying to tiptoe around having to answer, and it was lucky Barty had Evan by his side, because he probably wouldn’t have picked up on that on his own.

Regulus’s eyes flicked up. Very deliberately, he explained, “I haven’t shown you my soulmate mark because it’s not very important in the grand scheme of things, and I don’t care much about it.”

“Ha, right,” Barty blurted, not able to stop himself from saying it. “I think that you actually care quite a bit, and are just worried that your soulmate won’t be who you want it to be.”

Regulus stilled.

“Who would I want it to be?” His voice was calm and controlled, but his left pinky twitched from where it was holding his quill.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Barty grinned. “How about a certain captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team?”

Regulus’s hand tightened on the quill. His other balled into a fist.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said stiffly. Which was a dead giveaway, really, considering Regulus always slipped into that tone of voice whenever he got defensive.

“Touchy, are we?” Barty’s voice was just a tad too gleeful, but really, it was way too much fun to get Regulus riled up. “Can’t imagine why.”

“You know,” Regulus snapped, “I’m not the only one here who gets touchy whenever the topic of soulmates comes up.”

There was a threat lurking behind Regulus’s words, but it was tangled up enough that it was difficult to figure out. Barty frowned.

“Me? I’m really not that sensitive about it, but—”

“Not you,” Regulus interrupted, and his eyes fell onto Evan. Barty turned to look.

“Leave me out of this,” Evan warned lowly. Barty’s eyes widened. Evan had never sounded so deadly before, but Barty wouldn’t lie and say that it wasn’t a little captivating to see.

“You brought yourself into this the second you pushed me into answering,” Regulus told him. They were staring each other down, not sparing a single glance for Barty and effectively leaving him on the outside of whatever private exchange was going on here. “How long is it until that little dream of yours is crushed? A week? Two weeks?”

Barty frowned. The only important thing coming up within that time frame was Evan and Pandora’s birthday, but that didn’t have anything to do with this.

“You don’t know that’s what will happen,” Evan said, voice strained. Regulus tilted his head.

“We’ll see. In the meantime, leave me alone about my soulmate mark. Sound good?” The eyebrow Regulus raised was cool and cutting, and it came as somewhat of surprise that Evan didn’t flinch away from it.

“Fine,” he said instead of doing just that. And finally, he turned his gaze on Barty. “I’m going back to the dorm,” he told him. His voice was startling toneless, and it was unnerving.

“Uh, sure,” Barty responded, absolutely and fundamentally bewildered. But Evan was gone before he could ask about whatever had just gone on here, so Barty was left to turn to Regulus.

“I’m sorry, what just happened?” he asked.

Regulus just shook his head.

“If you can’t figure that out,” he said, “then I can’t help you.”

-

(Part 4 is here)

[ancha-aus]

DoubleNoot AU Drabble - Next Steps

I got time! Time to write my version of what the next part of the DoubleNoot AU timeline is! Noot² for some :D

Last time on DoubleNoot Adventure! Corrupt split and caused the original Nightmare to return in the heat of battle! As a reaction he took his mates and the newly arrived child and took them back to his home and hideout.

@mikimakiboo Made their own version of this meeting but I also wanted to write it myself and how I see it happening :3 Still their drabble is amazing and everyone needs to show it love :D (yes i linked it last time but come on. This drabble is actually the counterpart to it!)

Also fair warning. I am keeping the pregnancy joke alive. I am not letting that go. It is too funny and too fitting for me. So... warning? discussions of mpreg.

No edits or beta we just going :D (warning. It is a long read.)

*----------------------------*

There... There is a tiny skeleton in his arms. A shaking and terrified skeleton. Corrupt glances around and very slowly places the skeleton on the couch. Only to have to dive back closer to catch him from falling over. Corrupt ends up putting Nightmare in the corner of the couch to enable him to lean against two sides.

There... Is a child. In his house.

One he had thought had died. Correction. One Corrupt had thought he had killed.

What... What does he do now?

Corrupt had reacted impulsive. He doesn't actually have a plan. He just knew he had to get himself and his mates away from the Stars, even if he already felt much better.

Okay. He needs to focus.

Corrupt needs to check his mates and make sure they are okay. Needs to make sure the Stars didn't hurt any of them while he crumbled.

Why is it so hard to look away from Nightmare? Corrupt can't look away. He keeps staring at the young skeleton.

He looks scared as he looks around the area. Pushing himself back against the couch as his chest moves quickly wiht his fast breathing. His clothes are absolutely filthy and goop isn't even the thing that makes it most dirty. Not there is still old dust and blood on his clothes which are ripped and also covered in mud.

But the bones? While also covered with dirt there isn't even a scratch on Nightmare. Which surprises Corrupt. Nightmare had his skull smashed in. Had suffered years of abuse of those villagers. Yet here he sits. Whole. Not as much as a bruise on him.

The only thing that seems wrong is that Nightmare seems to have lost control over his body, but he had also been inactive for 500 years so this may more be a matter of him having to relearn how to walk and move..

Okay. Stop. Think. Waht do you know for sure?

Corrupt just... split in two and Nightmare was removed from his being. Aparently he had Nightmare resting in his body since the apple accident. Maybe instead of forming from Nightmare he formed around Nightmare... it would explain why Corrupt never actually saw Nightmare or dust from him. Corrupt had always assumed that Nightmare hadn't dusted because of his treespirit nature.

Now.

Nightmare had been in his body, aparently slowly healing, and is now out of his body. Corrupt frowns. How come that he has Nightmare's memories in that case? Is it because Nightmare was the one to eat the apple? Does that mean that all those things he remembers and remembered feeling was all Nightmare and never his own.

Corrupt takes another depe breath to try and stay focussed. He still glances to make sure Nightmare is still where he left him. He is.

Okay. Corrupt will ahve to think about everything that this means later. Now he has to make sure everyone is okay... also make sure that Nightmare gets clean and situated. It... unnerves him to not have Nightmare with him. Corrupt doesn't knwo a lot but knows his being misses having Nightmare close.

"Euh... Moonlight?"

Corrupt frowns and turns slowly.

Killer looks between Nightmare and Corrupt "You know... I know we aren't always the most... serious bunch... but you could have told us you were pregnant... we could have handled it and could have helped."

It takes amoment before Corrupt sputters and glares at one of his mates "I wasn't pregnant!" He snaps but sees Ngihtmare flinch at the sound. Corrupt mentally decides to not shout anymore.

Killer just raises a brow as he crosses his arms before looking pointly at Nightmare "Really? Because that is a whole ass child-"

Cross shoots him a disapproving look "Don't curse!"

Killer blinks and looks over "The kid is already like... eight?" he tilts his skull at Nightmare.

Nightmare however shrinks in on himself as he tries to disappear into the couch.

Corrupt answers instead "He is ten actually. Just... tiny." he frowns. aparently Nightmare is just short? Corrupt himself is also short and he took some of his appearances over from Nightmare...

Killer frowns "Wait... ten years? How long have we all been together?" He looks very disappointed "We aren't the dads?"

Corrupt sputters again but manages to keep his voice down "I wasn't pregnant."

Horror speaks up as he glances up from his phone "According to the definition of giving birth which is: The emergence of a baby or other young from the body of its mother; the start of life as a physically separate being." Horror waves into the direction of Ngihtmare "Young." and he just looks pointedly at Corrupt.

Corrupt sighs as he rubs his face "I wasn't pregnant. I didn't give birth." he looks at Nightmare and frowns "I didn't even... i thought he was dead..." Nightmare stares back at him but gets a tiny frown on his face. Corrupt isn't sure what is on his face... probably grief. there always is grief when he thought about Nightmare.

Cross joins his side and holds his hand "hey... you could also have told us you miscarriaged... We could have helped..." he smiles.

Corrupt rubs his skull as he shakes his skull "No. I wasn't pregnant... Meet... Nightmare." Ngihtmare flinches at his name and when the others all start staring at him. Shit. Corrupt regrets that...

Dust frowns "I thought you said..."

Corrupt groans as he takes a deep sigh "I know... I know what i said. I thought the same. This is also very much a surprise for me."

"how do you know my name?"

silence and Crorupt looks back at Nightmare. Ngihtmare still looks terrified. He is obviously terrified. but he has a very tiny stubborn glare on his face. One hand has formed a fist and is shaking sligthly. Nightmare keeps staring at Corrupt specifically.

Corrupt blinks and speaks softly "I.... What do you remember?" does he remember everything that Corrupt remembered?

Nightmare frowns as he thinks before looks at Corrupt distrusting "You first. What do you know?"

Killer snorts "suspicious little fellow." he points at Corrupt "That is corrupt. I am Killer." he points everyone out as he names everyone. Corrupt is watching closely and can see more and more panick appear in Ngihtmare's posture as each name is given.

right... Very unfriendly names. Corrupt now regrets not agreeing to taking a friendlier name. He makes the decision as he walks over to Nightmare and takes a seat before him. He makes sure to keep his tentacles low but not to hide them, same for his arms.

Hidden limbs can attack him and hurt him. This way Nightmare can keep and easy eye on everything.

Corrupt speaks softly, making sure to keep his voice soft and quiet just in case "I must admit I am not quite sure myself anymore. I am Corrupt. When you ate the apple of the tree I formed. I always believed that you had died and I formed from that moment with the apple's magic and power... I was unaware you were with me the whole time. How are you feeling? What do you remember?" and he waits. He knows this is a lot of information.

Nightmare frowns as he looks down slightly. Thinking. He looks at his hand and frowns as he touches some of his fingers. Corrupt follows the sight and knows why Nightmare must be confused. The villages had smashed his phalanges with a large bat just days before the apple incident. Those breaks should have been there still.

Nightmare forms a fist again as he holds said hand with his other "I... I think i... remember eating it..." he frowns more before flinching. Corrupt frowns and looks over his shoulder. Right.

He sighs "Loves. please back up a tiny bit." the four had started to gravitate closer but they seem to realise the problem. They give some quiet sorries and back up a bit.

Corrupt looks amused at them before motioning towards the other couches and chairs "Just sit down for a moment." He first needs to get Ngihtmare to relax just a tiny bit. Corrupt doubts he can move alright just yet and Corrupt wants him to be at least a bit calmer before he tries to ask if Nightmare wnats to get clean.

His mates luckily all listen and sit down and get comfortable as they start checking each other. Corrupt smiles, that is good. This way he is at least sure that they are all alright and no one is hurt.

Corrupt turns back to Nightmare who is staring at him. But he looks away as soon as Corrupt looks at him. Corrupt chuckles "It is alright... I can only imagine I must look very strange to you."

Ngihtmare shrugs and mutters "Not... that weird..." he grins a tiny bit as he glances up at him "I am a treespirit..."

Corrupt chcukles and nods "true..."

Nightmare glances to the side and Corrupt realises what Nightmare must be glancing it. Corrupt slowly makes one of his tentacles raise a little and makes it wave.

Nightmare blinks and looks at Corrupt "Are those..."

Corrupt nods "They are... made of negative energy." he brings it closer "We got that in common. Both of us have powers connected to the more negative things to feel." he lets the tendril hover near Nightmare.

Nightmare stares at it before very slowly touching the tendril. As soon as he touches it the negativity and magic in his being reacts. Because the area around the tendril starts to shine and show of cyan coloured swirls.

Nightmare stares and starts to smile "wow... I didn't know my stuff could be pretty..." he touches one of the shown swirls wiht his other hands and the area of effect expands a tiny bit.

Corrupt nods as he mutters "Even if everyone looks down on negativity. It has its good adn beautiful sides. Everything has, including the negative emotions."

Nightmar elooks unconvinced and that doesn't surprise Corrupt. Nightmare is used to being harrassed, bullied, hurt and abused over what he was connected to. His powers and role only every brough him pain.

Maybe Corrupt can at least show him the more beautiful side of their emotional powers. Show it is a part of healing and growth. That it has a connection to justice and protecting others.

Nightmare ends up focussing back on the tentacle in front of him and watching their magic react to one another. Familiar and calm. Both magicks seem to know the other and it helps Ngihtmare feel safe.

Some movement by his side and Corrupt watches as Cross is now near him before sitting on the ground with his back against the couch. Ngihtamre shoots him a look for a moment before calming down when the other's attention isn't on him. Nightmare turns back to the tentacle.

Cross looks over nervously before turning to Corrupt "what... what is the plan? are we just... going to..." he shoots Ngihtmare a look "Can we just keep him?"

Nightmare freezes and grabs the tentacle tighter.

Corrupt frowns as he looks at Nightmare. The idea... of leaving him somewhere? No... they can't just leave him somewhere.

Cross rubs his arm as he continues to speak "Like... I am not... sure how good I am at this dad thing?" he cringes "But I can learn! probably." he grins as he looks nervous.

Killer laughs as he lounges on the other couch, obviously watching them "I mean. I think this one is dips for either Horror or Dust. You know. Cyan of Cors and red of either of them makes purple for little nightlight."

Corrupt shoots Killer a glare "I wasn't pregnant."

horror hums and nods "Dust then. I don't have enough magic to get anyone pregnant."

Dust shrugs "Cool. I am upper-dad."

Killer grins "It has been decided!" and he throws his arms out with a laugh.

Corrupt sighs deeply as he looks back at Nightmare however just looks at the other four. Looking a tiny bit more relaxed and with a slightly tilted skull.

Corrupt speaks softly "Are you okay with staying here for a little bit? I swear to you that no one will harm you here, ever." It is why he made this place. it was a place of safety and shelter. For himself and those he holds so dear.

Nightmare looks at him, looks at the others, then looks at where their magicks interact and strengthen each other. Nightmare frowns but nods "Okay..."

Corrupt smiles "Thank you." he looks at his mates "How do you four feel?"

Killer grins "A bit tired but nothing too bad."

Cross nods and sits up straight "We are ready to do whatever!"

Corrupt sees both Horror and Dust give their own okays before nodding "Cross and Killer, can you two go to Littletale and get some supplies? We will need clothes foremost but anything that can fit a ten year old is helpful." furniture will come later once they figure out which room is right for the tiny prince-

Oh... Corrupt is already considering calling him prince compared to his own king title...

Maybe his mates have a point about how this whole situation happened. He does feel very protective over Nightmare... Again things to consider when he has the time.

He focusses on the mission "Dust. If you can go around the castle and secure the place. Make it safer." a glance confirms that Dust shoots their training room a look before nodding. He had figured Dust would understand what he meant without having to point out how many weapons they have, which will just make Ngihtmare nervous.

He looks at Horror "Love?"

Horror grins and nods "I will be in the kitchen. Allergies?"

Corrupt shakes his skull and looks at Nightmare "Not that i can remember... Nightmare? Are there any things you don't like the taste or texture off?"

Nightmare looks confused "texture?"

Corrupt smiles "Well yeah... I know I dislike either quite a few things that feel strange to me to eat. Anything you don't like?"

Nightmare thinks before speaking "I don't like.... mushy stuff? feels weird to chew..."

Corrupt looks at Horror and Horror nods before looking at Nightmare "Anything you like?"

Nightmare blinks and actually focusses on Horror for a moment. His hold on his tentacle tightens but seems to relax when he sees that Horror just waits as he stays in place and doesn't get closer.

Nightmare looks away and shrugs "Don't have stuff that i really like..." he rubs the tentacle. maybe it helps to sooth him?

Horror nods "Fair enough. We will have to get you to taste test a few things to see what you like." and he walks off before he can get a reply.

The others had already quietly left the room which Ngihtmare registers as he looks around soft "They move quiet..."

Corrupt nods "I know. I hardly ever hear them. I notice them by sensing their emotions more than anything."

Nightmare looks up unsure "They... they won't get mad? Others always get mad when i... used that..."

Corrupt smiles and shakes his skull "They won't... Will you let me help you get cleaned up?"

Ngihtmare blinks and looks down only to stare at the mess he is. Clearly not having realised that "Oh... euh..." he looks unsure as he looks hard at Corrupt "You... ARe you the one who spoke to me?"

Corrupt frowns as he tilts his skull "spoke?"

Nightmare nods as he rubs his hand "When... whenever i was sad and scared... I always heard this voice... it was very quiet and begged me to stay near... let them help... Was that you?"

Corrupt frowns as he thinks back. trying to remember the voice that Nightmare speaks off. But he can't remember those moments... What he does remember instead are his dream. showing the other side of the same conversation. Corrupt looks at Nightmare "I must admit I am unsure myself. I do not have memories of my own from before you ate the apple. I do... however... have your memories. For a long time i beleived those to be my own."

Nightmare looks away ashamed and mutters "oh...."

Corrupt shakes his skull "You don't need to be ashamed... you are a child... you shouldn't have had the pressure on you that was placed on you... and those who hurt you... they are the ones who are wrong. You never did anything wrong."

Ngihtmare nods but looks sad "I... I thought you were that voice... you sounded familiar and... I felt like i knew you."

Corrupt frowns and speaks sfotly "There are however dreams i had. Dreams that I wasn't you. But looking on from the outside... unable to assist. But I wanted to help you."

Nightmare thinks it over before looking at Corrupt and nods "okay... I would like being clean..."

Corrupt smiles and carefully picks Nightmare up. Noticing now that any goop touching any bones on Ngihtmare causes the same effect as the touches to the tentacles had caused. He hadn't noticed in his panic before.

Corrupt slowly leaves the living room and goes towards the hall before going up the stairs. As he walks he points at each room and area as he softly explains what is what. Ngihtmare looks around in shock and mutters about it being an actual castle. Corrupt smiles as he feels the excitement slowly start to appear in the younger empath.

They get to Corrupts room and he takes Ngihtmare towards the bathroom. Ngihtmare looks around confused as his hold tightens "what?"

Corrupt speaks softly as he explaisn how the bathroom works before turning on the tab of the bath. Letting Nightmare feel the water before making sure the water is nice and comfortable. He lets Ngihtmare sit by the water and play wiht it as he goes to look through the soaps and brushes. Getting everything needed to help clean up the young skeleton.

It only takes a moment before Corrupt returns to Nightmare's side. Ngihtmare looks nervous at him before looking at the water "will... will the water hurt you?"

corrupt stops and stares at Ngihtmare. He had expected th young skeleton to be worried about being exposed and naked in front of someone he didn't know. instead he is worried about Corrupt.

Corrupt smiles "I will be fine. Water does not bother me." to show he puts his hand in the water and shows how his goop just doesnt'mix with the water, all the rises off him was some old dirt from the battle. Nightmare looks at it curiously and touches it. the goop still lights up when their magic meets.

Ngihtmare frowns "why does it do that?"

Corrupt hums and shrugs "I can only assume it is because our magics have a similar source. it recognises each other as-" family. He manages to stop himself.

Nightmare tilts his skull as he stares at him. a tiny smile appears on his face "I already got a mom though."

Corrupt sighs and looks at the younger monster "please don't start to. I already have four of them doing that joke."

Nightmare chuckles before looking at the water "Bath time?"

Corrupt nods and gently helps Ngihtmare out of his dirty clothes and into the water. Ngihtmare hums happily and relaxes. Corrupt looks him over but doens't see any scars or marks of the past wounds. completely healed.

Corrupt smiles "You really are healed..." It makes it worth it. Makes it worth having to experience the pain of Ngihtmare splitting from his body.

Nightmare looks in awe at his body "You healed me... You kept your promise."

Corrupt frowns as he starts helping the younger monster bath as he still can't quite move right yet "What do you mean?"

Ngihtmare hums as he relaxes into his hold, full trust "The voice... it said that if i just gave in. To accept help. That the pain would stop." he smiles "You stopped the pain."

Corrupt looks at him before smiling "I am happy I was able to help you. I was worried before... That i had hurt you... that eating the apple to make me, destroyed you."

Nightmare keeps looking at him. Some suspicion in his feelings before he relaxes and smiles back. believing him. Why would Nightmare just believe Corrupt on his word-

Oh... of course...

Nightmare and Corrupt are both empaths. They can feel the other and feel that they are both honest. That they don't want to hurt each other.

That is what the trust is build upon. Something that was clear instantly from their first interaction.

After that Corrupt just helps Nightmare get clean as Ngihtmare uses the water to slwoly move his limbs.

Nightmare looks unhappy with the uneasy movement.

Corrupt chcukles "You were asleep for a long time Nightmare. It will take some time before you regain your full movement again."

Nightmare looks at him "Why... why did Drema shoot you?" he looks so confused "Your magic is like mine... why would he attack you?"

Corrupt stops and sighs "Your brother hates me. Because He thought I killed you."

Nightmare frowns as he looks up at him "But... you didn't... it was.. them... the villagers... not you..." he frowns "did you tell Dream that?"

Corrupt sighs "I tried to explain it to him a long time ago... He didn't beleive me."

Nightmare just looks sad as he leans heavily into his hold "He never believed me either."

Corrupt frowns "I am sorry."

Nightmare shrugs as he moves the dirty water around "I am used to it..."

Corrupt rubs his shoulders "People believe what you say here. I promise. They will listen to you."

Nightmare frowns before nodding "okay."

Corrupt nods before smiling "Ready to get dressed?"

Nightmare frowns at the sad pile of clothes "i guess?"

Corrupt shakes his skull and stands up "You are comfortable right? stable? No leanign to the side?"

Ngihtmare looks unsure but nods "I am okay... No one will get in?"

Corrupt nods "no one will bother you." Ngihtmare accepts it and Corrupt quickly goes ot his closet and reaches around. It doesn't take long before finding a soft sweater and some sweats. He returns to the bathroom and helps Ngihtmare dry off before helping him get dressed.

Clean and comfrotable safely in his arms.

Corrupt looks at Nightmare "ready to get some food?"

Nightmare looks at him before nodding "okay."

Corrupt leaves his room and goes towards the kitchen to meet up with one of his mates. Hopefully the others will like and accept Nightmare as easily as Corrupt did.

*--------------------*

Next Part.

[veneerslipstick]

˚୨୧⋆yes, & i love you｡˚ ⋆— pt 2

velvet x FEM!reader

• one shot

• fluff

• light angst

after an overwhelming confession between your “situation-ship” with velvet, both of you take a break from being close. in the midst of your healing, velvet begins to come to a realization that — absolutely nothing is the same without you. frustrated and still deeply in love, in advance of deranged texts from a velvet that hates admitting her feelings, you as always attend a performance of hers that goes terribly wrong.

the girls heart seems to ease by your awaited attention — and yours seems to tense by the threat of trust. will she make up, or live by her same fears?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。. ・.

VELVETS POV.

four months.

it had been four months since the incident between

me and her. was i counting? i didn’t know, i just

knew. the time that passed was slow, very utterly

slow, and each performance that came and went

i mourned knowing that there would be no smiles or

mutual shrieks of excitement backstage. and really, i

genuinely tried not to think of it — to think of her. the

more i pondered about her , the further i felt guilt and

vomit creep up my throat , and it didn’t matter what i

was doing in the moment.

i couldn’t act this this. i shouldn’t blame this on

myself, guilt and uncertainty can’t be the first thing

on my mind or something anyone could read off my

face. pretending to not care is my best bet, only

seeing her as a stylist and maybe a planner would

keep my career safe and drama-free.

my hands wrapped around a cup of orange pekoe

tea, my heart seemed to twist to the pit of my

stomach.

oh, but how the thought of her voice and hands had

me in a trance. oh, how it hurt.

nails gritting on the mug, my fingertips burned and i

jerked them away, spilling a small amount of the hot

fluid on my white vanity. grimacing, i scurried to find

a cloth.

the door to the dressing room then opened, and

there stood y/n, watching as i was searching. i looked

to her for a moment , only a moment, because god

forbid any longer i would start saying shit i’m not

supposed to.

clipboard in hand, she walked over to the vanity and

pulled a tissue from her pocket, beginning to wipe up

the spilt tea that would’ve started to stain if left any

longer. i watched her as she didn’t say a word, just

cleaning with a straight face. oh, don’t stare, velvet.

don’t feel.

she threw the tissue in the garbage can and looked to

me. straightening my posture, i brushed my hair out

of my face. “thank you.” i mumbled, beginning to

take clips and bobby pins out of my hair. the tension

and every physical shift of our bodies was

unbearable, like we were made of rust trying not to

make any sound. it was gross and unnerving and a

lump formed in my throat. sitting at the vanity chair

once more, the routine began.

y/n took my hair apart, running her fingers gently

through the curls and dried gel. she took micellar

water to my face delicately with cotton pads i closed

my eyes as this proceeded, though every cell in my

body told me to open them and begin a

conversation. but that wasn’t right.

everything felt out of place. shit. why? why couldn’t

things be normal? why was this a big deal?

not even realizing my discomfort , i let out a

strangled sound in my throat which caused her to

stop and look at me in the mirror. “you alright?”

am i alright no i’m not alright god i just want to apologize and hold your hand and be okay and be with you and be girls god god help me i’m sorry don’t hate me do i talk too much oh oh could you sm —

“yes.” i blurted and stood up quickly , grabbing

everything and attempting to keep my composure. i

didn’t look at her twice before darting straight out of

the room and stumbling down the stairs. the tears

were hot and flowing , cursing to myself silently for

being so pathetic.

i was my own worst enemy.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・

YOUR (2ND) POV.

you were aggravated by velvets behaviour. was she

ignoring you or trying to get your attention? being

smart or clueless? definitely not clueless. she was

smarter than that. you hated how you couldn’t tell

with her sometimes. but that’s exactly what drew you

to her — you could never guess. but of course you

didn’t let yourself get too wound up, it had been

almost 5 months since then, and you were so close

to being completely over it. over her.

or, well, that’s what you were trying to get yourself to

believe.

you arrived home around midnight after the

performance, in every way exhausted. once through

your door and in the kitchen, you went to pour

yourself a glass of red wine. you didn’t drink, at all

really, the bottle had been a gift , but right now you

needed something. after a long swig, you stared out

the living room window for a moment. then your

phone buzzed. multiple times.

picking it up, the bright light making you squint in

the darkness of your kitchen, you seen velvets name.

your heart skipped a beat as desperate messages

popped up;

“i miss yiu y/n.”

“everythimg hurrs without you”

“i can’t llook at f/c wiyhout feeling sick”

“i don’t know i hate feekings”

“thid sucks”

“will you tajk to me i’m sorry”

“i wqs wtong please don’t hate me”

her typos seemed to pull at your heart strings, you

opened the messages to look at them, but put your

phone down. you poured another glass. honestly,

what did she want you to say? oh, it’s no problem vel,

it’s not like you tore my veins out and tied them in a

bow then proceeded to wish i was someone different

then steal my oxygen with a kiss. nope. not at all.

a few minutes passed, and your phone began to ring.

now slightly panicked, you saw velvets name and

contact photo pop up. it was a picture paparazzi had

taken of you two that floated around on the internet,

which was you two smiling and laughing at a public

park that — you remembered, — you had dragged

her to so she could connect with something other

than a camera and makeup. she hated the photo

because she was in her “disguise clothing”, but she

looked as pure as ever.

you shook the memory from your thoughts and

picked up the phone after letting it ring a little and

brought the phone to your ear. you said nothing, only

waiting for her.

“don’t. don’t do that.” you heard a broken voice at the

other end of the call. you paused before answering.

she was definitely crying.

“do what?” you asked monotonously.

“not… answering me. as my — stylist, you should

almost always answer wh —“

“cut the shit velvet.” you snapped but didn’t raise

your voice. you bit your lip and you heard her

whimper quietly.

“i’m really trying.” she whispers that seemed to dart

straight to your heart. “y-you know that i am. this

shit is just — ugh,” she was talking about her

feelings. you felt that same pain in your heart from all

those months ago.

“velvet,” you started, leaning against your fridge and

deeply breathing. “i don’t want to hear this over a

phone. what you did hurt, i don’t know what i can

and can’t believe.” you choked slightly at the end of

your sentence. she was silent, but you heard her

sniffle. your voice lowering right above a whisper,

“if you really want this velvet; say it to my face. look

me in my eye and tell me what you want.” you

asserted.

you heard nothing but distant shaky breathing for a

moment. “goodnight, y/n. we’ll talk tomorrow.” the

like clicked.

you stood there a little while, gazing in the distance.

maybe that was the closure you needed.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・

the next day…

and so the routine began again. getting ready in the

morning, drive to work, getting velvet and veneer

ready for todays performance… nothing new. and

shockingly, seeing velvet didn’t hurt as much as you

thought it would. you felt good about that. now

putting their makeup away , veneer and velvet were

talking.

“vel, are you sure you’ll be okay? you look exhausted.

maybe you should sit just this one out…” veneer said

cautiously.

“no, ven, im fine.” she claimed , lazily putting her

boots on.

“okay, but, you did tell me one time to always prevent

you from performing if you seemed unwell even if

you refused , so —“

“veneer can you just shut the fuck up? i - just - god

please. please.“ she growled , her voice softening

near the end of her sentence. both you and veneer

jumped slightly, and he looked shocked and

slightly hurt. he said nothing, and velvet got up and

left the room. you looked to him who continued to

linger his gaze out the door. he looked at you.

“can you figure something out with her? it sort of

feels like, i lost her.” he said in a concerned tone. you

said nothing, only slightly nodding to try and ease

his mind. sighing, he walked out the door as well. you

followed after a moment of pondering and headed

towards the entrance of the pit.

awaiting for the siblings near the left center crowd,

you started to wonder if velvet would actually be

okay during the performance. you obviously knew

why she was off, but there’s no way she would let

that affect her image. you hoped.

then it was showtime, and you watched as they

presented flawlessly as always. but there was

still something wrong with her. she wasn’t as

smiley and proud like she usually was in front of

her fans, she was smiling, but she almost looked sick.

you bit your lip and didn’t take your eyes off of that

stage. not even half way through the song, that

terrible fear commenced.

“shit.” you said out loud.

velvet seemed to lose balance as she followed the

choreography and her words mashed up. veneer

glanced at her with an obvious worried expression as

he tried to continue , but she was so off that it was

nearly impossible. she seemed to choke on her words

and she just completely stopped dancing, making

eye contact with you. the audience began to turn to

whispered and audible gasps. you could tell she

felt the eyes on her at how she looked around like

she commuted a crime, and before you knew it she

ran backstage. some people began yelling or booing,

veneer trying to speak through his mic to reassure

them that they just needed to take five.

you bolted to that backstage.

security guards and producers were gathered around

a certain spot, where you could make out velvet on

the ground , crying and yelling about something.

pushing through them, she spotted you through her

tears and swatted away people’s hands that tried to

help her.

“no, go, go ! “ she stood up taking in sharp, deep

breaths. looking to you, she tried to yell at the

security guards that wouldn’t lay off. “no! i want —

y/n, y/n take me .. home, i can’t —“

you were nearly instantly by her side, wrapping an

arm around her and taking her through the back exit

— at the same time yelling at producers to call off the

show. once you two were out, she had calmed down

a little as you let her lean against the wall. no words

were spoken as you removed your jacket and

wrapped it around her shoulders , and eventually led

her to your car. her in your passenger seat and you in

the drivers, you looked to her.

“was that about last night?” you asked, your voice

breaking the threatening silence. she looked down at

her lap. “that was about … everything.” she spoke

softly , almost too soft for you to hear. looking

forward, you started the car and left the premises.

the clock read 9:53 PM as you hit the highway.

“am i taking your way or the rest of the highway to

your house?” you asked. she looked to you.

“your place.” she answered. heart fluttering, you

glanced at her. “mine?”

“yeah. we should.. talk.”

and when you did arrive to your house, you both got

out of the car and headed inside, holding open the

door for her in silence. she kept your jacket on, and

you made your way to the kitchen, preparing her tea

that you bought specifically for her. out of nowhere,

you felt something on your shoulder blade and a

hand wrapped around your arm. velvet stood there

with you, more silence, as you made her tea.

quiet was important with her, you found. she was

very voluble and it was hard to have a gentle moment

with her, but recently you noticed she allowed

things to be silent. you didn’t complain.

you turned around to face her and she stepped back

from you, taking the tea you offered, but she just

put it on the counter. you didn’t care, all you cared

about was looking into her eyes. you began;

“what did you want to talk about?”

velvet gulped and shook her head. “y/n. honestly,

everything is so.. terrible. terrible without you. and

god i hate to admit that i’m struggling to live

without someone but it’s so true and — this is so

unfamiliar. it’s almost angering but it’s also sweet

but sickening and … and —“ she looked up at you

with wet eyes, her hands extended towards you.

“that kiss.. that kiss was real. and i know i said that

stupid idiotic comment that was very untrue because

i was scared and i was scared of our l-love but now

it’s…” she trailed off, looking to the side. “oh it’s just

so.. you’re so..” she looked back at you, hands

reverting back to near her chest. “it’s just..can

we..?” her head slowly nodding, you didn’t waste

another second to back her up against your counter

and kiss her firmly.

you took her hands that bundled near her heart and

brought them to your face, letting her ease her

palms on your red cheeks. your own hands

held her waist gently as your lips basically

locked on one another, a smooth rhythm comme-

ncing between you two. you felt her tears fall

and hit your cheeks again, and the connection

was reborn. this is what you needed — what she

needed. her hands traveled up to your hair as she

tangled them in it, yours pulling her closer to you.

smiling against her lips, she let out a quiet sob

inside her throat.

pulling away, you planted a few more kisses to her

jaw and neck, running your hands up her back.

her breathing steadied after a minute and you

both looked at each other.

“i don’t want to leave,” she whispered, her glossy

she’s peering up at you.

“don’t.” you replied, wiping her tears with your

thumb. “stay the night, let us love eachother. veneer

will understand.”

she nodded and smiled a smile you haven’t seen in

awhile; which automatically triggered another gentle

kiss. a brief moment passed and you broke it.

“we’re girls, and that’s okay.” you reminded her.

strands of her beautiful green locks stuck to her

wet face. velvet nodded and took your hands,

cupping them on her face.

“the hell was i thinking, i don’t want a man. who

wants a man?” she joked, having you both laugh.

“hm, your brother.” you responded and she snickered

loudly, dropping her head.

“god i love you, y/n.” she said , looking back up. your

stomach churned.

“and i love you, velvet.”

not another word was spoken as you both rested in

your bed, holding each other and sharing long,

intimate kisses as if trying to makeup for the time

you lost.

it was definitely worth the wait.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

a/n: AHH CHRISTMAS !!! merry chrysler and happy holidays to my beloved fellow mutuals 💋 i had fun writing this whilst listening to waiting room on repeat ..!!! anyway MWAH ily guys eat up

[dickmedowndc]

Kiss Tax - Bart Allen x Reader

Word Count: 1,856

Summary: Bart had always been affectionate in your relationship. Quick to give or ask for anything from a hug to a kiss – the latter of which he had made a habit of giving before each mission he went on. At least when it wasn’t something last minute or it was manageable. But you had finally decided to return the affections more yourself, beginning to ask for a “kiss tax” on small things such as passing through the door or handing over a drink. A practice that Bart seemed more than happy to adopt and turn around on you just as quickly. 

Notes: Partially inspired by something from Feels Like Fighting Gravity, one of my upcoming OC/Canon fics, where Wisteria tends to demand a “kiss tax” for things – I thought it was cute. Also, inspired by a relationship headcanon that Bart tries to kiss his partner before each mission, just in case.

…★…

It was quiet. 

Far too quiet. 

You had been reading in absolute silence by the window for some time now, a storm pounding on the windowpane in a consistent lull, only interrupted by the bright white flash of lightning and the cracks of ground shaking thunder that sent a vibration through your home and body. 

The quietness that had you narrowing your eyes and sliding a bookmark between pages was not the silence of nature – not with its ongoing war cry – but rather the silence of your home. It was unnerving, unnatural, after becoming so used to the sounds of a speedster making himself comfortable within the walls. Setting the book aside you reached over, grabbing your phone and flicking the screen on to see the time: 4:57 PM. Bart had been due back from his 3-day mission more than 3 hours ago. Granted, it wasn’t uncommon for a speedster to be late back from anything, but for such a stretch of time with no word from him, it was becoming concerning. 

But you had faith in your partner and knew when he was free from his duties or the debriefing – or wherever he was – that he would be back. That was not to say, however, that it would stop you from curling up on your bed and waiting a bit longer. At least you told yourself that had been the plan, but the moment that your head hit the pillows you found your eyes were growing heavy without your consent and you fell asleep. 

When you woke later it was with a start and a pressure pressed against your entire body, one that was vibrating as it laughed. Just as quickly your eyes flew open and landed on your boyfriend, all too amused with himself and face shoved into the crook of your neck as he continued to shake in his absolute mirth. 

Finally, he stopped, just long enough so he could peak up at you and the faint mumbling against your skin could be deciphered. “Did you miss me?” 

“I always miss you,” you assure, bringing a hand up to run it through his fluffy hair. “But I’m also starting to miss sleep.” 

He said nothing, only pressing a series of too-quick kisses against whatever exposed skin he could reach. The actions leaving you a squirming mess under him as you tried desperately to avoid his attacks, finding yourself short of breath soon enough. 

“Bart please, please stop,” you gasped out, one hand trying to pull his head back by his hair, knowing you weren’t hurting him too much, and the other trying to shove him back by one of his shoulders. It did little to dissuade him, his onslaught continued until there were tears in the corners of your eyes and you could no longer beg for him to show mercy. It shouldn’t have tickled you too much, and perhaps you should have seen it coming, but it was the very speed that he left those feather light touches, and the hands on your side keeping you from hiding, that made it all the harder to calm down. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Bart stilled. His hands were still planted firmly on your sides, but he allowed his body to collapse onto yours. He seemed as content as could be to just rest his head on your chest, looking up at you with faux innocence as though he had not been lovingly tormenting you only moments ago. He was good at that, and he knew it. “Too cute to be mad at” you had said one time, and he had run with it for situations such as this. 

Finally free to take in as much air as our lungs burned for you could finally calm down. With one hand limp at your side, the other that remained webbed through strands of his hair had just enough feeling for you to pull him forward. “Come here,” you murmured, pressing a quick kiss to his lips when he finally complied. When you opened your eyes and pulled away, the only thing that you could see was the elated grin of your partner. 

“What was that for?” 

“A kiss tax, you have to pay a kiss tax now.” 

Bart cocked his brow at you. “What am I paying for?” 

“For tickling me, you menace. And maybe I’ll make you pay another one for being cute.” 

“What if I don’t want to pay the tax?” 

“Sorry,” you huffed, a gentle hand to his cheek, “no tax fraud allowed.” 

Bart only laughed, following your gentle pull before kissing you once again. “For being attractive?” 

You rolled your eyes at his words, moving to correct him swiftly. “For being criminally cute.” 

“I think I can live with the kiss tax, even if it’s just to get you to start kisses more.” 

You waved him aside, knowing it wasn’t a rude jab. Bart had known about your shy nature and your hesitance at giving physical affection on that level. It was well discussed. But it did not stop him from poking fun at it on the rare occasion. 

But what you had not known that day, after fully deciding to lean into the kiss tax idea - because your boyfriend deserved it, and always made time to give you what physical affection he could, including a goodbye kiss before every mission – was just how happy it would make Bart. And just how eager he would be to pay said tax for each little thing. 

But three weeks later it was resoundingly clear to you. 

Bart had always been the more affectionate of the two of you – not that it wasn’t mutual. But he had never shied away from asking or surprising you with hugs or a quick kiss, he gave compliments like he needed to do so to breathe. It was a pre-fight good luck charm for him to find you wherever you were and kiss you before he had to go unless he did not have the time. Hand holding, domestic mornings just cuddling in bed, hyping you up to those around you. It was just the way he was. 

And in private you returned his affections. Your own flustered nature leaving you stuttered over it in the company of others. You enjoyed it nonetheless. 

But now Bart had gotten a taste of you regularly starting these moments, and he was enjoying it. 

“Can you hand me that water?” he called, puppy dog eyes on full display as he stared longingly at the bottle from over the bed of the couch. 

You could only shake your head at his antics before bringing it to him, still partially distracted by something you had been reading on your phone; Anita had been recorded during one of her saves recently and you were checking the highlights, mentally reminding yourself to congratulate her later. Your train of thought was interrupted when Bart cleared his throat. Puzzled, you stopped, looking at him in a silent question of what was wrong. 

“I have to pay the tax, don’t I?” 

You could feel the way your lips twitched up at the corner. You couldn’t miss the chance to mess with him. “I don’t know if I'll be collecting any tax on water.” 

He looked like a kicked puppy almost immediately. He would put Dox to shame with the sad eyes he was pulling. 

“But you took tax the other day.” 

You could only roll your eyes before motioning him forward, the air knocked from your lungs when he practically threw himself over your lap. So much for reading the rest of the article, you mused, tossing your phone aside. You took a moment and just squished his face between your hands, earning a grumble as he turned away to break your hold. “Alright,” you said, relenting at last, “come here you big baby.” 

Bart was more than happy to oblige, stealing a kiss faster than you could even register the act. 

But when he pulled back, he had that look on his face you sometimes found you would regret later, like he knew something, or was planning something. You ignored it, knowing full and well that if he wanted to keep his secrets for the time he would, especially if he thought it would make the payout all the better. 

The best you could do was enjoy the tranquility of the moment and resign yourself to whatever fate awaited you. 

That fate, as you found out only hours later, was Bart now flipping the script on you. 

Where it had previously been you requesting a kiss tax before letting him into your bedroom, Bart now stood in front of it, puffed out and taking up as much space as he could. “You need to pay the tax, sorry babe.” 

You snorted and crossed your arms. “I need to pay the tax in my own place?” 

“Don’t you do that already?” 

Your arms drop to your sides as you sigh. “Alright, come here, you.” You pull him forward and give him a kiss, before ducking under him and making for the kitchen before he can change just how much tax you owe. Not that trying to outrun him has ever worked in your favor before anyways, but it always seems to make the both of you laugh, and that’s enough. 

But his demands for kisses don’t stop there, and you find that Bart seems to have found a new past time – finding what things he can still do for you and still be able to collect tax. It isn’t every time, thankfully, so it keeps you on your toes enough. Nor does it seem to diminish just how excited that he gets each time you still make him pay with a quick kiss as well. 

That’s good, because the way he lights up is something that you’re hoping you get to see for a long time to come still. 

An admission you let slip after stealing another kiss when he tries to pull you in to cuddle. 

Bart seems to go completely soft at that, eyes half lidded, and arms thrown around your waist so he can pull away long enough to just watch you for the moment. “Anybody saying you can’t?” 

“No, but I wanted you to know. I don’t always tell you as much as I maybe should.” 

Bart breaks out in a smile there – he could put the sun to shame – but it’s just as soft as it is bright. “You show me all the time.” 

You can only raise a brow at that. “Really?” 

“You do,” he insists, pulling you closer. “It didn’t take me that long to figure out how you show it.” 

It's like a weight you didn’t know had been there is lifted when he says that. The kiss tax had been in part to show him that you cared just as much, and knowing that he already knew? It put you at ease. Enough so that you quickly found yourself curling into his chest to be lulled asleep by his heartbeat, aware he wasn’t far behind you. 

[xbadmuse]

Jealousy

This is Part I of the Jealous Simon Riley Story i wanted to post.

this is a nsfw story, like everything else on my blog.

this is about Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

i did not proof read, please excuse any mistakes.

You were sipping on your drink as the cool breeze of the cold winter weather hit your face whenever the door to the pub opened. You could see from the window how the snow was slowly falling in thin watery flakes but as the time passes, the snowflakes turned into bigger flakes. Your drink was somewhat empty already as you looked back around, watching the team getting tipsier as time passes, if not completely drunk already. Your legs were cold, cursing yourself for only wearing thin thighs to your skirt and knee high boots.

It was now past midnight, the pub getting louder and louder and fuller as the door was being opened every few seconds. You just wanted to go home at this point. You really loved spending time with the team but right now.. you wish you could stuff your cold legs into a heater and wait for them to warm up again.

You looked over to Simon, who was sitting right next to you. If a person didn't know Simon personally, they would think that he was just a relaxed person, sitting in the booth, staying quite and absorbing the people around him as well as the location with his stoic attitude but right now, he was definitely very far from being relaxed.

The anger bubbling inside his body was radiating a very unnerving aura, cutting a knife through your calm vibe until it is drained out of blood. This is also one of the reasons you just want to leave this place, immediately.

You kept an eye on him, every once in a while looking up while pretending to look somewhere else. He was sitting very close to you, making sure that his frame covered half of you in the booth. Simon was gripping his drink, side eying you quickly and taking a sip, placing the glass back down on the table a little more aggressive then expected. He was fuming, deeply but Simon knew better and how to hide the fact that he could set this pub on fire, burning it out of aggressiveness just about now.

***

30 Minutes before.

"no, thank you", you clutched your bag to your chest, taking in the man that was standing tall right in front of you. he was wearing a smug grin, his white teeth brighter than the lights in the pub hallway and his weird looking beard which he was probably forcefully trying to grow but only reached from the left side until the right side of his upper lip as well as his chin, taking in your form with his eyes.

"look, I am really not trying to be a creep but I feel like we could fit. I think you are gorgeous and I am not bad myself, so?", his hand was grazing your arm and you instantly took a few steps back, looking at him confused.

"I have a boyfriend, please just leave", the man started to laugh, taking a few closer steps towards you and placing a hand on your shoulder. His hand then travelled down your arm again as he stared into your eyes intensly.

"stop lying and give me a chance love", he leaned in, his lips almost on your ears and with that you grabbed his arm and pushed him off of you with full force. he tumbled a few steps back as you stepped further into his direction, pushing him once again with all your strength as he stumbled and hitting his back against the wall behind him.

"you bitch", he hissed, instantly standing straight again. He stared at you and was about to walk towards you as you took just one step towards him. He mustered you, confusingly taking a step back and then walking away out of embarrassment.

The moment he turned around his body full on crashed into Simon, turning the corner and taking his stance in the middle of the hallway. Simon was wearing his balaclava as always and the way he stared down at the man in front of him would have even you running away in fear.

"s'cuse me", the man said as he hushed away from Simon instantly and disappeared into the crowded Pub. You were eying this small interaction, clutching you handbag to your body again and standing just inches away from the bathroom door. You hoped that Simon has not seen one glimpse of what happened just moments ago because if he did, that man would be fighting for his life right now and he would lose bitterly. That is why you kept your mouth shut.

Simon walked towards you, stomping his boots on the tiles on the ground as you were about to turn around and walk into the bathroom.

„who was that?”, he said after he instantly grabbed your wrist with his hand and held you before you could make another move and enter the bathroom. You turned around and faced him with a confused look, his eyes bored into yours as you rolled your eyes.

“who?..”, you tried to free yourself from his grip but he tightened it again. He was controlling himself to not get overwhelmed with the anger and frustration that was building inside him as he stared down at you. He knew something happened and he wanted to hear it..from you. You just stared up at him, heart beating faster.

“Simon, I don’t know..I just wanted to go pee and he followed me and told me my outfit looks good”, you still stared into his eyes. His grip loosened on your wrist and you knew he cocked one eyebrow even under his mask, an asking look on his face. He did not speak or was about to and you knew that he was getting frustrated by the minute.

“I told him to leave me alone and then he left”, you looked up at him, your eyes pleading him to let go of your wrist and to not ask any more questions and with that, Simon let go off your wrist.

“Go to toilet, I’ll wait here”, he said. From the way he said this you already knew that Simon was definitely not in the mood to have any more conversation with you. 'Well, that was the end of a fun night', you thought to yourself.

“Simon, you don’t nee-“, pleading eyes as you looked up. Simon was not looking at you anymore, staring up into the hallway.

“I said go, I will wait here”, his eyes instantly shot your way and with that you clutched your bag again and took a few steps away from him to leave into the ladies bathroom.

***

"Next round friends?", Gaz exclaimed loudly for you all to hear. The Pub was getting fuller and fuller the later it got. It was loud, almost unbearable. You looked over at Simon who was finishing up his drink.

He placed the glass back down on the table as the rest nodded and agreed. Even though you were now keen to stay a little longer to not be with Simon alone and enjoy the night you stopped thinking that way the moment Simon placed his hand on your thigh since you were about to ask for another drink.

"We are leaving", he spoke up in his monotone voice. The table exclaimed disappointed with his statement and Soap eyed him from the side. "Why? We just started", he said loudly over the table as he looked over to you as well.

Simon stood up and grabbed your jacket from the seat next to you as he looked down at you. His eyes were demanding rather then asking and normally this is not something that you would tolerate but giving the circumstances you did not want to upset Simon further. You stood up from your seat and smiled at Soap.

"I need to get up early tomorrow to pick up my mother from the airport." you lied, smiling convincingly as Simon helped you into your jacket. Soap nodded understandingly and so was everyone else as you all bid your goodbyes.

Simon opened the door to the pub for you as you waved to the table behind you. The cold night air hit your hot face and you sipped your jacket up. Simon walked past you, just two steps ahead of you as he stomped through the snow to his car which was parked just a two minute walk from the pub. He opened the door for you as you got inside, he did not say a single word to you as he started his car and drove off to your apartment.

You and Simon were not sharing an apartment but whenever Simon was back in the city he stayed in yours. His apartment was a fifteen minute drive from yours but he still liked spending as much time as possible with you or near you.

But right now you were not really sure if that is the case..

"Whats wrong?", you asked and turning on the seat heater for both you and Simon. He glanced at your hand and immediately turned the heater off again, but only for himself and kept yours on. Simon looked straight forward, not giving you one second of attention.

"Hello? I am talking to you", you turned to him, annoyed that he is not talking to you and ignoring you. He turns to you and then back to the road. It was very dark outside but you still knew your whereabouts. It was only a few more minutes until both of you were at your apartment.

"Who was that guy?", he said after a few silent minutes. You still could not believe he was still thinking about that and you rolled your eyes at that. Looking over to him, he was still staring ahead as he drove into a parking spot right before your apartment.

"Are you being serious right now?", you exclaimed as Simon parked the car and turned the engine off. His eyes shot back to yours, looking at your face and squinting his eyes a bit. He raised his eyebrows and watched you. You opened the door to the car and stepped out, walking over to your apartment.

He did the same, slamming his car door and walking behind you. You opened the front door, walked to the elevator as it immediately opened for both of you to walk inside.

"Are you seriously mad at me because of that guy?", the elevator door shut and you turned to him. He was leaning against the elevator wall as he looked down at you.

"Tell me who that man was and we can stop this discussion", he said calmly as the elevator door opened. You walked out and to your apartment, opening the door and the second you walked inside you slipped your shoes off with a loud huff.

"I don't know Simon.. I have already told you so", you could not tell him. You knew this will end in a blood bath and that is something you dearly try to avoid, even though that man deserved it a little.

"Are we lying to each other now?", you turned around and saw him standing at the door, his jacket was still on as he mustered you. Your eyebrows furrowed feeling ashamed of lying to him.

"Simon pleas-", Simon stepped closer to you, his hand grabbing your cheeks but not too harshly as he made you look up at him.

"Who. was. this. man. (Y/N)?", your heart was beating wildly as he stared down at you. You could see him being calm and breathing steadily as if you had a normal conversation with him while you were about to melt like pudding. You stayed quite.

"Are you going to tell me who this man was? I will kill him regardless. Just tell me who he was and why he was touching you and we can end this discussion (Y/N)", he stared into your eyes, glancing from eye to the other as he waited for your responds. But you just shook your head.

He grinned. "Why did he touch you?", he asked sternly again.

"He didn't", a light sigh escaped your mouth the moment Simons hand was placed on your hips.

"Stop lying, I saw it", he squeezed your hip and pushed you towards him closer.

'Shit', you thought. He titled his head to the side and stared down at you. A few seconds past and he dig his fingers further into your hips as they traveled up your body, slowly gliding his fingers to your back. You sighed and closed your eyes.

“Come on baby, tell me what he did”, his hand was sliding from your hip further to the hem of your leggings. His fingers solely gliding alongside your thigh as a sigh escaped you.

“He was trying to flirt with me and tried to get closer but I told him to get away from me and then he came back. He started touching my shoulder and coming closer until I pushed him away and kicked him.” You told him, staring up into his eyes. His grip on your hip loosened as his eyes never left yours.

“So he touched you?”, he mustered annoyed, still looking at your face as his hand left your face. His fingers came back up to your hips as you stared up at him, just nodding.

You could feel the range that was building inside him, the fire in his eyes almost burning you to the ground with his eye contact. You would be lying if you said you didn’t like the attitude he was giving you, the fact that he was dangerously fuming because a stranger touched you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”, he raised his eyebrow and questioning you. Simon was still standing tall in front of you as he stared down. He never stopped the eye contact and continuing staring. Looking down at him you placed your hand on his chest, your thumb softly rubbed the thin fabric of his sweater.

“Look at me, I asked you a question (Y/N)”, his finger was under you chin lifting it up so you face him again. His eyes boring into yours.

“I didn’t want you to get mad.. i knew what you would have done”, you said calmly and blinked up at him. He hesitated but never stopped the eye contact. He was still fuming, you knew by the way his pupils were blown and his breathing started to get heavier.

“I’m still going to rip out his organs one by one”, a light shiver run down your spine by his words. His dangerous statement made you stop in your tracks and just watching his eyes.

“Why don’t you forget him and start taking care of me Simon?”, you were desperately trying to distract him. Your hand slowly gliding down his chest to his belt. You felt yourself feeling warmer the second his eyes fell to your lips. This handsome man in front of you would kill every human being for you.

He would do whatever you please and the thought of this alone made you feel dizzy. Simons pupils grew bigger and you could see a very small glint of a smile.

“Fucking hell.. do I turn you on baby?”

Part II