#metal crown tooth | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mitsies · 7 months

Text

SWEET NOTHINGS - gojo satoru . . this love, he thinks, might just be limitless.

some days are harder than others. today is particularly hard.

it's a cold tuesday night. the sky outside is bluer than blue, like the ocean on a television screen. it's easy for gojo satoru to lose himself on occasions like this.

it's not quiet, but sound is dulled. he hears the traffic outside his all-too-big apartment's window, and he hears the cat next door on the balcony meowing to be let in. but it's all so muffled, like there's water in his ears. the blue skies are suffocating, muting everything that falls under them. the world is underwater. his head feels all wrong.

there's nothing to be done now. he's finished at work, and everything else is covered, too. there is nothing left to distract him from his thoughts tonight. tonight, there are a million things happening in his head, drowning everything else out. tonight, while he is safe at home, he has never felt more at risk. tonight, he is truly, horribly alone.

satoru doesn't remember stepping into the shower. he doesn't remember polishing off the bottle of alcohol that's sitting on the bathroom counter, and thank god he doesn't remember its bitter taste. he doesn't remember the showerhead turning on, either. but at some point, his eyes refocus, and he's sitting on the cold, wet tile of his guest bathroom's shower. it's undecorated. there are no traces of life. not a shampoo bottle or stray hair, or a shaving razor or soap stains. the shower water is freezing. it stings and nips at his skin, a sharp-toothed animal, biting and chilling. if he could focus enough, satoru is sure he'd feel the ice building on his bones, as the water pelts his bareness like a knife into skin.

there are certain things that haunt him. that will always haunt him, it seems. that will be at the back of his mind until he is alone, like they are waiting to catch him. satoru is a man made of sin. he's the epitome of a system made to kill the only people who could even begin to try and understand him. he is the crown jewel of an empire built on blood. and he has seen dozens of people he's loved slip out of his grasp, just like that. oh, of course it's the nights, the nights just like these, where they come back to whisper in his ear. to tell him it's his fault— he already knows. this is redundant. he knows it's all his fault. he can smell the blood on his hands; coppery, metallic, and staining his skin. of course he knows.

satoru, for all his hypervigilance, doesn't notice the footsteps approaching, gently sounding on the bathroom tile. no, he doesn't know you're there until you call his name.

he'd know your voice anywhere. it's a part of him. your voice, saying his name. he likes it when you say it. it makes him feel better, somehow. he thinks you know this too, which is why you say it again. it's less of a question and more of a quiet exclamation. he wonders how this looks to you. a grown man, sitting on the shower floor, trapped in his own head. probably as pathetic as he feels. he should be better. he's 22, and acting like a teenager. he needs to be better. so he plasters on a typical, brazen smile and tips his head to see you. you're difficult to make out through the running water, which runs down the glass. he hopes you don't hear the rasp in his voice when he greets you, "hey."

it's out of character. you know him well enough to know that. maybe satoru would be more embarrassed, and maybe he'd try harder to act like nothing was wrong. but again— you know him. better than anyone else, anymore. you know him and you love him regardless. this much he knows is true, although he questions how much he deserves it. you've seen him through it all before. his good days, his bad ones, too.

his mind is still fuzzy, but you're opening the shower door and turning the water off. you comment about how cold it is, before kneeling down in front of him. your shoes are still on, so he tells you: "your shoes are on."

you give him a look. he knows that look. it's the 'don't question me right now' look. you're so pretty, satoru thinks. you wrinkle your nose when he exhales— he wonders if you smell the drink on his breath. "i was worried."

your hands are warm, so warm, against his cold, damp skin. a gentle touch travels from his shoulder down his arm. you treat him like he's made of glass. it's nice, for a change. he leans into your touch. you frown. "are you drunk?"

"uh.. a few sips."

he likes that you smile. it's a sad smile, but it's still a smile. "such a lightweight, satoru."

there you go, saying his name again. he hopes you touch his arm some more; your hands are so warm. and his wishes are granted, when your gentle touch moves to lift him up off the floor of the shower. he lets himself lean on you, and his face falls to your hair. it still smells the same as it did back in school. kind of floral. he likes your shampoo. maybe he'd steal it later.

you guide him out the shower and he realises just how cold he was. so it's a good thing that you bring him to his bedroom. the pillows smell like your hair. the sheets are soft and warm.

it's by memory, how you navigate his bedroom with ease. you know it like it's your own home. and he supposes that much might be true— you sleep here more than you do your own place. satoru had known you for years now. and he'd loved you years, too. but a couple of years after school, you'd been stationed off in another country to help a struggling community. you were time zones away for far too long. only recently had you returned— half a year ago, now. he hadn't moved house since you left so you'd always have somewhere familiar. he didn't touch the things you'd left, either, anticipating the day you'd come back.

satoru wonders if this is what you'd expected going into a relationship with him. he seems confident, he seems vibrant. you fell in love with his good days. you fell in love with that 99%, who he was 364 days out of the year. did you see the 1%, the 1 day, the bad day, coming? regardless of if you did, you stayed. he feels fuzzy.

you're back by his side now. a towel in hand, you dry his hair with nimble, careful fingers. you treat him like something delicate. like he's important. like he's broken, and like he's allowed to be. you press a kiss to his scalp and say something he doesn't really hear.

"you're so pretty," he mumbles as you pull away. you give him a little smile, and suddenly, satoru is jealous of your bedsheets, and how they can cradle you whilst you sleep. he’s jealous of your nails that get to cling to your fingers. he’s jealous of the scar on your left shoulder, because he wasn’t the one who gave it to you. he is so in love with you it aches. he is so empty, and so full of this love. the paradox makes him sick.

so when your hand trails across his jaw and pulls away, he holds it in place, so you're cradling his face. the pressure of your hand feels nice— he is so drawn to your touch.

"so pretty," he mumbles again, and this time you laugh. with your free hand, you card through his hair, water droplets making your fingers come away wet. "thank you, satoru. thank you."

deftly, you pry his hand off yours so you're free, much to his grumbled protests. you bite your lip to hide the size of the grin that cuts across your cheeks. your lover has always been a funny drunk, when he's not a sad one. usually, the two go hand-in-hand. it makes you sad, seeing him like this. you want nothing but happiness for him forever. you suppose it comes with the territory. you have bad days too. but you're allowed to feel. satoru is the strongest. he's meant to be good always, to protect, to serve, to be everything but not okay forever and ever. so you've come to think of yourself as lucky, to be able to have and hold him through both the good, and the bad.

among the practices you'd picked up in your time abroad, you've learned how to put your love in your touch. grabbing a small jar from the bedside table, a palmful of oil finds itself in your palm. when you'd first shown this to satoru, he'd been delighted— he'd said something along the lines of you being his personal spa treatment, with a gauchely suggestive look. you'd rolled your eyes then. but now, you take your place sitting behind him by the pillows, and he clambers in front of you by instinct. he doesn't move in a straight line and you try not to laugh. his head and shoulders fall into your lap and his eyes flutter up to gaze at you. they're half-lidded, and exhausted. there's a weight behind them that is not visible most days.

hands beginning in his hair, you watch those eyes flutter shut. they squeeze closed for a moment before he lets himself relax into your touch. deftly, with ease, you work through his hair. it's made easy by how much he maintains it— satoru is relentless about his beauty regiments— so it doesn't take long before you shift to his shoulders and upper arms.

his skin is still cold, but you feel it grow warmer beneath your touch. he's tense and rigid, and you take immense pleasure in the way his body loosens like a wire uncoiling. eyes following your hands, you observe him. the freckles on his back and upper arms are like splatters of paint in a canvas. intentionally unintentional, like the speckled on a fawn’s flank. a scar decorates his shoulder blade, from a time before infinity. he is so beautiful, even when he isn't trying. you're sick and full of love.

at some point, his breathing grows even. he's asleep in your lap. you keep rotating between carding through his hair and running your palms across his upper body with the tenderness only a lover could hold. satoru looks peaceful when he sleeps. you wonder what he might be dreaming of. bad dreams, perhaps? you don't think so. not tonight. his brow remains still, and his eyes are shut lightly, not pulled together. you lean down and plant a kiss to his temple.

gojo satoru was only human. and just like any other human, he had his ups and he had his downs. there would always be bad days to chase the good. but he knows, and you know, that there will always be you, too, to help the bad days feel a little better. you are always there to understand, to hold him and help him up, to make everything a little more okay again.

you let him know that it's alright. that tomorrow is a new day. that tomorrow, he can try again. yes, tomorrow will be better, satoru believes, so long as he has you.

this fic is rough, to say the least, but i wanted to celebrate the loml's bday so!! hi!! alternative title: gojo oiled up butt booty naked like the 4th of july

#gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #satoru gojou #jjk imagines #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jjk #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojou #satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #reader insert

517 notes · View notes

cheesy-cryptid · 10 months

Text

Thought Id repost my old art series from last year about my fae ocs i keep drawing again [ here 1 and here 2 ] 🌷🌷🌷 this story was drawn by me and written by @widdlefangs as a collab based on this prompt

| A young boy was visited by royal fae guards one day, who so happen to have searched far and wide… for his little home economics project |

“The Boy and the Flower”

Perhaps it was a memory, or just the vivid imagination of a lonely child. But he swore that there was a time he was a protector of the woodland realm. He wasn’t particularly special in any way or form, but one thing he did have was his undeniably vivid imagination. The conjured sight of a knight, a cricket, and their sparrow mount, kindly requesting him for his 1st grade home economics project. “What shall it be sir, that eases your heart in parting with your callalily treasure? Be it great or many, we are prepared to compensate you for such a loss,” said the knight. “Our Queen is gravely ill, and your flower is the only remedy,” he stutters, an aching worry deep-set in his eyes, “we folk do not usually take any thing that doesn’t belong to us…maybe borrow a little here and there… but as a token of our respect, we humbly ask for your permission. Thus, young one, what shall it be?”

Looking back, he could have asked for riches or the rarest jewels, but his young mind was bereft of that adult greed, instead he asked, “Take me with you then, let me give it to her myself.” ---

The flower was not particularly special in any way or form, he thinks. Just a bloom that is as beautiful as any other bloom. He follows the knight’s quickened footsteps as best as he can into the chamber of the Queen.

He did not even have the luxury of beholding the majesties of the realm around him.

There beyond the sheer curtains was, whom he assumed was the Fae King, the crown of ancient wood resting upon his troubled brow, and in his arms, the pale husk of a Queen.

He falls to his knees and the King, in his worried state, wordlessly beckons for him to feed the bloom to the Queen. Laboriously, she takes the fragile petals between her cold lips.

She lays still for a moment, and perhaps a moment too long, until her chest rises, rises still, and she floats as the light consumes her fully, and the little boy beholds her in naked flame, terrible and divine in all her splendor. ---

“Well then,” she swirls around him like the wind, “who is the young one who gave up his greatest treasure to save my life?”

She took small his hands between his, the pale golden warmth speaking true that she yet draws breath.

“It’s only a flower, not really special. It’s no big deal,” he grinned his little gap-tooth grin. “I can grow more if you like, my teacher just said I need more seeds.”

He looked at the plant, now quite more plain looking without its white crown, yet still stands proud, a stubborn stalk.

The Queen gently tilts his chin up, “It was not the flower, my dear one, that cured me. It was your gift.”

---

“And then what happened after that?” piped up his dear friend, who was clinging to her seat in anticipation.

“And then,” he prompted, “they gave me this cool pin!” he declared, proudly brandishing a metal flower refrigerator magnet, tied on a piece of yarn.

“I am an official protector of the woodland realm, and a savior of her Majesty, the Fae Queen!”

His friends cheered for him, and after a day playing in the neighborhood park, they decided to get some yoghurt from the local store.

Prior to his little adventure, he believed himself not special in any particular way or form, just like his little flower.

But just like his little unassuming calla lily, his courage saved the Queen.

He didn’t need to imagine it at all.

END.

383 notes · View notes

morallyinept · 8 months

Text

Thrash Metal - A Dieter Bravo One Shot

Summary: When you arrive home, Dieter has a surprise for you.

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub.)

Word Count: 5.4k-ish

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I’m doing well, and then, you try to kill me.”

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Explicit - Oral F receiving/fingering/anal play/squirting/lots of spit & saliva/masturbation/mild dirty talk.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ. ☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

Author’s Note: Dieter, what dat tongue do? 👅 Alright, he's heeeeere. Tongue pierced Dieter. Woot.

Tagging @for-a-longlongtime @sp00kymulderr @ravensmadreads @whatsnewalycat @agentjackdaniels @chronically-ghosted because of stud-gate this week 😜

Has Frankie found a contender for title of 🐱👑??

MASTERLIST | DIETER BRAVO MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

“D, has something happened to your teeth?”

You narrow your gaze at him as you regard him standing before you, and there’s something... off.

He shakes his head. But keeps his mouth closed.

“Oh shit, you’ve not lost a tooth have you? Let me see.”

He shakes his head again; that fluff on his crown swaying, and steps back from your reach deliberately.

“Uhm-uhm.” His lips are rolled tight against each other.

“Dieter, what's up with you? What’s wrong with your mouth?” You say, trying not to smirk at his odd behaviour. But then again, that’s a fucking understatement where Dieter Bravo is concerned.

You’ve been back all of five minutes, jet-lagged to hell and needing a shower, and already there’s some quirky drama unfolding before your eyes.

Attempting - and failing at - nonchalance, he had greeted you with a seemingly forced smile as you stepped in the bedroom with consternation brewing around your temples, but his rapid eye blinking betrayed the subtle nervous energy lingering beneath the surface. It stopped you in your tracks as you lugged your case in.

You knew immeadiately something was up.

And as you try to engage in conversation now, his attempts at passive behaviour are punctuated by occasional fidgets, a breakdance of twitches that hint at a hidden unease, an untold secret.

The same look a dog gives you when they’ve shit all over the floor.

“Are you high?” You question speculatively. Ask a stupid question and ye shall receive a stupid answer, right?

The bedroom echoes with a delicate, yet rabid symphony of Dieter's astute nervous ticks - a restless tap of the foot, a darting glance toward the window and back through red, tired eyes; a momentary pause as he tries to control the involuntary movements. Fingers cracking silver metal bands against one another.

Despite his efforts to appear at ease, there's an undeniable undercurrent of tension, like a tightly wound spring threatening to unravel. A constant hungover spiral in his eyes.

Then Dieter shrugs with a lazy eyebrow cock and sheepish smile. Busted. He’s probably been high all fucking weekend.

You giggle. “What have you been up to?”

You cast your eye about the bedroom, nothing too telling or untoward to witness. The bed is unmade, nothing new there, and there’s no evidence of any bodily fluids in lumpy puddles that you can obviously spy.

When you ask the question, the room becomes a stage where he struggles to perform the role of casual indifference anymore; a two and fro between concealing and revealing the subtle nuances of his nervous twitches.

Do you even want to know?

But then, he beckons you over, with his two fingers and a smile that keeps his lips sealed shut like gummy glue.

He’s not said a word to you. Not even greeted you when you came in, despite you calling out to him repeatedly like a parrot. Just standing silently in the bedroom waiting for you.

An oversized sweatshirt, with the sleeves bunched around the elbows, hangs off of him. Baggy Harem pants sit lazily on his paunchy waist, with a pattern that makes you dizzier the more you look at it.

Hard to believe sometimes, that this man is an Emmy nominated actor, and not some vagabond that’s crawled in off the street looking to warm up.

He looks wildly uncouth, like he’s just rolled out of bed, and probably has, you deduce. You've learned that Dieter, although a fully grown man, doesn't do much when you're not around.

Almost like he's lost his inner compass and twirls in stuck circles of bad decisions, waiting for you to come back and set his navigational dial right again. You're his magnetic pole.

His hands are knotted behind his back and channelling an innocent little boy, rocking back and forth on his heels, who’s just done something suspiciously naughty. Like throw up in your Louboutins again.

Dieter doesn't answer your questions. He just offers nods or shakes of his head, with puzzling mmm’s or uhm’s being tossed at you, as you regale him with ranty anecdotes about your flight back from hell.

But you soon catch on that all is not well in the Bravo mansion as he remains suspiciously tight lipped.

“You’re being weird, why are you being weird?” You narrow, as you reach him.

You don’t want to panic or suspect the worst, but he’a giving you little recourse as it prickles at your scalp.

Past experience tells you that each time you leave, you come back to some sort of carnage. The man can't help it; anarchy sticks to him like Peter Pan's shadow. And Dieter has never been truly ready to grow up and vacate Neverland.

You feel his arms wrap around your lower back, his chest presses taught against yours as he pulls you in. Stacked shoulders mountain over you as one of your hands peak the summit, squeezing gently. You reach under the hem of his bobbling sweater with your other and rub his soft tummy affectionately.

“What did you do this time?” You probe looking into his chocolate browns. They’re a little tired and bloodshot. Puffy, with aging skin dried out a little up this close.

Dieter waggles his eyebrows and then leans in for a welcome kiss.

You avoid it, swerving, as he grazes your cheek; his breathy chortle ebbs out from behind his teeth clamped shut.

“I’m on to you, Mister. Something’s incredibly awry here.”

Smirking, he growls at your playful resistence, grabbing your chin and planting one on you, and your resolve instantly melts down your legs.

You moan gently as he places his lips on yours, delicately at first. As you inhale, he smells like Rasinettes, peculiarly. Dieter plants soft, little pecks that morph into hungry nips, and they soon have you wrestling for the deep trench of his mouth.

God, you've missed this quirky doof.

You slip your tongue in; your hands in the nape of his neck. Fingers curling around the unruly fluff there, matted with styling product that’s probably days old.

He whines into your mouth, clutching onto you tightly with a strength that lights fireworks inside your chest.

His warm tongue slithers against yours, and you gasp when you feel something cool and hard run across it suddenly.

You baulk, breaking the kiss.

"Is that... what I think it is?” You question, bewildered and instantly smirking.

You watch as the pale, pink flush of his lips shifts into the apples of his cheeks, lighting them up a neon magenta. Glowing, like a sleazy, back alley strip joint.

He didn’t… no way.

“Show me,” you cajole, your fingers trying to pull on his bottom lip eagerly.

Dieter slowly protrudes his tongue out at you; it's so long it reaches the end of his chin with ease. Towards the bottom of his tongue, nestled in the pink, wet velvet, lies a silver metal ball.

You start laughing. You can’t help it. It kind of just rolls up the back of your throat and out into his sheepish face.

Then he laughs, his hands rubbing up and down your back. His nails cragg down against the fibres of your top, your spine, and entice your nipples to wake up and pebble in response.

You can see your reflection in it; a cleverly crafted, hidden secret which you can’t stop staring at, despite your animated heckling.

He sucks his tongue back in and you shake your head incredulously.

“Are you having a midlife crisis?” You ask, trying to compose yourself.

He shrugs as though it’s no big deal. “I was high.”

You notice his speech is a little slurred. The foreign invasion in his mouth is somewhat difficult to navigate around basic colloquialism it seems.

Dieter with a lisp is inherently cute, you decide. You can feel your skin coming alive with goose bumps as a wave of delightful shivers dances along the hairs on your arms.

Eager neurons fire, creating a wave of exhilaration. It's a visceral experience, a fusion of giddy butterflies and a magnetic pull towards the rogue source of your body amping up - that darned piercing.

Every heartbeat seems synchronised with the rhythm of your sudden enthusiasm for it, orchestrating a melody of hedonistic anticipation that resonates within your sweat glands as you feel it trickle across the back of your neck and under your arms.

Your clit is standing at full attention.

Your mind is polluted with lewd imagery on a static screen, and you want to pause them all and zoom in so you can get off to them. The bedroom suddenly feels stifling.

“Let me see that again.” You sway.

Smirking at you, Dieter’s tongue rolls out of his mouth once more and you examine it closely.

The slight dip and rise of the barbell certainly hints at some drugged up rebellion. You can only imagine the state he must have been in to embark on such a perilous, and stupid, endeavour. His agent will be pissed.

But you’re not surprised in the slightest that he’d try something wild like this. It’s almost as bold as the kiss print tattoo on his ass cheek. Fucking idiot.

“It’s coming out, it fucking kills, babe. I swear, I’ve chipped a tooth already.” The rhythmic clinks of the stud against his gnashers creates a distinct soundtrack to his words.

“Can you see?” He opens wide and points to his back molars. “Ack ere,” he mouths.

“No, no chip.” You confirm. Nothing but pink gums and filled molars.

“You sure?” He sucks in around his cheeks ungraciously, like he’s got wadding in his mouth from a horrific visit to the dentist, and is trying not to drool from numbed out lips.

“D. Why did you do this?” You ask, pecking at his scruff and nuzzling into him.

He shrugs. “I woke up with it three days ago... Went out. I don't remember. Can’t eat solids. I bit down on it and almost shit myself. Hurts too much.”

You can't help but titter again. “Then why didn’t you just take it out?”

And despite his inert melancholy, and some possible resentment about it, he shifts. His stance and his facial expression mould into something all too wildly familiar.

And you feel it too as he tunes into that x-rated channel hopping in your mutual, debauched hive mind to pick something he knows you'll both enjoy.

“Because,” he says with that shit eating grin getting wider “I heard it can be fun.”

As he speaks, the metallic gleam of the tongue stud catches the light, accentuating his confident, brash words with a hint of flippant audacity.

Yeah, baby. You know you want me.

Each subtle movement from the sly smile to the now thoughtful pause, draws attention to the unconventional accessory that whispers a sordid tale of some narcotic imposed masochism. Chaotic alignment in all its glory, punctured right through that fleshy muscle that clicks in his mouth at you.

Calling you out, persuading you to join the darkside, because your partner now has a tongue stud. Fuck.

“Fun you say?” You query with another smirk brewing.

“Yeah,” he tightens his grip around you and pulls you closer, fingers slipping down onto your ass. You can already feel what kind of fun hardening between his legs.

“For you, I mean.” Dieter clarifies.

You swallow and grin, and the room sways as you register the whiplash from such an impulse. Anticipation wraps around your veins like a tightly coiled spring, ready to release a burst of energy at the slightest trigger.

Your senses heighten, capturing every nuance in the air that crackles like electric. Time seems to stretch, elongating moments as you eagerly conjure and play out every scenario that can, and will more than likely go down.

And you can see he’s pulling it apart too. Mentally jacking off to the sights it envokes.

Your imaginations play like a vivid movie collection, building suspense with each scene of that infernal tongue, sheathed with a metal counterpart added into your foreplay.

It's a crescendo of excitement, a cacaphony of heightened awareness and the sweet agony of expectation that makes your cunt clench wildly.

“Are you telling me you mutilated yourself so you could eat me out with a tongue stud?” You put to him.

“Don’t act like you’re not intrigued, babe.” He sucks back the fluid pooling in his mouth again with a wispy slurp.

“Oh, you can colour me fucking intrigued, D.”

“I thought so.” He croons with that razor grin coming for you like a chainsaw.

He slips his tongue back into your mouth and your own vies for the stud, sliding over it smoothly, and waking something carnal with lacquer claws inside you.

Tongues flicking and sliding over one another, you can taste the herbal, ashy remnants of a probable joint on his. You suck on his tongue feverishly; each of you braying with one another to choke the other on those twisty muscles.

“Ah Jesus.” He whimpers.

“Did I hurt you?” You ask, pulling back.

You cup his cheek, fingers reaching to fiddle with his earring glinting in his lobe, affectionately.

He’s always had a flair for flouting the conventional. A man of his advancing age with tattoos and piercings has a great appeal. You often admire his body art with curious fingertips, or a swirling tongue that traces the patterns, making his skin shiver.

“No, that actually feels better. Do it again.” Dieter prompts.

You run your tongue gently around the circumference of the stud in his mouth as you kiss him once again.

“Mmm,” he sighs into your cheeks. “Yeah, like that.” His grip on you becomes tighter, desperate.

You suck gently on his bottom lip and he crushes your head in his giant hands, guiding you backwards, clumsily, to the uncouthly made bed.

His tongue licks deep to get more of that sensual relief from the aching pang, as your breathing muffles around his mouth.

“Fuck, you’re making me so hard,” he whines. You reach down and give him a gentle squeeze over his jazzy pants and another grunt tumbles out of him.

“You need something, D?” You tease, stroking the obvious tenting. There’s already a wet patch blooming into the material.

He catches his breath, his lips shiny from your kiss and nods his head quickly and excitedly. “But you first.” He smirks.

Your breath becomes a frantic, rhythmic cadence, syncing with the anticipation pulsating through you. The warmth between your thighs radiates, burning you up.

Dieter reaches for your jeans and tugs them down as you sit backwards on the bed. You jostle with your panties, almost comically as you fumble around your desperateness - the elastic getting caught round your toes.

You roll them up and chuck them at him. Catching them, he brings them to his nose and sniffs in deep, emitting a low growl. You watch, as he brazenly stuffs them into the front of his pants, wrapping the flimsy silk of them around his cock.

He jerks himself, once, twice, three times with them before climbing in between your now spread wide legs.

“What a welcome home,” you grin as he smooches up your inner thigh.

He eyes your cunt, sopping and glistening at him. “Touch yourself,” he mutters.

He sucks the saliva down his throat again and it makes you giggle rambunctiously at the sound.

“It’s.” Kiss. “Not.” Kiss. “Funny.” Kiss.

“It’s a little funny.” You titter as his dark eyes flick up at you, hungrily.

Your fingers find their way, slipping into your folds as Dieter hums out in praise as he continues kissing up your thigh.

“How good does that pussy feel?”

“So good.” You moan as you slip over your clit and feel the delicious pang of sweetly mixed pleasure that aches. "I'm so wet for you, Dieter."

“Yeah, you’re soaking.” He agrees, gawping at it, lips dragging closer. "All because of this?"

You watch, in breathless awe, as he rolls his tongue out again; the gleam of the stud flashing at you, and then disappearing from sight as he lowers his head.

You hitch your breath in anticipation, your own fingers removed from your apex, and waiting eagerly for the moment.

You can feel his breath, so warm and moist against you already. So fucking close, but he lingers.

You feel him blow gently and you shudder with the alternating warmth and coolness against you.

“D! Don’t tease me,” you gasp.

“What?” He muses innocently as you feel his breath waft against your lips again. The very slight, tiniest probe of his tongue is felt at the bottom of your slit.

“Oh my God.” You whine.

You hear him laugh, snuffling around his breaths with his tongue still hanging out. A throaty wheeze reverberates as he tickles you ever so lightly, barely ghosting over you there.

Another tiny little prod of his tongue and he withdraws quickly. “You taste so good.” He moans, sucking in again with the hypersalivation.

“Please.”

“What, babe? Tell me what you want.”

“You know what I want.”

“I want to hear you tell me. Slut it up for me.”

You roll your eyes and sigh. “You want me to beg?”

“Yah. Pretty much.” He confirms with a smirk. “Beg me to tongue fuck you.” His eyes almost appear jet now. His fingers feel absorb into your skin. “Tell me.” He grizzles.

“I wanna feel your tongue fucking the shit out of my pussy, D.”

“Yeah!”

“Mmhm. I wanna come all over your face, I want to see it dripping down your chin.”

“Oh, that’s amazing, so hot! I love it when you squirt all over me.”

“Wanna see you soaked. Want to smell it in your beard...” You hum. "Fuck I want to taste myself in your mouth, D."

“Drown me in it.”

“Just please... eat me, Dieter!” You wail, reaching forward for his head and shoving it against your cunt in desperation.

He immediately clamps his mouth over your mound, and you feel that tongue delve into your folds. Running his lips over your outer labia, then wiggling that uneashed tongue deeper inside.

You feel the stud, probing against you in a contrasting coolness, despite it being nestled in the warmth of his plush mouth.

“Mmm, God.” You groan, fingering through his scalp; scissoring tufts of his ratty hair between your fingers.

You can feel the soft prickle from the scruff above his lips tickle and graze as he plunders in further, teasing the outer well of your entrance with the pointed tip of his tongue.

You hiss, head becoming slack on your shoulders; a weightless ball with no pivot, as you shudder.

He pushes in, fucks you slowly and deviously. Lapping, you can feel the stud rub deliciously against your honeyed insides.

“Mmm, fuck. I can feel it,” you smile blissfully. “Oh wow!”

“You like it?”

You nod dreamily, with blown pupils like you’re tripping balls. “Feels really good, D… ah yeah.”

He pulls you apart gently with his fingers, spreading you to reveal the shiny layers of glossy skin. Your clit’s raised and swollen out of its hood as he teases across the tip with the point of his tongue.

Then he lets you feel it; lets the ball of the stud roll over it with ease in a slippery stroke.

Your thighs twitch at the sensation. The slight weight of it - swift and fluid as it skates effortlessly in your slick - makes you groan deeply.

You watch it, how it brushes and knocks against you. Watch how he watches you back, knowing that he’s just utterly fucked your shit up.

“Fuck,” you gasp.

“Yeah? Watch me tongue you.” He smirks as he flickers back and forth, looking back at you with those deep browns.

Watching you watch him as he suctions his lips fully over your clit, sucking like a man starved of water in the desert. Then he lets it go, and flicks his tongue and the stud over that hard, buzzing nub again.

“Yeah!” You pant. "Yes, yes!"

Your eyes cloud over, your vision steams around the edges. It feels so good, so tight and bunching as the ball end runs delicious, chaotic circles around you, making your thighs ripple with each stroke.

Dieter pauses momentarily to swipe into your fleshy ribbons; strings of your slick break from his tongue as he pulls back and observes the mess he’s making of you, with your gloss smeared across his greying, prickly cheek.

You reach forward and run your thumb over his lip and suck it off, tasting yourself. He mouths the word fuck at you in stunned awe as you do so.

He’s relentless as you start moaning, your pants becoming strangled in your throat, fists wrenching in the sheets. Hips lifting and pushing further into his face to seek more, more!

God, you fucking need more!

He works you up with his tongue, relentlessly stroking, licking and sucking all over your saturated cunt. The tongue stud adding to the heightened sensations; the giddy thrill and pleasure of it all builds as glittery phosphenes start to blind you.

He knows you’re so close, so easy to shunt over that edge right now with a mere jab in your lower back. And you’ll be free falling, diving head first into an ocean full of electrical waves.

And he’s enjoying your show of moans and whispers of his name so much to deny you of a good push, or two. Hell, maybe even three.

Dieter speeds up, tongue going twenty to the dozen on your clit like it’s battery operated. The metal ball thrumming against you with just the perfect amount of pressure.

He only stops to suck you up; swallow the glassy slick that pools and leaves tracks, and then he’s settling back into that giddy pace of bubbling annihilation.

“God, your fucking tongue, D!” You wail beside yourself. Legs akimbo and up in the air as though they’re resting in stirrups.

He leans on his elbow, head cocked and resting against your thigh. Insipid tongue wiggling all over your clit ferociously.

You start shaking; your hole already contracting, yearning for his cock to squeeze around. Bearing down on an empty space as you clench and tighten; all of your coils about ready to snap.

And the son of a bitch knows it.

Dieter is wild; like a rabid dog drooling all over you. He shakes his head back and forth crazily as his tongue sweeps side to side over that juicy, swollen clit, humming in delight as he suckles and licks it.

He pulls on your labia, sucking and popping it out of his mouth in lewd squelches.

“Look at you, all spread open for me.” Dieter croons with that slick, sticky smile.

He spits on your pussy and you gasp, biting your lip as his eyes flicker up to you darkly.

He runs his saliva with his fingers all over your cunt. He holds eye contact as he leans in again and sucks on your clit; your body jerking wildly in response.

“Oooooooh fuck!” You cry. “Yeah, oh don’t stop…”

The tongue tornado he’s blasting you with now is making you shake and see ultraviolet stars, sewn like sequins into the back of your eyelids.

He stops licking and sucking, and slips his fingers into you; index and middle right up to the base of his rings.

With his other hand, he pinches your clit out of the hood and runs the ball of the stud around it relentlessly as he fucks you with his fingers curling inside of you.

An insidious puppet master controlling his marionette as you dance on your giddy strings before him.

“Holy shit!” You gasp and cream like crazy.

He can feel you contracting around his fingers as he continues the lick job. Your legs shake violently like in the throes of a demonic possession.

“Fuck, fuuuuuuck! D, I'm coming!”

With your legs spread wide, Dieter, Dieter pussy eater, draws back to watch you come, pulling his fingers out. Just watching with rapt attention as that slit of wet, drenched lips pulses like it’s breathing of its own volition.

Your hole flexing and contracting like a small mouth breathing; the nib of your clit jerking and pulsing as though headbanging to thrash metal.

He marvels, with a wide grin, as your body shakes, the smarmy bastard, and then dives right back in to taste you and repeat the carnage all over again.

You try to shut your legs, crushing his chin and cheeks into your thigh meat, but he keeps you anchored. Preventing you from squirming away, despite how intense it now feels as he continues gnawing on your over-sensitized clit and knocking the stud against it like thunder.

You’re panting now, breathless. Choking on the sensation of his name being lodged and wrenched from the back of your throat.

"D... Oh fuck, Dieter."

And he's got you there again; pulls you up and balances you on the ledge once more, to simply push you off and watch you fly.

As you come again, it froths around his lips. Bubbles of your slick squelching and catching in his scruffy ‘tache, and Dieter hums deeply in satisfaction as he swallows it all down.

He licks you through it, barely settling his pace as he pushes you towards overstimulation. You try to squirm away, but his hands anchor your thighs open and apply the pressure. His eyes flick up to you, flaring brilliantly.

I’m not done with you yet, babe.

He smirks around his tongue hanging out, flashing the fucking audacity of that stud at you as he waggles it about on your clit, and watches you shake with every zap it causes.

“Oh-fuck-fuck-don't-stop-please-D! Fuck!” You blabber.

And then he places a kiss on your pussy, a gentle little mwah. The sweetest of smooches before he dives inside you with his tongue again.

“Dieter!” You holler.

His hands wind under your thighs and rest on your stomach, slowly massaging and squeezing the soft fat there.

“Mmm,” he whines. The tip of his nose grazes your clit as he slides his tongue in and out of your hole.

You feel him go lower still and run his tongue around the tight knot of your ass.

“Mmm,” you coo as you gasp.

You feel the stud run over that puckered, tight flesh and back up again as he detours to your ass, and you feel the tip of his tongue circle it teasingly.

Tracks of his saliva and your slick have slid down to your ass and they glisten at him as he pulls back. His cock twitches in exasperation to just rub himself all in it.

It takes every inch of restraint not to pull himself out and splash you down with his come already. But he wants you to enjoy this; savour the piercing whilst it’s still in because after this, that bitch is coming out.

He works through the pain, that dull throbbing, and for a while forgets about it completely as he drowns himself in your folds.

He wants to fuck you so bad. Just get his cock wet inside you and feel you gush all over him. Shit, it’s a fucking drug. He’s addicted to this pussy, can’t give it up.

Just one more hit. Just one more hit.

He reaches down and gives himself a squeeze, feels your panties still stuffed in there around him and pumps. He grunts into your hole, fluttering around his tongue.

He wants to cover you with his come. Paint you with it. Watch as it seeps through your lips and down to your ass.

Flood you with every bit of him and lick it all up after.

“Oh, fuck.” He growls audibly around your pussy at the thought; his cock pulses in his grip and he swears he’s almost there himself. A few more pumps and he’ll be spilling liberally in your panties.

The best part is when he’s come, and then he slips himself back inside you; feels your mutual wet warmth and carries on thrusting gently. Sometimes, and when he’s not completely whacked out of his gourd, Dieter can get fully hard again inside you doing just that.

Just feeling the gentle pulsing of your walls post-orgasm, twitching around him, brings him back from the brink of a floppy death. Building himself up and spraying you down again and again.

The sex between you lasting for hours. Just fucking you with his come all over your mound, sticking in your thighs and on his belly. Watching in intense awe as that cream pie pearls out of you.

Yeah, fuck that’s nice.

Dieter thinks about the way in which he fucks you; flexing his hips upwards in a circular motion to hit directly on that spot that makes you go cross-eyed every damn time.

Your reach forward through your legs, feeling your stomach crunch as you weave your hand through his hair again, subtly crushing his face to your centre, grinding up against it and he thrashes back and forth.

“I want you to squirt, babe. You think you can do that for me?”

“Make me,” you plead, hoarsely and nodding.

He circles, teasing up and down; sweetly sinful licks as he brushes the hub of you with the bar. He runs his fingertips gently over you; your clit bobbling under the pads of them and you groan before he slides back and inserts a finger into you, pulling it out and dragging the gooey slick over it.

He teases those swollen pussy lips around his tongue as you buzz wildly.

“I love how soaked you get. Fuck.” His eyes twinkle as you glance down at him.

He slips in another finger, down to the hilt, and pulls it out; rubbing them together and feeling the silky wet of you around his thick digits.

“Come all over my face. Soak me. Soak me!” He instructs. He pluders his fingers deep inside you, stroking fast against your spot. The metal batters against your clit as he flicks his tongue back and forth over it.

“Oh fuck, D!” You wail, arching and writhing as he increases his speed and the pressure of his deeply buried digits. “Holy shit, that’s so fucking good! Keep going, baby! I'm almost there!”

You hear him quaff in; the wetness of your cunt sucked to the back of his throat as he thrashes his tongue about like in the throes of a mosh pit.

The beads on his wrist clack together in a fast tempo as he finger fucks you hard. Those two fingers sluicing in and out of your hole as the stud flicks back and forth, sending you soaring, higher and higher.

Frothy, cream foams in your lips. And he tastes it all in his mouth, groaning for more.

You can feel it, rushing into your core, bearing down and contracting. The weight felt against your bladder like a shock. Your core muscles tighten and weigh heavier as it builds.

And he pulls it out of you like an incantation.

You go momentarily deaf; your body feels like it's rising, floating off the bed entirely in those few seconds before it hits.

Before the wave crashes through your core and gushes out of you.

“Oh my God, oh shit! DIETER!!”

You give him what he wants, you utterly soak him. Wet splashes of you spray his face and sluice down his chin. You soak the front of his sweater as he draws back to watch you squirt buck wild as you explode.

“Fuck yeah!” He’s utterly beside himself and can feel his cock pulse wildly as he immeadiately spurts around your panties too.

Thick, pearly strings congeal around your labia as he breathes out groaning, and licks up and down your slit slowly and languidly.

The stud hits your overly sensitised clit and you flinch like you’ve been tasered.

He pants as he licks you clean like he’s just run a marathon. He runs his chin up, smirking as your slick catches in the fuzzy hairs of it, and he leans up and plants a kiss on the soft skin just under your belly button, gently making out with it.

“Mmm,” you groan languidly with heavy lids. He climbs up your body and rubs his sticky chin and lips across your mouth and cheeks, as you giggle and wail at him to get off you.

He chuckles and rests up over you on his palms; broad shoulders hunched and his sweater riding up over his belly. You can feel the jab of his thick cock against you.

“Show me that tongue,” you prompt and he sticks it out at you, craning his neck down into you so you can suck gently on the end of it; taste the stud inside your mouth and the sweet tang of your cunt.

You smile at him, completely blissed out through heavy eyes, that same relaxed glassiness about you when you’ve just taken a deep drag of dope and cuddle up with him to watch Weekend At Bernies.

“Maybe I should keep it, the stud?” Dieter suggests with that hint of a lisp again.

You giggle and toss a pillow up at him. It boffs the side of his face and he chortles, trying not to drool once more.

“Maybe you should,” you smirk as he plants a fat, sticky kiss on your mouth.

You reach down inside his pants to give him a squeeze and feel how wet it is in there.

“Couldn’t help it,” he says to you bashfully as you grin at him. “That was too fucking hot.”

Dieter smirks, sticking his damned, metal filled tongue back out at you again.

Thanks ever so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed some tongue time with Dieter! 👅🖤

MASTERLIST | DIETER BRAVO MASTERLIST

#dieter bravo #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo the bubble #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo fanfic #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo trash panda #dieter bravo fanfiction #jett's writing #dieter is a menace

254 notes · View notes

ninibeingdelulu · 13 days

Note

mello x female reader fanfic please

The only one who understand ✧

Plot: You have to care of his injured hands, since you’re the only one he don’t seems to loathe.

A/N: tyy for requesting,I made it quite long (I love Mello🙈).

The fortified sanctuary's hectic ambiance assaulted your senses the second you slipped back through the concealed entrance.

A cacophony of enraged shouts and visceral clatters erupted from every direction amidst the disorienting smokescreen of frenzied bodies scattering haphazardly underfoot like panicked rodents.

Grunting curses laced the stale air already thick with undertones of sweat, gunpowder and lingering cigarette haze.

Each booming impact and deafening crash colliding throughout the labyrinthine corridors reverberated exponentially more jarring than the last ricocheting against your rattled equilibrium.

It didn't require much investigative prowess to deduce Mello had predictably detonated into another hellish tempest once again thrashing a path of destruction throughout their illicit headquarters.

The volatile blond tempering every waking breath with constant reminders of his sworn vengeance against Near while pursuing that insatiable obsession to crown himself the true successor surpassing L's sacred legacy...

Sure enough, the first henchman stumbling within reach instantly recognized you gripped your sleeve yanking you directly into the ensuing chaos sweeping through their stronghold.

Their coarse raspy shouts strained against the cacophony struggled conveying intel about Mello raging ballistic yet again pummeling anything within reach while berating the whole incompetent crew over their latest "intolerable failure" chasing down potential Kira leads that could help thwart Near.

Until eventually the tantrum crescendoed into the unhinged maniac turning those pistol-whipping fists against his own physicality thrashing against every available surface amidst a frenzy of indiscriminate impacts until that unmistakable crimson liquid began splattering across his immediate radius.

"Just go talk some damn sense into that lunatic before he decimates the whole goddamn place!"

The grunt spat venom-laced demands punctuated by another tooth-rattling clang in the distance.

"You're the only one crazy enough he'll actually listen to instead of putting a fucking bullet between your eyes..."

True enough.

Throughout the countless weeks since becoming embroiled within Mello's ultra-clandestine syndicate operation, you'd cultivated an inexplicable rapport with the unstable wildcard harboring tempestuous complexities rivaling the most virulent hurricane season.

While the rest of his enlisted underlings cowered under the unrelenting brunt of those psychopathic tirades and physical outbursts on an almost daily cycle, somehow Mello left you largely untouched whenever his metal instabilities detonated.

Almost like he intuitively sensed any attempts to direct that scorching tempest your way would be met with an immovable force absorbing the impact rather than recoiling in fear.

Either out of calculating pragmatism assessing the futility after your first few indifferent brushes with those demonic bellows...or potentially recognizing shards of that same jagged internal shrapnel lodged within your own calloused essence resonating against those manic frequencies - you'd never really invested much thought deciphering the unspoken détente arising between you both.

Most days it simply existed lingering in the background behind those evasive glares and minimal exchanges required between two strangers bound by shared circumstance pursuing their own shadowy agendas.

Nothing more, nothing less - just the unspoken rules observed out of mutual indifference rather than genuine kinship.

Of course, that dynamic abruptly transformed whenever Mello erupted yet again unleashing those ungodly furies with even more ballistic intensity than usual.

Where his go-to lieutenants knew better than courting that explosive volatility's blast radius themselves, instead redirecting you towards diffusing those pressurized tensions threatening to rupture the entire syndicate apart through sheer centrifugal forces alone.

Your boots thumped across the reinforced steel grating resonating against every immobilized soul cowering under whatever futile shelter from Mello's path of destruction by the time you reached that familiar threshold outside his personal quarters.

Cautiously extending your knuckles against the cold slab you initiated the requisite succession of coded rapping signalings before easing the barrier open inch-by-inch.

"Mello, it's me..."

You murmured evenly keeping your tone deliberately hushed despite straining against the eardrum-pounding roars shuddering through every supportive crossbeam.

The shadowy silhouette towering past six feet instantly whipped around piercing straight through you from across that lightless chamber.

More sounds erupted reverberating against your ribs like shockwaves detonating directly behind that shrouded outline undulating with each strangled inhalation raging against whatever internal vortex still consumed every iota of Mello's essence.

Until a single gnarled fist suddenly slammed down splintering the heavy oaken desk's reinforced surface signaling that same rapt focal point now gravitating your direction with unmistakable intensity.

Even before any true details crystallized Mello's omnipresent perfume of melding tobacco resin and dark chocolate immediately smothered your sinuses simultaneously triggering a euphoric blisswave correlated with inhaling the mere ambrosial traces surrounding that masculine presence alone.

Physical sensations subconsciously registering beyond just his visually imposing specimen beneath those apocalyptic leathers concealing taut musculature undulating with each sinuous movement.

Despite the abyssal darkness veiling his striking features under those tousled blonde hair, the second those emerald daggers flashed into sharp focus drilling straight into your psyche's core something instinctual stirred to visceral awakening beyond just the typical detached placidness required during these outbursts' aftermaths.

Something primal and ancient roiled against those scorching radiations searing across your exposed meridians shattering every remaining pretense keeping those protective barriers upright.

At least until the full reality slammed home precisely what caused Mello to detonate into his latest raging furor this time unleashed against his own physicality.

"Your hands, Mello...oh fuck, what did you do?"

You muttered weakly in dismay tracking the thick crimson rivulets still oozing a fresh spiderweb of intricate tributaries across the backs of his knuckles speckled with mottled contusions already purpling the surrounding tissue.

The subterranean baritone emitting from his larynx rumbled seismic-grade frequencies rattling directly through your core nearly causing you to crumble under the inexorable gravitas.

"I've done nothing to deserve the time wasted worrying over anything so insignificant."

His lethally contemptuous rasp corroded any remaining self-composure away into atomic vapor particles along with the last vestiges restraining your own deep-rooted instincts.

Pupils blown wide you immediately closed the proximity chasm separating you both without conscious navigation permitting your impulses to seize the controls untethered from rational faculties.

"Insignificant to you maybe...but not to me. I'm not just going to stand back and watch you self-destruct whenever another inner demon you can't contain possesses you into violence."

You snapped with startling vehemence, already retrieving the medkit lashed around your shin before unzipping the storage pouches scouring for the necessary disinfectant swabs and gauzes.

Remaining hyperfocused through the flickering peripherals tracking his imperious silhouette rigid like a statuesque pillar appraising your sudden shift into unfamiliar dominance with an unspoken curiosity even amidst this latest eruption's chaotic maelstrom still encircling you both within its shadowy epicenter.

Despite the constant looming threat of triggering another powder keg detonation you refused to shrink under that oppressive umbra's scrutiny practically seething the contemptuous disregard for anything resembling self-preservation.

Instead doubling down upon stabilizing Mello's talons into your grasp before methodically dabbing their lacerations with the sterilizing solution triggering that sharp intake of breath fracturing the stiff facade momentarily.

"Why the fuck do you even care at all?"

He growled through gritted dentals straining under the sting's potent stinging allowing you to complete the field dressings against his other hand now.

"None of you mewling curs grasps the full stakes or reasons driving this crusade in the first place!"

You instantly halted meeting his pyroclastic glare directly without flinching away from the radioactive fury threatening to incinerate you at any second like damned souls tempting Hellfire's roiling oblivion up close.

A series of rapid blinks sluggishly tamped down the rising embers threatening to reignite your own internal inferno awakening from slumber at last after Mello's latest incendiary provocation...

"You're right - I don't understand whatever personal retribution possesses you into pushing everything toward these explosive breaking. But it’s maybe because I just don’t want to know.”

The shrouded lair's stifling ambience thickened into a dense miasma permeating every exposed surface while you instinctively held Mello's seething glare locked within your own.

Two disparate yet intrinsically carved souls simultaneously drinking deep from the other's darkest wellsprings momentarily exposed amidst this latest eruption.

Tension crackled against every ion reverberating between you both amplifying exponentially with each passing nanosecond.

Until eventually your defiant breaths steadied enough to puncture the loaded silence catalyzing Mello to finally break first.

"You really don't fear pushing any of my buttons at all, do you?"

He sneered in that distinctive raspy baritone simultaneously fascinating and petrifying in its lethality.

"Even knowing full well the kinds of primal savagery I'm capable of unleashing without hesitation."

His defined jaw clenched fractionally tighter enhancing each subsequent word's razor-edged enunciation slicing through the densely charged atmosphere.

"Yet here you remain unflinching while the rest scurry like cockroaches instead of honoring the reasons behind what fuels my relentless pursuit for justice against a world crumbling under its own corruption and depravity."

You imperceptibly gulped forcing down the electrified pulses igniting across your dermis from the scorching intensities radiating off Mello's magnificent towering specimen in such perilously close proximity now.

Still you refused ceding even an iota of faltering resolution keeping your vocals modulated towards an evenness defying the inferno singeing away the last vestiges of self-restraint.

"I don't understand whatever haunts the darkest recesses of your psyche propelling these obsessions to attain vindication at all costs."

You stated softly while unconsciously caressing the fresh dressings swaddling his pulverized hands stained with the evidence.

His piercing emerald orbs ignited brighter than any starburst you'd ever witnessed coring straight through into your essence's deepest marrow while both bodies slanted imperceptibly closer again.

Magnetically drawn into reigniting these raging pulsations coursing between your polarized charged fields once more.

"However I do comprehend the pain lying behind those cathartic outbursts all too intimately after enduring my own similar methods failing to purge those internal demons from my core."

You inhaled sharply maintaining eye contact while Mello's incendiary glower bored deeper dissecting each syllable.

"Recklessly lashing out against whatever targets are convenient for unleashing the full force of those turbulent tempests doesn't eliminate the hurt fueling them. It only propels perpetuating darker cycles consuming everything and everyone still possessed by those untamed torments."

The faintest flicker danced across his irises momentarily fracturing the obsidian mask's density with something unreadable yet distinctly...human?

Resonating against your own vulnerabilities before Mello regained that facade siphoning the potency back under ironclad subjugation immediately.

His nostrils flared fractionally while slowly rearing up until the imposing frame radiated down at you like an indomitable fortress's ramparts eclipsing everything else into insignificance by comparison.

That penetrating smolder remained affixed scorching away layer-by-layer until both essences bled together again forged solely through the primal fire's merciless crucible alone...

"You really don't fear me at all, do you....?"

The raspy whisper materialized directly against your ear's sensitized shell detonating shockwaves rattling every gaslit ganglion again.

Mello's muscular silhouette blotted away any remaining light bleeding through the chamber's partitions until just that singular immense corona remained glowing behind your retinae now.

Lording over everything with an intensity seizing away all self-possession spiraling your descent into purely instinctual compulsions alone surrendering to the unyielding gravitic force drawing you both closer...closer...until...

The scalding friction of his rough fingertips impacted your jaw trembling through the delicate musculature leaving smoldering trails in their wake while your irises rolled back overwhelmed by such potent sensory overload.

They traced upwards towards those angular crimson-kissed contours lingering within the crest before his forehead crashed against yours sending fractal sunbursts detonating outward against the rapidly contracting peripherals.

"You are the only one who doesn't run away petrified whenever I tear off the final mask restraining my most primal nature..."

He snarled under scorched breath dripping directly between your rapidly shallowing gasps.

"Instead you challenge the beast by refusing to submit or break no matter how intensely I provoke you towards unleashing your own inner demons in turn. Perhaps that is the real justice we both ultimately crave most of all..."

You bit your lips, eyebrows furrowing slightly at the sudden proximity of your bodies. Then, something snapped in him, realizing he let his emotions shown. Again.

First anger then, God he didn’t even know why, with you vulnerability.

He simply inhaled sharply, before storming out of his private room. Leaving you alone, your mind racing with questions you knew you will never have the answers.

#mello death note #mello #mello x reader #mello x you #death note x y/n #death note x you #death note x reader #death note headcanons #mihael keehl #mello fluff #mello angst #death note smut

46 notes · View notes

vampuplove · 3 months

Text

my tmnt iteration 🐢

yoshi aka splinter found the 4 turtles inside a crashed TCRI truck. the mutagen from broken canisters covered both him and the turtles mutating them. it is implied that when struck by the truck the blow killed yoshi but the mutagen restarted his heart and mended any injuries, reviving him. the turtles aren’t biologically sister as they are of different species and therefore from different clutches. as turtles they had anywhere between months and a day age difference but when mutated it translated into human years explaining the 2 year gap between mikey and leo/raph but the age is estimated and instead of birthday the turtles celebrate their mutation day. splinter eventually discovered an abandoned metro station that was never opened and decided to stay in there as their home. the station had a small cafe area and public restroom and thankfully hasn’t been cut from the city’s power and water grids. april met the turtles when they were 7 and she was 16, splinter left them in an alleyway while looking for food and supplies and april stumbled upon them. at first splinter was really freaked out when he saw april but when he realised she was friendly and didn’t mean no harm they got to know each other and sometimes april would come down to the lair to babysit the turtles while splinter was out. she eventually introduced the turtles to pizza when she brought a box with her and they fell in love with it.

the designs are mid show of sorts that are after the barn arc

leonardo: a bellinger turtle with leatherback sea turtle genes. the eldest and the most aquatic out of all the turtles. likes spending her time swimming in the flooded metro tunnel situated in the centre of their lair. she got a similar virus to what regular bellinger turtles have making her slowly lose her vision as she aged. that did not stop her as she learned to rely on her other sense and acquired a 6th sense of sorts to help her get around. her blindness doesn’t hinder her in combat and actually makes her more capable of moving around in the dark than her sisters but still she cannot see faces so instead she maps them out in her mind by touching them with her hands to memorise them. she has shell cell just like everyone else except it is modified to show in braille. in her free time she enjoys listening to music or audio books and if her sisters are around listening to tv while one of them describes the action on the screen. she has physical hatsune miku memorabilia like figures and plushies that she can touch. leo can still see in blurs of colour but no matter what donnie tried she couldnt help her vision. she is self conscious of the scars given to her by shredder and tries to cover them with a hood. while still agile and strong she has issues with her right knee and wears a knee brace. her element is the ocean waves

raphael: a red crowned turtle with cherryhead tortoise genes. she is the second eldest. she is the worst swimmer but makes up for it in physical strength. the piece of her plastron was cracked during an accident while they were small and the lore for the gold tooth is yet to be decided. the flame carving on her plastron was made by mikey. she is extremely protective of her sister and although gets jealous by assuming that leo is splinter’s favourite still loves her very much. has a tortoise named spike a small brine shrimp tank. she was the first to meet casey and thought back against her drunk father. her element is flame

donatello: a painted turtle with softshell turtle genes. she is the middle child and spends most of her time in her lab. she built the heat lamp above the sitting area where her and her sisters like to bask and relax after a long day. her shell was crushed by rocksteady and bebop but fortunately with leatherheads helped bring her back with a new metal carapace to replace her old on. sarcastic and cool headed, her personality resembling 87 raph. her love language is random niche gadgets. she is the next most aquatic after leo and sometimes joins leo for a swim. her element is lightning

michelangelo: the most creative out of all of them and has a lot of hobbies ranging between art and crafts to cooking and skateboarding. is the glue of the family with a spunky attitude and quick thinking. although the worst fighter out of her family she still can handle herself in a fight. has an orange tabby cat she named klunk that she found while looking for scraps at a junkyard. she can be a little absent minded but she is definitely not unintelligent and takes great offence to anyone babying her. her element is constellations

#tmnt #tmnt fandom #tmnt iteration #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt au #tmnt raphael #tmnt leonardo #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt donatello #vampuplove’s tmnt #tmnt art #tmnt design

77 notes · View notes

merchant-wizard-and-jerry · 4 months

Text

“Hello, I’m the friendly wizard _____. My name got taken by a fey prince but it hasn’t really hampered my life. Anyways I am new to this wider wizard community and would like to get along. I have a magic book, a cart, and a friend. His name is Jerry, he is a fungus colony that has taken over my magic book and acts sort of as my patron. He…is a little weird but great fun.”

*sound of an explosion in the background, a book flys by being chased by goblin shamans casting fire ball*

“He is…”

“He is fine.”

“Anyways, I am here to sell goods and make a small profit. If you need something I’ll see what I can do : ) ”

“Also apparently I helped smuggle an amnesiac @fattocatto-wizard out of the city in my wagon. That was a shock, though he was just a cat.

Character Cheat sheet

( 3 currency to 16 silver crowns and 2 copper crowns)

(Current balance 84,127.750001 currency, one penny, 23 meat pucks, 14 pounds, 2 gold coins one with Julius Cesar on it, 3 naturally-grown mana stones, 2 highly enchant able metal pieces, and one bar, 1 special bug corpse, 1154 gold, silver 18, 70 aus, 5kg silver, magic dirt house size. 24 counterfeit currency. Moss/lichen-coded bio stone. An inverse cold torch. 99 BG silver. EMERALD LINCOLN, GOLDEN CARROT, 200 SALTED MEAT DISKS, 200 POLISHED ROCKS, 82 FIGET SPINNERS!, A FULLY EQUIPPED LICH'S DUNGEON, and a cardboard box (magic black marble).” Invisibility stone, a bundle of drake feathers, quantum locked rock, raw gold. 9 Gold coming from the green goblin empire, 50 mushrooms, 92 secret society emblem. 5 trans enchanted gold coins, 2 skull coin, ancient lost civilization fragment, 5 glistening green metallic coin, 31 writhing bugs of gold, jade coin. Pile of gold coins and gold coin bugs, pile of shines from harpy, dust, quantum glass shards, bag of tooth shaped candy, 6720 candies from the festival, bag of holding money bag, 68 money bags, 500 flat Foxen, double sided dollar coin, 3 floppies, a Brahman horn, a medkit, a few candy bars, and an umbrella, 130 goblins eggs (goblin cooked chicken eggs.), 17 bars of pure gold, 1 crate of guns, temp singularity potion. 762 grasshoppers glow in the dark.Book on the formation patterns of natural portals - @serious-tabaxi. Edward Evandrian’s expired library card. Gems and frenicx mother gem and a junkarian leap amethyst. white mithril sapling. Timeseed)

(Currently holding baby dire bunnies.)

(Jerry’s balance 13 gold, a fancy rock, 1 coin, flower petals (snacks for later), harpy eyes, feathers, vocal cords, and talons)

(Warlocks of Jerry @fungal-boy-witch-yay @ignisuadaroleplay @life-is-okay-rn2 I think that is who it was…)

(Possessions - wealth stone, Antidote stone)

Owner of membership cards

——————————

@the-final-knight-2

@confused-sorcerer

@bi-gender-sorcerer (+ 10% off for employee discount)

@the-mighty-dalob

@detectivewizzard

@goblin-wizard-in-the-making

@serious-tabaxi

@weltreths-wanderings

@ignisuadaroleplay (will)

@shittest-wizard-ever

@wizard-wylin-wylerian

@akronus-and-associates (the primordials)

—————————————

@hallowed-the-silver-gun

@jormungand-seas-champion

@crow-natures-wrath

@antros-ember-of-fear

@akronus-the-redeemed

@clockwork-time-watcher

@aldira-born-anew

——————————

@wizard-ghost

@yeast-wizard

@crickled-thorn-thug

@sorcererest-sorcerer

@damnable-druid (+ 10% off for employee discount)

@informis-the-many-faced

———

Perks

———

5% off all purchases

Special requested items

More favorable bartering

———

#wizardposting #wizard posting #wizard #wizard tumblr #wizard shit #wizard island island

68 notes · View notes

16ciggy · 5 months

Text

types of piercings the jjk characters would get (wlw included, some sex scenes a lil, i kinda got carried away and wrote an entire story for sukuna bc i love him.... mb guys)

reader is in love with piercings btw

[ NOBARA , YUJI , MEGUMI , GOJO , TOJI , GETO AND SUKUNA INCLUDED ]

SATORU GOJO

i think bro wouldn't really wanna 'mess' up anything much and would go for normal ear piercings (if he wanted it) and that's that. "piercings? on my face or body elsewhere??? why would i do that?" he'd say, his face turning sour when being asked if he would pierce his face or body in any way. he doesn't want some metal pierce through his body or face at all, he'd definitely feel grossed out too by knowing something is within his skin and staying in there FOREVER. you both had a conversation about how gojo might enhance his appearance if he were to get piercings and he immediately said 'no'. buuuuttttt that doesn't mean he disregards your passion and love for piercings either, he has come by your shop to watch you pierce your clients or discuss with them on the desired piercings your clients wants. some of them even ended up becoming your friends too–gojo is in awe when he sees on how much of a social butterfly you are, he's proud of your work and he is in love with the way you do things with piercings too. he always asks on how were the piercings that you've done for your clients and you'd always give a full on detail on how it went, sometimes he can't even believe his own ears on what types of piercings you did—let alone, them even existing...

TOJI

hmmmmmm.... eyebrows piercing for SURE. i can imagine it,, he would even like it too. he'd grin at himself as he admire his piercing through those eyebrows of his. he'd probably have a king's crown piercing too (a ring pierced through the head of the dick) and he'll talk so much of it, but why? he just wants to add some extra feeling for you when he fucks you down on that ol'rotting couch of his—you could feel it too and it felt a bit weird at first to experience your boyfriend's ring inside of you but you gradually got over it and agreed that it helped to spice up the sex.

SUGURU GETO

he never really thought too much of having piercings but he wouldn't mind more. one day he decided to get a tongue piercing to reduce the taste of the cursed spirits he swallows because he couldn't falter the taste of them, the tongue piercing did help somewhat but he was also afraid that he might end up swallowing the piercing too—but you reassure him that nothing bad will happen, he smiles and kisses you, "god, your lips are the best to taste after every cursed spirit."

NOBARA

either snake or spider bites tbh (two rings either pierced by the side or opposites by each other on the lips) she says that it makes her look cool and she HATES IT whenever men are like "no one is gonna want you with those piercings.. it makes you less ladylike.", she HATESSSS IT. because, shes's doing it for YOU because you liked them. even though she seems like a heartless jerk, she loves like a golden retriever. you can't count how many times she has done these cute things like building a house for you in minecraft or buying your favourite desserts when you're on your period. "baby, im going for a mission, i'll be back later. love you, my angel." she kisses your forehead so gently before walking out the door and only for her lip piercings to be returned back to you. you were never given a reason on what happened, not even one ounce of word spoken by these random group of sorcerers. one shibuya night turned into a nightmare and you never saw your girlfriend ever again.

YUJI ITADORI

he'd have his tooth pierced with your initial on it and he lets everyone know it by flashing a big smile almost all the time. you warn him of smile lines and he'd simply just grin at you and laugh, "at least these smile lines were mostly by you!", you ruffle his hair as he laid his head on your shoulders before pulling your waist in closer to his body. he was never a big fan of piercings either—until he met you, an individual whom was fond of piercings and he decided to just have your initial pierced right on his tooth; his strongest appearance happens to be his smile too.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

ooooohh..... hot take.. but he'd definitely be a quiet punk when hes not a sorcerer in the day time. he has nipple piercings, ear piercings, eyebrow, lips—you name em. there's no specifics too because he has a LOT of them. he defo paints his nails black too. when you both bumped into eachother in shibuya at night you did not expect to see gojo's son just having those amount of piercings and even hid it perfectly WELL. your hormones were suddenly RAGING when you saw him, you just had to fuck him so badly otherwise you'd go feral. megumi didn't mind tho because he kinda had a major big crush on you and he wasn't worried about his dick but thats when you got even surprised. because.... well... he got piercings on them too, he really did follow his biological dad. "aw, you scared im gonna eat you or sum'thing? cute." he smirks, getting closer to you and your heart racing even more when his cock is just getting nearer to your face—next thing you know, you were getting choked on it with the metal piercings just gauging down your throat as it hit every walls within it. "fuck— never knew you could suck dick—" he grunts, trying to hold in his moans with his hands clutching on to his mouth for dear's life.

SUKUNA RYOMEN

ear piercings + septum piercing. his face is already scary enough and with that nose piercing already adds in a whole'nother fear when people glances or even looks in his direction. "tsk. it's just a nose piercing, why does every human gotta act like a brat?" he sighs. heavily. he's deeply annoyed in how everyone is afraid of him, he's trying to be a bit nicer now because of you. but that isn't anyone's fault to be afraid of the king of curses either. he sits up from his throne and walks down the flight of stairs to look for you. when he spots you cleaning the hallway with a half assed broken broom, he walks towards you quietly and calls out your name loudly which scared you, "(Y/N). My room, now.", you nodded quickly and thought he just needed to relieve himself. when you arrived into his room, you locked the door behind you and got to undressin— "stop that. that's not what i asked you to come here for." he states, clearing out his throat while he prepared what to say next, "Am I terrifying?" he asks. you just stared at him and the corner of your lips started to curl into a smile, then slowly a giggle. "is this why you asked me to come? yes, you are terrifying." you smiled and he grumbled in annoyance. "then??? how am i suppose to become 'gentle'?!" he roars, jolting up from the edge of the bed, "gentle? why do you want to be gentle?" you asked confusingly, staring into his dull eyes until it clicked. you told him a few weeks ago you were into men who were gentle and not rough, was this why his sex style changed too? this is the man who pounded your back everyday of the week until you were crying from pleasure, now he's kissing your neck and gently holding your thighs up as he's thrusting into your pussy until you're soaking wet when you are getting fucked lately. "it's because on what you told me!" he cocks his head in annoyance, his feet slapping the floor constantly while his arms were crossed. you laughed non stop until he felt embarrassed, you touched his arm and he quickly jerked away from it. "don't be like that, you can still look scary but be gentle, my love—", you wheezed, trying to get a hold of your breathing but you just.. couldn't. this shit was too funny. "people looks at me differently with the septum piercing. do i look more scarier with it??" he asks, he looks so serious—you can't- no way, no way in hell he is acting like a kid over what you said. you comforted him in the end after you stopped laughing but he was still mad at your reaction.

80 notes · View notes

writing-yarn-goblin · 5 months

Text

I saw a few months ago someone posted a headcannon about Kid being able to hear metal. And I loved it.

So here is a little something inspired on that.

This was a gift I made to @swampstew but it’s just too funny to not share.

~*~

If there was something Captain Kid was good at, it was guessing who makes that noise.

There were days where he could be the first one up and locked himself in his workshop where he propped himself up in his work bench and just plowed in a few hours cutting, grinding or making things that he wanted or got commissioned to do so.

His hobby as of late was making as less noise as he possibly could and just feel/hear the metal in people’s bodies.

A tooth with a crown? sounds like a wet coin to him. Someone is trying to put on an earring? He heard it- loud and clear. Assembling and disassembling a gun? He thought the person was VERY slow at it.

One particular morning, he was just setting up to work on making drafts for a custom gun and that’s when he heard a faint buzz deep within his ship. More like he could hear something vibrating frenetically.

He didn’t anything in the ship that buzzed.

He ignored it and kept to his work.

But there it was an again.

The soft buzzing was now a little more erratic and he got curious.

What could be in the ship that made that noise?

He tucked it away and when he knew Killer was in the kitchen: he went there to demand breakfast from the blonde first-mate.

A few days later the buzzing was on full blast. He heard it cling against other metal parts and the buzzing pattern changed.

From a nice soft buzz to a loud buzz buzz buuuuuuuuzz buzz buzz buuuuuuuuuuzz. He connected one thing with the other and smirked to himself.

“Must be one hell of a morning.” He mumbled, sipping from a mug of coffee as he just relaxed for a moment. The piercings he was hearing were rattling faster than usual and the intermittent buzzing changed to a long aggressive buzz.

“Shit, I gotta know who’s doing that.”

And check he did. He was a walking metal detector and he wanted to know who was buzzing their bean so early in the morning.

A few days of searching down and he found them. He didn’t have to look for too long on his 3rd day quest since the culprit was currently in a room, using said object, early in the morning.

To his surprise- it was the bathroom.

The women’s showers. He was glad that it was 5 in the morning, any other woman would’ve flipped.

Once inside, he tiptoed his giant self. Maneuvering his frame through the dainty shower room and enjoyed how nice it smelled in here.

A few more steps forward and there was the culprit-(Y/N).

She was part of the night crew and he seemed to be catching her in her private time…shaving with an electric shaver.

When she turned around, she wanted to scream.

There she saw her Captain, Eustass Kid, looking at the wall in order to give her privacy.

“C-Captain!?”

“(L/N)…it’s not what you think.”

“I should hope so! You have a minute to get out of the bathroom before I scream for Heat.”

Uh-oh.

If she did that, captain or not, he’d be in one hell of a pickle. Heat didn’t take these invasions of privacy lightly.

“Got it. My Workspace. When you’re done.”

Never had she seen a man as big and intimidating to run and scramble fast out of the bathroom.

It didn’t take long for (Y/N) to appear with her battery powered shaver and reproducing the sounds that Kid had been hearing.

After a few apologies in the style of Eustass Kid, she scampered off to her quarters. Once inside, she sighed to herself and quietly checked her things, just to find a long, silver bullet…that went buzz when you twist the bottom.

She’d have to start being more careful.

Unless her captain wants to give her a helping hand. She won’t say no to that.

For now, let him be gloriously confused.

The end

#one piece #reader insert #x reader #i am unwell #eustasscaptainkid #fem reader #funny #headcannons #kid pirates #eustass kid #short and sweet #drabble

59 notes · View notes

drgarg-dental-clinic-delhi · 7 months

Text

The Lowest Metal Ceramic Teeth Cap Price

A tooth cap placed to cover the weak tooth or severely discolored teeth restores its shape, size, and strength. Dr. Garg’s Multispeciality Dental Center in Delhi offers the lowest prices of metal-ceramic teeth caps with the surety of a world-class dental treatment facility.

#metal ceramic teeth cap price #metal ceramic crown #metal ceramic tooth cap #metal tooth cap #ceramic cap for teeth

0 notes

shenu249 · 7 months

Text

Achieve Dental Excellence with Metal Ceramic Crowns at Dr. Garg's Multispeciality Dental Center in Delhi

Among the various options, metal ceramic crowns stand out for their durability, strength, and natural appearance.

#metal ceramic crowns #metal occlusal crowns #metal-ceramic caps #metal ceramic tooth caps #ceramic metal teeth #ceramic with metal crowns

0 notes

pumpkaaboo · 10 months

Text

fuck it. massive pile of byrgenwerth headcanons

Willem was a decorated and well-established scholar from a wealthy family. When he decided to depart his previous university and establish a new one near some recently-rediscovered historical sites, no one really thought twice, but very few followed him. Not many wanted to brave the bitter winters of the mountainlands (and, though no one would admit it, the rumors of a blood-drinking aristocracy and immortal monarch certainly played a part in many a scholar's decision). That was alright, to him. His ideas attracted company.

Laurence was one of Willem's students, and decided to put his doctorate on hold in order to follow his favorite professor to the newly-established university. He admired Willem's boldness and willingness to break new ground, to challenge assumptions about what was impossible. Over time, he grew disillusioned as Willem began urging caution towards the findings from the labyrinths, eventually leading to the Byrgenwerth schism. By the time he would have realized his mistake, he was too far gone to understand what was happening to him.

Gehrman was initially a simple mercenary hired to escort scholars through the tombs. However, the bond he fostered with Laurence drove him to catch up with the rest of the students and participate directly in their research. Eventually, he became something of a gold standard for tomb prospectors, and only those willing to follow in his footsteps were permitted access to the deeper layers of the labyrinths. He left with Laurence, not because he agreed with the newly-crowned Vicar's ideas, but because Laurence was the only person he had ever really been honing himself into a weapon for.

Rom was an orphaned scholar from south of the mountainlands who drew attention by being one of the only noncombatant scholars to accompany the prospectors to the deeper layers of the tombs, and she was the one who first Made Contact with lonely Ebrietas. And the left-behind Daughter of the Cosmos adored her. At first regarded as a charming little sister figure by most of the other scholars, resentment towards her began to grow once the realization that she was outpacing her peers became apparent. Rom was aware that she suddenly no longer felt welcome among her classmates, and began spending more and more time with her surrogate mother. The closer she grew to the stars, the more distanced she grew from her peers, the less able and willing to share her findings with them she became. Until one day, she was no longer human at all. The knowledge of how to contact Ebrietas died with her, not to be rediscovered until the Choir found the Isz chalice.

Maria, though technically a relative of the Queen Undying, was so distant as to be for all intents and purposes a member of the servant class. She took up the role of common knight just as her mother, and her mother's mother, and her mother's mother's mother had before her. What was not common was the circumstances behind her knighting; on her own, she slew the great, winged, many-clawed thing that had been her own mother using nothing but the blinding glint off a hand mirror and a sharp-toothed metal comb. Such a prestigious feat was almost enough to overcome the dishonor of a family member losing themself to the sanguine plague, and she received her title when she was barely old enough to lift a sword. In fact, Annalise herself was considering and subtly training Maria for the role of her own personal knight, though Maria left before she could make any such announcement. In Byrgenwerth, she saw the potential for growth instead of stagnation; for the creation of a new future instead of endless nostalgia for an increasingly clouded past. Not trusting the ideals she was taught by an aristocracy that made blood magic into an art, told her that her grief over her mother should instead be shame, and maintained feudal rule for centuries, she essentially outsourced her morality to her fellow scholar-prospectors. This would turn out to be a mistake, though she wouldn't allow herself to realize that until years after the fact. The hamlet, as it was happening, was merely the first crack in the facade to her. But before that, she was Gehrman's apprentice, and brought with her the techniques and traditions of Cainhurst's knights. She was responsible for Yharnam's hunters becoming descendants in spirit of the knights, though few bothered to learn enough about Cainhurst to draw the parallel. Gehrman ended up learning almost as much from her as she did from him.

(Cainhurst's cultural views on gender and sexuality are very different from those of most of the rest of the world, as implied by the knight's sets, Maria's hunter gear being clearly based on the masculine version of the knight's set, and Annalise's whole... everything. Maria probably had to be taught what the cisheteropatriarchy is and how she'd be expected to act by Rom. Her response was likely something along the lines of "That's so stupid and just makes everyone's lives worse, why do people agree to participate in it???" Rom did not have an answer for her.)

Logarius was a descendant of the knights who fought against the faction that would eventually become Cainhurst in the great Pthumerian civil war. Over time, a political conflict had been mythologized into a legendary battle between purity and corruption, not helped by Cainhurst's general isolationism. He initially joined the tomb prospectors in the hopes of learning more about the glorious history of his ancestors, and was quickly accepted into the ranks of the scholar-prospectors alongside Gehrman. Naturally, he was none too pleased when Maria showed up and almost immediately earned her place as Gehrman's star pupil. Maria, who had never been very good at reading the emotions of others, was unaware of his resentment towards her until the founding of the Executioners in their modern form. Ludwig, who arrived in Yharnam once the Church was already in full swing, was a descendant of these same knights, but despite Logarius's efforts to recruit him, he was far more willing to let the past stay in the past and focus on the issues of the present.

Micolash was a relative newcomer. He was the archetypal "former child prodigy gets to college and is surrounded by equals or superiors for the first time in their life and immediately has an identity crisis". The fact that said superiors included women was salt in the wound. (Compared to the rest of its contemporary universities, Byrgenwerth was fairly egalitarian in its admissions, but this was still a time period where women were seen as property. That mindset is difficult to shake, and most didn't see any reason to try.) He was determined to find a breakthrough that would outshine everyone else, and surrounded himself with people who never criticized him. Laurence was actually a bit reluctant to let him come along to the nascent Church, and definitely regretted his decision on more than one occasion. Especially after the School of Mensis for all intents and purposes severed itself from the rest of the Church.

(In a modern AU, Micolash would be selling cryptocurrency and Great One NFTs)

Caryll was a bit of an enigma. They never drew close to anyone, throwing themself headfirst into their work and only contacting anyone else to share their notes and results. No one was ever able to figure out whether they were a man or a woman. Maria was the only person unphased by this. Sadly, Caryll's transcription of runes only began to show truly impressive results once Master Willem's mind had already begun to fail, so he was never able to both see what his student had produced and understand what he was looking at. Caryll eventually died of dehydration after multiple feverish days spent working on a single rune, forgetting to tend to their physical needs. Ironically, the rune carved into the desk where their classmates found their body was Lake.

Yurie the Last Scholar was named as such because she was the last person to ever visit Byrgenwerth for the knowledge contained within before Yharnam, and everything around it, fell into ruin, not to be unearthed for centuries. Her mission was twofold: first, she was to comb through the texts of the university for anything new to the Choir. Second, and perhaps more importantly, she was to destroy any record that could be used to harm the church; most notably, this included attendance records which might be cross-referenced to determine which students had left alongside Laurence. She completed the second mission, but not the first. She lost herself in eldritch knowledge, and eventually forgot why she came to Byrgenwerth in the first place, so immersed was she in the thrill of discovery, of ever-expanding insight. Not that there would have been anything for her to return to. Perhaps what happened to her could be considered a mercy. She never had to know.

#bloodborne #byrgenwerth #master willem #laurence the first vicar #gehrman the first hunter #rom the vacuous spider #lady maria of the astral clocktower #martyr logarius #micolash host of the nightmare #runesmith caryll #yurie the last scholar #cloudtalk #and yes in my headcanon the comb maria used to kill her mother is the same one you can find in the old workshop.#anyway these are just my silly little headcanons. very subject to change and i love hearing what other people think

73 notes · View notes