#might actually try to put the leather soles on this time

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Wrong One 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Raymond Smith

Summary: You get caught up in the double lives of your employers.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You hitch up the cloth bag on your shoulder, another in your hand, flat soles scuffing over the geometric stonework of the walkway. You take the single step up and pass between the perfectly trimmed hedges. You press your phone between cheek and shoulder as you key in the code to the punch pad with definitive beeps.

"Yes, Mrs. Malfort would like the delivery tomorrow morning," you confirm, "yes, please... mhmm."

You push inside and set the bag in your hand on the side table. You slip the other down your arm and put it with the other. You rest your phone between them, gripping the edge as you lift a foot to unlace your shoe.

You look up as you sense movement in the mirror mounted above the table and gasp. Suddenly, you're taken off your feet as a man in a mask clamps his gloved hand over your mouth. You squeak into the leather paw and kick you as you grasp his wrist. What the hell is going on?

The man grunts as you wriggle against him, his other arm hooking around your middle. Another man appears from the next doorway and grabs your legs. Your panic surges as you claw and writhe. You don't understand what's going on.

"Christ," the one at your back growls through his throat, "this one's fiesty."

"Stop fucking around," the other deliberately lowers his voice an octave.

"Tell me to stop, eh?" The first man brings his thick arm around your neck, flexing against your throat until you're breathless.

"Now, sweetheart, you just be still and close your eyes," the other purrs, "I'm sure ya do it all the time for yer old man."

Your eyes round and you whimper, tugging at the forearm beneath your chin. Your eyes fill with tears as adrenaline floods your veins. You don't understand. You just went to get groceries.

You squeak as a prick jabs through your jeans. You spasm, frantically trying to free yourself as an acidic heat seeps into you. No, no, what did he just do. There's a tink against the floor as the man nearly loses hold of your ankles.

"Fuck!" The one by your head grits out.

"Won't take the long," the other assures, "give her a minute."

You shudder as you feel the heaviness spread through you. Your muscles ache and your vision blurs. This can't be happening. It's not happening!

You blink, black spots speckling before you as you go limp between the man. You hang between them, twitching as you fight the rising tide of darkness. Your eyes roll back and your head pulses violently. You succumb to the void, terrified you might never see light again.

➰️

There's a thick sheet between you and the world. Lights are fuzzy, colours are dull, and all you can hear is your own heartbeat. The steady tempo breaks only as your breaths rise and fall shallowly. Your muscles tingle, toes numb, fingers throbbing.

You groan and try to move, your head lolling as you lack the strength to lift it. You cough through your dry throat, lashes fluttering, blinking through the fog. You manage to open them fully, staring at your own lap.

A tight restraint bites into your wrists and each ankle. You slump in the chair, arms drawn behind you. Your chest racks as you suck down air and try to find some semblance of strength.

You wince as something clicks. You shiver as the cool air seeps through your cotton polo, raising bumps on your exposed arms. A door swings open with the soft whisper of hinges and measured footsteps approach.

A hand reaches to lift your chin and your head wobbles as you look up at a masked figure. The scene crashes into you like a wave. If you weren't tied to a chair, it would knock you on your ass.

Through the slits of the dark mask, blue eyes gleam and the man leans in. He has broad shoulders and smells of lavender and sandalwood. He searches your face as you try to do the same to him, finding only the ribbed black fabric over obscured features.

"Shit," he whispers as he lets you go. Your head droops back down and he backs up hurriedly, "oi, morons."

The door slams blocking out his holler and you moan. Everything hurts. The world is like an echo of itself. Distant and bleary.

Silence. It's only you and the dark room, lit by a single lamp that casts shadows over covered furniture. White sheets over lumpy shapes that could be sofas, chairs, and tables. The walls are laid with antiquated wallpaper and dark walnut siding. In another lifetime, this room was cozy and welcoming.

The door opens again, jarring you from your dazed wanderings. You look up, getting your head a little higher than before. Three men in masks near and stop before you.

"Are you sure it's the wrong one, boss?" The man, the tallest of the bunch, on the right asks.

"I'm fucking sure," the center one retorts, "Did you even look at her?"

"Well, she walked in the front door so--"

"So you assumed?" The middle one snarls, "what the fuck am I supposed to do with..." he waves his hands towards you. He huffs and steps closer, bending to look you in the eye, "who the fuck are ya?"

You lift your head a little higher and quiver, reciting your name clumsily.

"And why the fuck are you strolling around the Malforts'?" He sneers.

"I..." you murmur and flick your lashes up, "I'm the maid."

He stands straight and spins, throwing up his hands, "the fucking maid!" He smacks the men as he passes between them and storms out.

The men look over at each other through the slits of their masks.

"So what d'ya think we do with her?" The left one asks.

"Good question..." the other sucks his teeth, "s'pose we let him cool down and ask.”

[hiskillingjar]

Petplay (Strade/MC)

i feel like i haven’t done as many strade prompts this year. let it be known i am fucking HORNYYYYY!!!!! I WONT HIM SO BAD HE MAKES ME CRAZYYYYY!!!! :3

woof woof, give me headpats and lots of likes and comments in my bowl please! (sorry)

day 17: petplay second person.

"Hey, buddy! How's it going?"

You raised your head hesitantly at the sound of Strade's voice from the top of the stairs, each of his steps heavy on the wooden floorboards as he descended into your makeshift prison.

The thick soles of his leather boots only enhanced his intimidating stature above you, especially when you were restricted to your hands and knees, your sliced tendon hidden beneath a thick ankle cuff chained to the wall, and your hands and knees wrapped in duct tape so you couldn't move them properly or put up a fight.

He had reduced you down to an animal with barely any effort. It might have said something about him, but it certainly said a lot about you.

He laughed heartily, good natured and jovial, at the pitiful sight of you, amused by your dire condition as he reached the bottom of the stairs and paced in front of you, solid steps making you shiver all the more as he placed a hand on your head and ruffled your hair.

"Someone doesn't look too happy this morning, do they?" He crooned, scratching your head like he was petting a dog (though his dirty nails only irritated your skin further). "What’s the matter, hund, are you hungry or something?"

You were going to mumble a non-answer (your capacity for speech impeded by a deep gash through your tongue), but his question was answered, quickly, by a loud grumble from your stomach. 

The comedic timing might have been perfect had it not been so utterly mortifying. 

He laughed again at the timing and comedic irony, his eyes creasing handsomely and his wet smile infectious (though you had been thoroughly cured of that particular infection), clearly finding the whole thing hysterical as he ruffled your hair once more, hard enough to knock your head side to side, your brain rattling in your skull.

"Aww, looks like someone is hungry!" He said in a patronising tone, before walking over to the cupboards and browsing through them. "Well, it’s lucky for you that I'm in a pretty generous mood today, ja?"

You watched him carefully, tilting your head (like the animal you were) as he rooted through the cupboards, shifting aside torture porn supplies and camera equipment for whatever poor bastard he next had in here, before producing a silver dog bowl and placing it on the counter.

That was to be expected, even if it was utterly humiliating.

He then produced an actual can of dog food (where could he have possibly gotten that?), to your immediate horror, and pulled the tap open, shaking the brown slop into the bowl with a cheerful hum.

You stared at him with a disgusted expression as he paced back over and took a knee in front of you, placing the bowl of dog food on the ground. You shook your head that no, you weren't going to eat this, he couldn't expect you to, you must have been allowed to have a modicum of self respect, surely?

Surely not.

"Whaaat? I'm being nice and feeding my dog and this is the thanks I get?" He pouted, feigning a saddened expression as he placed a hand on his heart, as if genuinely hurt by your refusal to play along with him.

That hurt didn’t last too long, though, before he suddenly placed his hand back on the top of your head and roughly pushed it into your hair, curling his fingers into a tight first and pushing your face forward, dangerously close to the ground (to the bowl).

"Don't you wanna eat? It's good for you, I promise!"

"NGH-!"

You grit your teeth and squeezed your eyes shut, reaching back and clawing (pawing) at his fist with your taped up hands, trying, desperately hard, to fight him off before he pushed your face into the congeled mess of dog food.

"Come on now,” He murmured with a dangerously amused edge to his low voice, as he finally won over you, forcing your head down completely into the muck of a meal. “Be good.”

Jellied gravy (if you could even call it that), grainy chunks of meat and pureed vegatables smeared against your skin, to your visceral disgust, as he kept smushing your face down into the bottom of the dog bowl, and every part of your body just ached with the shame of letting him do it, too weak and helpless to fight back against him in any significant way. 

All the while, Strade just curled his fingers tighter into your hair and laughed, rubbing the small of your back with his other hand, like he was trying to comfort you.

Some fucking comfort. 

"Cmon, just give it a taste, puppy," He ordered light heartedly, in his normal jovial tone. “I'm sure you'll love it, if you try!”

"Mm-mmm!" You protested with another shake of your head, pressing your lips into a tight line so you wouldn’t get even close to tasting the disgusting slop.

"Do I really have to make you eat? What, are you backwards or something?” He asked, tilting your head back to meet his gaze, a dark brow raising in a silent question, a smile on his (stupid) (handsome) face, but more sinister looking. “I mean, I was going to be nice, but you're really testing my patience, puppy..."

He let go of your hair suddenly, giving it a slight shove back into the slop (and caking your chin with more of it in the process) and stood back to his feet with a little ‘hup!’, idly pacing back in front of you, his hand dangerously close to his khaki pocket.

“Bad dogs earn discipline…don’t you know that, hund?”

You felt a quickly growing, searing heat against your neck for just a moment, just long enough for you to raise your head our of the much, before recognising it as-

*BZZT*

“Oder bist du zu dumm, ja?”

You yelped like a dying animal as your collar jolted awake with a painful electric shock, sending a sharp, agonising jolt of pain straight through your spine and radiating through the rest of your body.

Strade laughed again before he crouched in front of you, taking your messy chin in hand and forcing your head up, so you were making eye contact with him. His smile was still there, like it always was, but his usual friendly (and deeply insidious) tone had changed to a more malicious and sadistic one.

"Still not hungry, puppy?” He asked, tilting his head to the side with a condescending click of his tongue. “You didn't seem to enjoy the little zap you just got...figuring anything out yet?"

"Mm-mm..." You gave your head another little shake, hoping to communicate, wordlessly, that you just weren't that hungry anymore, he didn't need to shock you again, really.

“You never learn, do you?” Strade huffed out a little sigh, shaking his head and feigning disappointment before he stood up straight again, his hands on his hips. "Well, the way I see it, you have two choices here..." 

Taking one of his hands off his hips, he started to count off fingers as he spoke.

"One, you play nice, you be a good dog, and eat your meal. Or two…I shock you again,” He patted his pocket. “But this time, it'll be stronger and last much longer. Choice is yours, puppy."

You frowned and looked back down at the dog bowl, your own pitiful reflection looking back at you in the shiny, metal surface.

God, you hated this fucking collar.

Already feeling the painful burn on your neck start to settle and throb, and...really not wanting a repeat of it (or, god forbid, anything stronger than that), you hesitantly put your head down again and took the first, repulsive bite of food.

It was fucking disgusting.

You could feel your throat contracting, like your body itself was trying to reject what you were putting into it, but you stopped yourself from gagging and took another hesitant bite.

"There we go, ‘atta dog!” He praised in a patronising tone as he watched you force yourself to eat, walking behind you and giving you an idle kick to the tailbone, treating you more and more like an animal as opposed to the person you were. Are. “That's a good puppy. Was that so tough?"

"Heh. There we go, that's a good pet." He leaned and firmly ruffled your hair again, as you continued to force yourself to eat the slop, a mean laugh emitting from his throat as he watched you. "That’s what you really are, you know, that’s what you want to be. A good, obedient dog, aren't you? Always doing what your master tells you, hm? Always doing their best to be good?"

You weren’t a dog.

If you were a dog, you might have had the good sense to cower and hide from someone who was hurting you this much, whimpering and shivering in the corner, as opposed to trotting out on your hands and knees, lest you earn another punishmenet. 

If you were a dog, you might have even been stupid enough to bite the hand that was feeding you, hurting you, making you suffer, dig your teeth in and make him bleed, and feel even a percentage of the pain that he had already inflicted on you. 

You were too stupid to be a dog. 

Too much of a coward to put up any modicum of a fight.

You gagged on the third bite of dog food, unable to swallow it properly, and sloppily spat it back into the bowl in a bubbling mixture of bubbling saliva and “new and improved: real gravy!”

What would a dog care, if the gravy was real or not?

Maybe that was just a clarification for the owners.

Strade didn't seem too sympathetic to whatever you were going through in your head, his smile faltering, just slightly, as he scooted his body in front of you, taking your slack jaw in one hand, a fistful of your hair in the other, and forcing your head up so you were looking directly at him again.

Or you were supposed to be looking at him. 

Your eyes were, instead, fixed ahead on the single lightbulb hanging from the basement ceiling, watching it gently sway, back and forth.

Your tendon started to throb. Would you ever be able to walk again, after this?

Would there even be an “after this”?

"Did you just spit your food out?" He asked curtly.

"Mmf-" You groaned, trying to shake your head, a few tears running down your cheek.

"You really are so fucking ungrateful," He said, the grin on his face contradicting his firm, domineering tone, before he let go of your chin and gave your burning cheek a few, mean slaps, as if trying to smack you to full attention. "I have to do everything myself around here, don't I, pup?"

He then reached down and grabbed a handful of the dog food, clumped together like a ball in his fist, before forcing it against your mouth, covering your jaw with his palm, covering your nose (and stopping your breathing as he did it), and mashing the wet, gelationus mess of meat into your whimpering mouth.

You shrieked, your mangled tongue throbbing from the forceful intrusion, and tried to fight against him again, your taped up hands (mitts, paws) pressing against his chest.

But you were too weak to fight him off, and any attempt to cry or scream just made you take in more of the repulsive "meal" he had prepared for you.

"Wanna get your strength up, dog?" He barked loudly, his grin now manic and excited and his golden eyes sparkling with mirth, as the beginnings of a hard erection rubbed against your thigh, evidently delighted that you still had some fight in you, despite everything.

"Eat up, mutt~”

[beneathashadytree]

BE PATIENT - GOJO SATORU X READER

Warnings : suggestive near the end, Gojo is a needy boyfriend and I will die on this hill, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : kinda spicy fluff

Word count : 0.5K words

Additional notes : JJK Season 2 is the sole reason behind the brainrot I’m having for this man. Blame that for this.

Tip jar if you’d like to buy me a Ko-Fi!

Masterlist

“What if I say please?”

“I’ll still say abso-fucking-lutely not.”

“Not even if I offer to do the dishes tonight?”

They scoffed, making their way to the genkan. “As if I’d accept a deal as terrible as that. You think I’d forget that today’s your turn anyways?”

“Does nothing ever slip past you?” he huffed in mild annoyance, though they knew it was only because of his usual petulance when it came to matters like this. “What if I cook the entire week?”

“Nice try, but I’m not trying to get our house burnt down. Last time you insisted, and the walls—are you staring at my ass, Satoru?” they asked incredulously. To absolutely no one’s surprise, Satoru had indeed completely zeroed in on their backside as they bent over to slip their shoes on.

“Shamelessly too.” He nodded appreciatively, distracted for a few seconds—almost a whole minute, actually—before he went back to the problem at hand while they began to pick up their things from the table by the shoji door. “Alright, what if I get down on my knees and beg?”

They stilled, the jangling of their car keys coming to a halt. A grin was already halfway on their boyfriend’s face, watching their reaction and knowing that he already had them dancing in the palm of his hands now.

“I might consider it,” they coolly responded, not even turning to face him, though if Satoru could tell from their fingers stroking the leather of their wallet, he’d guess they rather liked that idea very much.

He began to get down on his knees right then and there, only for them to quickly put out their hand to stop him. Arching their brow, they asked, “What do you think you’re doing now?”

“Obviously… preparing for some slightly pathetic, slightly amusing begging?”

They laughed at the confused but honest reply, before shaking their head. Warm skin met his lips, as they silenced him with a finger to his. He came to an abrupt halt in his movements, and swallowed thickly.

“I have an entirely different kind of begging in mind.” With every brush of their finger against his plump lower lip, Satoru seemed to fight the urge to lean into their touch and whine for more. His breath caught in his throat, and they only cooed at him. “You wouldn’t have any objections to that, would you, sweetheart?”

Brilliant sky-blue eyes shone now with a different sort of mischief; the kind that came with lots of whispered, filthy promises for the long night ahead of them. So he shook his head, and managed to weakly say, “Nope. None at all.”

“You be good now,” they purred, tapping his soft lips just once more before they straightened up and began to make their way out. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Damn it. Another failed attempt to convince them to just stay and spoil him in bed—and all Satoru had managed to do was get himself helplessly worked up and half-hard by the door.

Taglist: @blondeboyfriend @the-foreigner @thispersoniscrazy

[cruesuffix]

hi

so i made this blog for the sole reason of a silly idea i had, which is:

ranking mötley crüe outfits because we get bored sometimes!!

to start: this photo

let’s start with mick:

- i love this era of mick btw (can be said about every era)

-the pants are cute ngl, like i think he really liked these cause i have a couple more pics of him wearing them. 7/10 (yo wait i’m looking at the pic again, wtf is that white stuff near his dick…i really hope he didn’t rip those jeans…)

- THE SHOES idc what anyone says those shoes are a serve frfr‼️ i don’t think he’s worn these ones a lot (imo he should of these are so cute) 8/10

-the leather jacket is nothing special imo, like very stock standard looking jacket it’s getting a 5/10

-the scarf…i’m beefing. like we could have gotten a nice chest pic right there and the old man is busy trying to be “modest”, SHOW CHEST OLD MAN 2/10

- which brings us to the shirt, very conveniently buttoned the last two buttons but won’t show us chest, like my guy tommy’s right next to you showing off his tits and here you are- you know what the shirt is still nice so i’ll give it a 6.5/10

mick altogether has a score of: 8/10

next up is tommy:

- ok i can’t exactly see his pants, but i’m pretty sure his has tassels on them, and i’m a sucker for tassels, so that’s an 8/10

- i can’t see the belt he has on so it’s getting a 3/10 sorry tommy nobody can see that

- the shirt (practically half off anyways) will get a 7/10 because you’re not a coward and will show us chest for free (unlike some people >:/)

- once again the leather jacket is the least important part of this outfit it’s getting a 3.5/10 (still more important than that nonexistent belt though)

-the earrings are a plus though, it will get a 6.6/10 they’re helping him serve (not like he needs the help)

so tommy’s outfit will give him: 7.4/10

now onto vince:

- even though we can’t really see the pants, the small part of his foot the camera captured tells us he’s also wearing leather pants…nothing special so 5/10

-he’s actually wearing sneakers, which he’s worn since like probably ‘82 or something like that, which i find funny compared to some of the things he’s worn…i’ll give that a 6/10 for the humour value

- of course, he’s only wearing a leather jacket but i’ll give him a 7/10 for the audacity…we need to start taking notes people (*cough mick *cough)

- the gloves are a bonus actually like that’s kind of a serve ngl 8/10

so vince’s score will be: 7.9/10

now onto our last subject, nikki:

- first thing you lock onto in this photo is nikki’s jacket. that is a great damn jacket my god. putting nikki in my rob list as we speak actually. i will be giving the jacket a 9/10

- the shirt is ruffled (i’m pretty sure the ruffles aren’t apart of the jacket but i wouldn’t be surprised) i actually like that kind of style…secret time: i loved nikki’s phase where he dressed like a gay pirate that only exclusively listened to queen. so that being said, the shirt gets a 8/10

-the pants are obviously leather and we know how i feel about leather pants…it’s getting a 5/10.

- the shades are actually really nice, i love circle frames you can pry that shit outta my cold dead hands- anyways those get a 7.5/10

- the bass will be counted as a part of the outfit…love it, can’t go wrong with black, especially if it fits the outfit 9/10

to complete the set, nikki gets a 8.2/10 (sorry mick this outfit just eats)

this was so much fun to do, i might do more (if that’s what you guys would like too) anyways that’s been the first instalment of “ranking the crüe fits” with your host lily!

[pencilofawesomeness]

Thought of the day

Erza, Natsu, and Gray had not fucking clue what moisturizer was, and were crusty. Until they met Lucy.

Have a nice day.

You're very based for this anon. I think I can take it a step farther, hold on--

Natsu has perpetually dry skin, but not to the point of being crusty or ashy. It's just like leather, thick and resistant. To fire. To moisture. To anything. Lucy thought it was a terrible case of bad skin care but nothing she throws at him puts a dent in it. It's literally like trying to moisturize a lizard. It is Lucy's personal goal to find a combination of products to break through his hide; meanwhile Natsu has no idea why she is so hellbent on it but she's enthusiastic so he lets her do whatever.

Erza tried to have a routine. Keyword: tried. She over-moisturized and at all of the wrong times, and terribly inconsistently. She would grab products based solely on smell and picture and not pay any attention beyond that. It wasn't until Lucy came along that she learned how to use any of it, and when Lucy managed to find a scrub that softened Erza's callouses, she was like a child in a candy store at the possibility. Lucy is Erza's beauty-product senpai now and Lucy greatly enjoys it.

Gray, meanwhile, I think actually did know how to moisturize. He's from a cold region, and having ice magic only makes it worse. Ur might have made them run around in the snow shirtless as kids, but she was still a mom and she made sure both Gray and Lyon knew how to take care of themselves. He never did anything fancy with it though, but he and Lucy unexpectedly bond over it while the team was out on a job, so Lucy foists her favorites on him later and he takes to that instead.

[catchyhuh]

What sort of hobbies or interests do you imagine the Gang having (outside thievery or arresting said thieves)? And do they influence the way they go about their usual antics, or are they mostly Unrelated to everything else in their lives? :0c

oohhooohoho this is a good one because i have a small handful of actual canonical hobbies/interests that come up occasionally and then i have the ones that solely exist in my mind palace. at least until tms decides to let a random little shrimp from america take the reins on their most longrunning successful franchise anyway,

lupin:

i can’t remember if i mentioned lupin loves puzzles. wait yes i did in the video game list SORRY I’M ALREADY HAVING TROUBLE REMEMBERING WHAT I HAVE AND HAVEN’T GONE OFF ABOUT but yes in canon lupin LOVES puzzles. less like, jigsaw puzzles, more like shapey puzzles. but hell man if you can get him to sit still long enough he might like a jigsaw one just to pass the time

i think he likes cooking. him, jigen and goemon all seem to really Get it. so count this under all of them, they just love yummy food and occasionally the process of making it too

he likes to draw :) somebody has to be behind all the slightly different variants of his little mascot guy. SOMEBODY has to redraw bank floor plans so they can plan out each tiny step of the heist. somebody has to scribble over his own wanted posters to put funny little devil horns on the image CMON now!!

jigen:

only jigen could be in a fucking arcade theater complex and pull out a fucking crossword puzzle. why is this dude honestly trying to speedrun being a grouchy old man before he even turns 40. i mean no hate, no hate to crossword puzzles, they are cool but i’m more of a wordsearch guy. BUT THERE’S OTHER STUFF TO DO JIGEN!! at least he’s not going for sudoku though

very random but i think he might like sewing in a passive sense. with how particular he is about his hat and really ANY clothes on his person, he probably just picked up a needle one day to fix a tear and then was like Huh. this isn't too bad actually. kinda repetitive and calming. and then the others found out and tried to get him to fix all their stuff too SO HALF PLEASANT AND HALF NOT SO PLEASANT

fujiko:

you may think i’m insane but fujiko must genuinely have some sort of fondness for computers and technology. more than she lets on at least, because. how DO you know how to fly every type of aircraft. how DO you know how to crack into almost any computer firewall? how do you know how to isolate a computer virus as it’s ALREADY corrupted HALF OF THE SYSTEM?? this goes beyond job necessity to me she must really have some hidden underlying passion for this stuff

i think it’d be cute if she took up some kinda journaling. i mean god knows she’s not writing about her FEELINGS in that little leather notebook, and she doesn’t really have the time to commit to like, scrapbook shit (even if she had the time, she’s not sentimental like that) but something simple like “this is a list of m&m variants in order of how disgusting to not disgusting they taste to me <3” with little candy stickers and gel pen hearts drawn in. the next page has a bloodstain on it and the only thing written is “dw about that lol”

goemon:

okay i KNOW i’ve pushed the Arts Enjoyer goe agenda before but i recently saw that part 3 production art again of him chilling with the pottery wheel so i must state, once again, goemon LOVES sculpting shit in all forms. chip away at some rock, throw zantetsuken at a block of wood, actually invest in some clay for fucking once, whatever he uses, he’ll make something pretty good. and even if it wasn’t good it’s still a fun hobby for him. keeps his hands loose but precise

oh my god you know what he would love. dominoes. you know when people make those like crazy long domino strings that form a pattern when they’ve all fallen. if anybody here could have the precision and strangely placed patience to do shit like that it’s definitely this guy

zenigata:

going through this list easily and eagerly typing up little funfacts about things i do know they like outside of their. “jobs” and then slowly realizing as i get to zenigata that i... cannot think of anything he. uh. does for fun. damn. he DOES talk about movies a lil bit from time to time, and knowing his mixture of a freakish eye for detail and also missing the most obvious things ever i bet hearing him talk about a movie is twice as fun as actually watching it. i would pay HUNDREDS to hear him try to explain what he thinks of space odyssey to me

it would be-- i have no reasoning for this but it would be so cute and hilarious if he did like. tiny magic tricks. you know? like card appearing out of thin air, coin behind your ear type shit. tiny stuff he figured out on his brief off time. we know lupin can do little stuff like that too but it'd just be hilarious if zenigata, completely unawarely and unintentionally for once, ended up being better than him at some inconsequential shit like making a pair of keys disappear

and i guess in light of recent discoveries they all like golf. apparently. well. no one is perfect

[jazminrhode1]

Chapter 10: Get Ready

Basgiath’s dangers aren’t confined to training fields. The doors have ears and the walls have eyes–sleep with a knife closeby.

Excerpt of recovered correspondence of Lieutenant Xaden Riorson to Thana Valaren.

~

With so many fallen, the first-years had been moved out of the dormitories and into their own rooms. The solitude was strange, unsettling even, and Thana welcomes the company.

Liam was sprawled across her bed, his legs dangling off the edge as he animatedly recounted his night with his latest fling, describing their encounter in far too much detail. Thana was only half-listening, her focus more on the lines forming under her hand as she drew absentmindedly in her notebook.

"…and then, well, things got fucking good,” he was saying with a smug grin, clearly enjoying himself. Thana smirked, pausing her sketch.

“By the way, thank you for the sculpture,” she interrupted, her tone soft but genuine. Liam stopped mid-sentence, his smile shifting into something gentler.

“You actually liked it?”

She nodded, her fingers brushing the edge of her notebook. “I loved it.”

He relaxed back onto her bed, hands folded behind his head. “Good. I wasn’t sure, you know… thought maybe... I don’t know what I thought.”

She chuckled softly, her mind drifting back to the path and the sight of the Red dragon. “I saw that Red dragon staring you down.”

Liam’s expression grew thoughtful, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Yeah… me too. I don’t know, Thana. Maybe that’s my dragon. Or maybe it’s just sizing me up as its next meal.” He laughed, though a hint of seriousness lingered beneath the joke. His gaze settled on her, and he hesitated before asking, “That blue… it’s not the first time it’s attention has been solely on you.”

Thana’s breath hitched as she picked up the dragon Liam sculpted for her, her heart beat a little faster. For the first time, she let her thoughts slip out, her voice barely more than a murmur. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot. I was kind of hoping, you know, until Professor Kaori mentioned that no Blues are left to bond, so I guess it’s just… wishful thinking? I don’t know.”

Liam shifted, his expression hardening, his gaze dropping to the floor as if choosing his words carefully. “What do you know that I don’t?” she asked, sensing he might know more than he was letting on.

He shook his head, hesitating for a long moment before meeting her eyes again. “I worry about you, Thana. More than I can explain.”

She swallowed, the words settling heavily between them. Not wanting to linger on the uncertainty, she rose, pulling on her training leathers. “I’ll see you later,” she said, reaching over to squeeze his hand before leaving the room.

As she headed down the corridor toward the gym, her mind wandered. She passed Violet and her friends on the way, each one clad in pristine uniforms. Thana’s fingers itched at the dagger sheathed at her hip, entertaining a dangerous thought. Maybe a dragon will do me the favor of torching her at Threshing. But Xaden’s voice echoed in her mind, reminding her of his request to stay away, and she forced herself to let it go.

When she entered the gym, she stopped short. Instead of Garrick, Xaden stood in the middle on a training mat, arms crossed, watching her approach with that same unreadable expression.

“Garrick won’t be able to train you today,” he said, voice low and clipped. “I’m stepping in.” He’s probably too busy fucking Imogen.

She swallowed hard, trying not to let her surprise show as she took her place, stretching and preparing herself for whatever he had planned. Xaden’s presence was as imposing as ever, and his gaze held a strange mixture of distance and intensity. The usual warmth she felt with Garrick was absent; instead, the air between them felt charged, taut with a tension she couldn’t quite place.

For the next hour, Xaden put her through her paces, his instructions curt, his focus unrelenting. There was no room for mistakes; each misstep was met with a critical eye, each stumble corrected with almost mechanical precision. 

“Thana,” he finally broke the silence, his voice softer, yet weighted. She stilled, expecting him critisize her lack of progress though she had been working her ass off for weeks.

“That scarred dragon… when it looked at you,” he hesitated, his gaze darkening, “I was terrified. That dragon’s behavior—it’s… erratic, unpredictable. It intimidated the Greens, even Sgaeyl.”

Her heart skipped a beat at the mention of Sgaeyl, the dragon Xaden had bonded with. “Sgaeyl?” she asked, the revelation sending a shiver down her spine.

He nodded, almost reluctantly. For a moment, his expression softened, a flicker of something vulnerable flashing across his face before his defenses returned. “Dragons usually follow patterns, signals that might not make sense to us but, they make sense to eachother… but that one doesn’t. Even Sgaeyl struggles to understand its thoughts. It’s… unlike any other.”

He looked away, as though battling with himself over what to say next. It was like he was on the verge of telling her something important, something deeply personal. But instead, he simply said, “Be careful, Thana. Threshing is dangerous. Stay vigilant, know what you’re dealing with, and remember—most dragons will let you pass if they don’t want to bond. But if one shows interest, trust your instincts.”

She swallowed, her voice barely a whisper. “And Sgaeyl? How did she choose you?”

Xaden’s gaze darkened, a shadow crossing his face. “She was bonded to my great-grandfather, but he… he didn’t make it through the quadrant. Sgaeyl chose me because of my scars. They represented… something she understood.”

Thana’s heart twisted at his words, a pang of empathy washing over her. “I’m scared,” she admitted, her voice barely more than a whisper. “What if no dragon chooses me?”

A faint, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You won’t need to worry about that.” The way he said it made her stomach twist. There was something he wasn’t telling her—something he knew that she didn’t.

Later that night, sleep evaded her. Her mind kept drifting to Threshing, the dangers she would face, the dragons that could choose her… or choose to burn her alive. Quietly, she jimmied open her window and climbed out, scaling the wall to the roof, where the view of the grounds stretched out beneath her. The quiet night air settled around her as she stared out, letting her thoughts drift to her father.

“Dad,” she murmured, her voice barely audible as a tear slipped down her cheek, “if you’re out there… if you can hear me, what do I do? What would you do?” She looked up at the stars, searching for some hint, some answer in the silence. Her father’s dragon, the eldest of the Blues, had died with him during the Rebellion. She’d wanted a Blue to feel closer to him, to honor his legacy.

A faint light flickered below her, drawing her attention back to her room. The window had been left open, and someone was in there, she could see the shadows shifting in the dim light. She held her breath, waiting, until the figure finally left, leaving the room empty once more.

Climbing down, she slipped back through the window, her footsteps soft on the floor. Her eyes fell on her desk, where a note lay, the ink still fresh.

“Stay vigilant. Your father would be proud.”

Her breath caught in her throat, her fingers trembling as she lifted the note. The message lingered in her mind, like an echo of her father’s presence, urging her forward. And as she lay down, the weight of his legacy settled over her, a reminder of the fire within her she hadn’t yet unleashed.

[theoriginaltortuga]

Thoughts and opinions on Connor and Devon through the it lives series 

warning: long post, very rambly, and spoilers abound

So this might go in headcanon territory but ill try to keep it general for this post

ILITW:

I’ll admit connor was like the fourth LI i romanced after i started playing it lives and even then it was only because i had a specific playthrough i wanted. I don’t know how other people do it, but i changed my MCs personalities and appearances based on what i wanted their ending and final nerve score to be. So Devon Hernandez, my sole survivor, needed to be kind of a prick, or at least have severe foot in mouth syndrome, while maintaining the highest nerve he could and dating Connor was the best for that

But alas I fell hard for this character i previously skipped a lot of dialogue for. Connor is a wannabe bad boy in the best possible way, he’s got the leather jacket, the cool car, and the fighting skills, all while being “forbidden” by being Stacy’s brother. (won’t lie i was expecting a slight conflict from that even if it was just in flavor text, but im not mad that she was cool with it)  

the banter between him and Devon really worked for me, and i loved how even outside of the romance specific scenes there was still acknowledgment of the relationship (whether thats a failing on pb’s part or done because he’s technically on screen less than the others im not sure) 

More on personality, Connor is interested but not pushy, acts like he’s “not too good” while being too good at all times, a caring person and a fun one, an affectionate boyfriend and doesn’t put up with people’s shit. I realized i actually cared about him the second he offered to take Devon to a diner with burgers the size of their face

Main Route (connor and MC live, all their friends are dead) : 

Jumping through time to ilw and him and Devon are horndogs living together in a cabin and scarring their friends with their sex life, which was a direction i wasn’t expecting but one i loved anyway. Again all the small acknowledgements of their relationship killed me and pet names are always a win. Connor evolved from background character and “The Love Interest” to a semi-main badass. 

One thing i loved about it lives within is that all the characters from the previous books felt like themselves in a way that’s hard to explain but basically you just bought that these were the exact same characters and the fact that it was a completely different writer never crossed my mind

There is a kind of maturity in Connor and Devon’s relationship that is nice to see because they have been together 4 years, while still staying true to the versions of them we first met

This route ended with Connor proposing to Devon and getting them their beautiful house with the porch swing and several dog children and I loved the final moments of happiness in their otherwise kind of heartbreaking story

Good Route (connor and MC live, everyone lived):

Basically the same as above, though I will say I love the idea that the whole memorial Stacy knew exactly what was about to go down and I may or may not nudge aside the idea that Devon let their friendships fall to shit and their all like bridesmaids or groomsmen, its not that them falling apart again is unrealistic or bad, it just makes me kind of sad so I ignore it in my own hc

Bad Route (connor and noah live, everyone else died and then so does Connor):

The one i just finished playing and all the interactions between Connor and Redfield!MC were so sweet and i loved them but it always held that kind of bittersweet feeling.

I played with Noah also being into Devon which was also painful, but the line “i suspected for a while now” made me laugh because all i can imagine is an internal montage of Noah being annoyed at Connor and Devon’s affection and constantly looking at Devon with heart eyes and Connor just like “wow i should’ve clocked that like last year” 

i have a lot to say on the Devon being comforted scene that i will save for the hc post but the call back to “too good” was *chefs kiss*

And towards the end realization that Connor was a horror, the accidental hope i gave the crew, and then Connor’s horrific (in the best possible way) death was so wonderfully written. You know when you read something so good that you just have to do a couple laps around the room? That was me. 

Rowan flung Connor into the fucking ceiling and the description of his blood dripping onto them and Devon was just so gnarly. Devon has lost everything, watched most of the people they loved be brutally murdered before their very eyes, and is lashing out while also being sort of aware that its not really Rowans fault which speaks a lot to their character but it hurt so freakin much

and don’t even get me started on the graveyard scene and the parallels with the other Redfield!MC graveyard scene, metal rose and all. I mentioned it before but my Devon in this route is just burnt out on love and friendship and people in a way that i’ll get into more in a hc post but yeah he’s not finding love again and i don’t think he’d ever want to

In conclusion, i love connor and devon together and I thank the og ilitw writers for writing their relationship and the ilw writers for making it even better and tearing my heart apart along with Connor’s and Devon’s in very different ways

[battleangel]

Chew. Harden. Lengthen. Satisfy.

The tagline for Hims literal Hard Mints Chewables in an online ad that auto-played as I scrolled through a wiki article literally nauseated me & makes me fucking sick:

Chew. Harden. Lengthen. Satisfy. With confidence.

Hims now makes and sells chewable hard mints for ED (erectile dysfunction) that come in “discreet” tins.

The ad for the Hims Hard Mints is absolutely sickening & dehumanizing.

I just saw an in-website ad for the Hims Hard Mints that auto played as I was scrolling.

I was actually rereading the script for the demiurge episode from Aeon Flux.

The dystopian society that Aeon Flux presented that I watched for the first time on MTV in 8th grade in 1995 has now become a distressing Orwellian reality.

Aeon Flux was deeply dark, mindfucky & deconstructive and included heavily sexual subplots where the main character, Aeon, clad in a skin-tight leather BDSM get up with an impossibly tiny & concave waist & ginormous boobs actually has sex with someone through a hole in her back.

Pretty dehumanizing & reductive portrayal of sex, right?

Just like the Hims Hard Mint ad.

So, the active ingredient in Cialis & Levitra has now been put into a hard mint chewable in a “discreet” tin.

Just like everything else, absolutely no thoughts to what might be behind the ED — anxiety, stress, mind body disconnect, unprocessed emotions and/or trauma, listlessness, lethargy, numbness, emptiness inside, loneliness, aimlessness, mindlessness, constant distraction, being overworked by design in our capitalist corporatist economic system, toxins chemicals & additives in foods & beverages, depressive feelings, malaise, existentialist despair, feelings of self-doubt, abandonment, isolation, inadequacy, constant comparisons, constant competition, keeping up with the joneses, overemphasis on the mechanics of sex, reductionism where sex is reduced solely to harden fuck ejaculate, lack of esotericism, total disconnect of mind body soul heart constantly caused by capitalism which is endlessly rewarded by disordered inhabitants that are slaves to the corporatist machine, lack of philosophical inquiries, never having a thought, watching pornhub on cell phone since 10 creating toxic harmful unrealistic expectations for sex. . .

Treating men like dehumanized sex robots and machines.

Chew. Harden. Lengthen. Perform. Satisfy. With Confidence.

Disgustingly sickeningly exploitative & reductive.

Reducing sex to nothing but moving body parts.

Why chewable? Why mint flavored?

Why in a tin?

Because then it seems like its not prescription medication - which it is, it has the same active ingredient as Cialis & Levitra - its just, pop an Altoid then go fuck her.

Just as mindless as everything else in our current 3 second attention span society.

Why not try to get to the root of what is causing the ED as 90%+ of physical & mental DIS-eases is literally your body mind being at dis ease and is caused by a mind body imbalance of some sort.

Why not look within instead of looking in a tin?

Why is the answer presented as a chewable Altoid?

Fun. Easy. Minty. Fresh. Discreet.

Why not reflection?

Why not meditation?

Why not examining ones own thought, minds, feelings & emotions?

Why not journalling?

Why not experimenting sexually and seeing if the ED is being caused by lack of interest in current sexual activities?

Why not explore your sexuality and sexual identity and see if boredom or malaise or lack of physical/sexual attraction may be at the root of the ED?

Why must everything be unthinking?

Simple?

Automatic?

Just pop a minty chewable chew.

In a discreet tin. Nobody has to know.

The entire ad focuses on the man satisfying the woman by chewing, hardening, lengthening, satisfying, performing with confidence.

Imagine that that is an ad actually describing a thinking feeling human being.

Its fucking terrifying.

Its nauseatingly reductive.

Its dehumanizing as fuck.

Its reducing men to literally nothing more than their anatomical reproductive organs and functions.

What of love?

What of ecstasy?

What of spark?

What of connection?

What of chemistry?

What of instantaneous chemical reactions?

What of soul connections?

What of soulmates?

What of twinflames?

What of beauty?

What of eroticism?

What of sexual soulmates?

What of sweat-filled intensity?

What of anticipation & build up?

What of longing & desire?

What of fantasy?

What of daydreams?

What of seductive allure?

What of devouring moments?

What of soul orgasms?

What of tantric sex?

What of hands free orgasms?

What of mental g-spots?

What of sexual exploration?

What of kinks & fetishes?

What of sexual preferences?

What of sexual identity & sexual expression?

What of wet dreams?

What of sexual attraction to the self?

What of turn-ons?

What of turn-offs?

What of sexual likes & dislikes?

What of trying different things sexually?

What of mixing things up?

What of roleplaying?

What of sexual imaginings?

What of erotic fiction?

What of homemade porn?

What of boudoir photography?

What of making yourself a sexual object?

What of self-fetishization?

What of lingerie?

What of voyeurism & exhibitionism?

What of sex shows?

What of public sex?

What of sexual personas?

What of sexual muses?

What of sexual adventures & misadventures?

What of orgies and one night stands and random hookups?

What of taking a break from sex?

What of temporary celibacy?

What of too much of a good thing applying to sex?

What of determining preferred frequency of sex?

What of getting to know yourself sexually?

What of societal sexual scripts that demand certain things from men & women?

What of not fitting the societally ascribed sexual scripts for the gender you were assigned at birth?

What of the intersection between your extremely individual & personal gender as everyones gender identity & expression is different & how that intertwines with societal dictates for how men & women are supposed to interact sexually?

What of sexual dogma that demands that the outcome of sex be an orgasm for all genders?

What of non-penetrative sex like oral, manual & intercrural?

What of sex being treated like a hypercapitalist machinistic end game?

What of love & loneliness?

No?

Just, Shut up. Chew. Harden. Lengthen. Perform. Satisfy. With confidence.

[maestro-of-clockwork]

A chill went down Chaos' spine as she peered around the computer room, looking for any signs of her 'muse'. She'd figured that if he was typing up a storm that he'd be here, but she'd been proven wrong...and that made her even more nervous.

Letting out a shaky sigh to release the pressure in her mind, she exited the room and wandered into the den. She didn't know whether to be relieved or petrified to see him sitting in his favorite leather chair. He had a tea set already laid out, complimented with little pastries.

Antonio didn't seem to notice her at first, pinprick eyes scanning the pages of an untitled book. A journal, maybe?

'A book's a book, I guess,' she figured.

Chaos took cautious steps closer to the seat opposite him. She was almost there when he suddenly locked eyes with her, greeting her with a pleasant, professional kind of smile.

"Chaos dear!" came his equally genial greeting. "I'm thrilled that you decided to talk with me."

"Why don't you take a seat and have some tea, hm?" Antonio asked lightly, shutting the book and setting it aside, presumably to show her that the floor was hers.

The thought of his attention being solely on her gave her a horrible pit in her stomach as she sat down...at least the chair was comfy...

"Hey," she spoke, voice unstable and cautious, "is it okay if we skip all that and just talk now...?"

Antonio's voice took on something gentler as he poured her some tea, "Now, I told you that this isn't a confrontation, did I not? You needn't be so on edge..."

When he was finished, he leaned over a little, gingerly handing the cup over for her to take.

"N-no, no thanks," Chaos tried to be polite, at least, "I'm not thirsty, Tony-"

"Oh, please, I insist."

Chaos stared at the cup, trying to work out which would be the right choice to take: refuse it and make him angry? Or accept it and possibly be poisoned?

"Come now, I made one of your favorites! It might make you feel better."

Something about his voice plucked at her heartstrings; it was like he was a sweet old man trying to comfort someone he cared about...

Chaos decided to take it from Antonio, earning a wider, kinder smile from him, "Okay..."

Despite all of her senses screaming at her not to, she bit the bullet and took a drink.

Spiced chai...huh, he really did know her well.

"Is it to your liking~...?" he sweetly asked.

"Yeah, it's great," she admitted, the warmth of the tea actually making her relax a little. "I'm gonna be bummed out if you actually did poison it."

Antonio laughed gently at her remark, "Don't be silly. Poison would only interrupt our conversation, wouldn't it?"

"Heh, yeah, I guess..."

Chaos contemplated the dark liquid again before remembering the gravity of her actions during the magic!anon...she didn't even feel her face fall into regret.

"Now, what's the matter, dear...?"

All the things he'd written out on the asks scrolled through her mind, movie credits replaying the consequences of her mistakes. Chaos slowly put the teacup back onto the tray.

"Antonio, I-...I'm sorry. I thought maybe it was a cool way to explore your character more, and I thought you deserved it for the bad things you do..."

She finally looked up at him, "...but that was awful of me, to write you hurting so, so badly..."

Antonio returned her apology with silence, prompting Chaos to fill in the space.

"I won't do that again, okay? As bad as I hate you sometimes, I don't think you should hurt that way ever again."

Silence fell over the two once more, Chaos growing worried as Antonio's expression seemed unmoving, frozen in a neutral smile. He was disturbingly still until he suddenly spoke up again.

"I think...I will need some time to think about your apology. A few days, perhaps..."

Chaos nodded in understanding, "I get it..."

"Well, um," she rose from the chair, "whatever you choose...tell me, okay?"

Antonio's smile cracked and twisted.

"I never said that you were allowed to leave."

She tried to will herself away, but-

Nᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴᴇᴅ.

Her face went pale.

"Sit, please," he told her.

She bolted away

She ran to

She tri

Sʜᴇ ᴅɪᴅ ᴀs sʜᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴛᴏʟᴅ.

Chaos struggled hard to free herself of the imaginary bonds that glued her to the chair...what was happening?!

"Do you remember when I wrote that I 'guide your hand' when you write me...?"

Her blood froze.

"Well," he paused to take a drink, enjoying this newfound control, "I've found out how to extend it past mere dialogue and actions...I assure you, I'll use it wisely..."

Savoring the look of sheer terror on the woman's face, his smile grew toothier.

"I'll make your stay here agonizing."

[aluckiicoin-a]

Now, that was a rather mild reaction to being stepped on. Most people would be upset – or excited for that matter. He would've thought the other to be part of the former not the later but she took to the provocation unexpectedly well. Likely because it was so obviously meant as such.

“I take care of myself, don't I?”, he would take care of a pet, too, if having one wasn't such a blatant weakness to have. He'd have to get an animal dangerous enough to defend itself but still somehow be obedient and tame enough to bring along to places, maybe cuddle even. Or choose something so insignificant and outlandish that no one would ever think it belongs to him. Rats sounded suddenly even more viable than before. For every other option? He'd likely have to ask a certain colleague of all people and that was a conversation he wasn't ready to have.

His eyes wandered toward the movement, away from the other's gaze to the hand instead. Had the other been so touchy-feely last time to? Might have been solely due to the rope that Aventurine escaped those curious fingers before. Then again, those were really nice shoes. Clean too, given he only ever used them indoors. He had also owned a really nice char before. Figured that it wouldn't stop at claiming dominion over the seat. He'd probably have to be glad that it was just the leather that got all the attention – and that it stayed at that. He could very much life without the sensation of actual touch when he was already this wound up.

His eyes wandered back to the vaguely familiar face, away from the movement of the hand, when another set of words reached him. He answered the stare with his usual branch of nonchalance. The accusation however made him grab his chosen weapon more closely, hiding it a little better when he shifted to lean forward, instead of leaning back like before. “Are you calling me a sadist?”, he'd never hurt an animal unprompted – or unjustified. Well, if one ignored his vast collection of furs and leathers but that was slightly different, wasn't it? People however were a completely different matter, so he wouldn't even be able to refute the idea. He even put his foot down harder than before, still not enough to do harm however. “Animals are a better kind of people.”, they won't lead you on after all. It was also a lot harder to have a conversation – if not outright impossible.

“The last rat walked right through the front door, I've heard.”, Aventurine left it up to interpretation if that only happened because he had never bothered making his home rat safe or if it had been on purpose after all. It might just be a combination of all available options. And besides – if he wasn't getting any straight answers here, so neither would be his guest. “It's also incredible hard to keep out rats.”, the blonde mused, the unarmed hand pointing around his office. “You'd have to do something incredible, gruesomely, cruel to one of them and keep out the corpse for the rest of the mischief to see. Won't see any of those ever again.”, it wouldn't keep out a new mischief – and he would never do anything this cruel to actual rodents. Yet his words sounded like a threat, especially with the way his smile turned colder. The truth was likely hidden somewhere in the official looking papers she had sent flying across the room.

For now Aventurine would just assume that the thief had already figured out what was going to happen – sooner than later. “You should try black hair next time.”, he leaned even closer, the weight on his foot increasing again as result “It should bring out your pretty eyes.”, it would still be a waste if she got caught up in the rather explosive net he had spun over his home.

Vibrant green hues watched with interest. She's not as young as she used to be unfortunately. But with age came wisdom. Well that and the little peacock stuck out like a sore thumb among people. To mistake him for someone else would be foolish. Or you'd have to be a blind person to mistake the Stoneheart for someone else. Regardless, she watches, letting out a little hum as she feels the heel of the boot going down on his knee.

It doesn't feel painful, at least not right now. It was easy to ignore for the time being. He has to continue this charade. “Is that so?” She asks, smiling an obviously fake smile. His comment definitely wasn't something the con man expected. “I didn't take you as the sort to take care of anyone.” A gloved hand comes up to run up the boot that had called his knee home. Even with his gloves on, Koski could tell this was made of some expensive material. Perhaps of some extinct animal that was hard to obtain. Aventurine seemed like the kind of man who would pay to brag about having some bygone era leather.

The hand slowly comes up the boot, tracing the eyelets, the strong lace material, and up towards the cuff. Her eyes remain squarely at the ICP manager as she speaks. “You seem like the kind of guy to kill small animals for fun.” Brughel said with a smile that made you think she was reminiscing about her youth. It didn't match at all. Then again, neither of them did. He was too sweetly nice for this situation, Sampo is as too soft in being here as his female persona.

It suited them just fine though. Her fingers stroked back down to the upper shaft, down to the heel of the boot. “Do you always let rats into your home for entertainment? Or is this something new you started?” The blond's question as to who infiltrated the place was left unanswered. Partly to keep the suspense, partly to annoy him. Mostly because it seemed like the man already had his answer. So why bother wasting his breath on something they both seemed to know? 

This game had evolved from hiding to a game of chicken. Who would be the first one to crack under these faux-pas smiles and attitudes?

[milkweedman]

Sprained one of my fingers during work somehow and was very Doom and Gloom abt it bc if i cant do stuff with my hands right now i'll die. Thankfully, however, the pain is mostly when i try to straighten it and my fingers are curled when i knit so it's not a problem at all

[miekasa]

mie.. i’m going into another eren phase.. so can you pls tell me your fav boyfie eren hcs…

Yeah, why not. I have so many random ones because he is my boyfriend <333 so here you gp

sfw

Eren doesn't actually work out all that often. He’s always been athletic, so his exercise comes in the form of playing sports, but he doesn’t really go to the gym outside of playing/practice.

Loves cake pops, more often than not “treats himself” to one after an exam or assignment, or whenever he feels like it lmfao. He basically eats it all in one bite, keeps the stick in his mouth to fidget with until he finds a trashcan. 

Likes seeing you in his hoodies because, well, it’s his hoodie on you; but mostly because of the size of the actual hood on you. He thinks it’s so funny but also pretty cute how the hood alone swallows you up. 

Grocery shopping with you is one of his favorite activities. He rarely goes by himself—if not with you, then with Mikasa or Armin—and all he really does is follow you around the store and occasionally put some stuff in the cart, but he still loves it. He likes running and then jumping on the cart like it’s a scooter. 

No matter how many makeup tutorials he watches, or how many times he watches you do your own makeup, he doesn’t really understand how it works lmfao. He likes watching it, and he thinks you look pretty if wearing makeup is your thing, but he baffles him how a little tube of concealer brightens your under eye.

Speaking of which, he sits criss cross applesauce either on your bed or on the toilet if you’re in the bathroom, while he watches you do your makeup. Counts the steps in his head, always confuses the contour and bronzer. It’s okay, he’s learning. 

He both likes and dislikes FaceTime. He likes the convenience of it (and will abuse it by calling you even tho you’ve just barely left his house), but he would much rather just go and see you; so he does. Unless there’s something keeping you apart, Eren will make the effort and the trip to go and see you, even if it’s late at night. 

He gets warm very easily, but always has some sort of coat/outerwear on him, even if it’s just a light windbreaker. He usually ends up hanging it over your shoulders or telling you to wear it because you “look cold” when he wants to take it off. 

He walks just like a half step behind you; technically still by your side, but trailing you by the tiniest amount. That way he gets to be with you and watch you, and also steer you away from anything/anyone else he sees ahead while you’re walking. 

If he notices your shoelaces are untied, he gently pokes your shoulder to get you to stop, then bends down and ties them for you. 

His phone case is brown leather, and has your initials engraved at the very bottom in a very tiny, dark green font. 

Likes walking around with you at night so congrats on having your own personal guard dog for Safety lmfaoo. Sometimes you guys don’t even talk; he just wants to hold your hand and wander around, and just be with you for a little bit. 

He is the one putting hair ties on YOUR gear shift and around YOUR wrist. Marking his territory lmfaooo

Learns to like coffee in college, and learns your Starbucks order pretty quickly. He’s got a very small addiction, but he always buys you a cup when he gets his own, so at least it’s beneficial for you. He doesn’t usually have much an extreme sweet tooth, but he takes his coffee with quite a few pumps of syrup and/or sweetener. 

Eren loves hugs, and once he starts getting them, he refuses to go with out them. Back hugs are his favorite, whether it be you hugging him from behind, or him doing it to you; either works for him, both feel like heaven. 

You know when it’s time to head home after a party/hanging with your friends because Eren will drape himself over you and gradually apply more of his body weight the more tired/drunk he gets. Regardless of whether or not he’s sloshed, he’ll still press very light and innocent kisses onto your neck and ears. 

Turns out he really likes getting kisses on his cheeks. It always takes him by surprise; his eyes widen and his eyebrows raise just a bit, but he usually evens out his expression before you pull back, so you don’t see. What you do see is the sorta glazed over, happy look in his eyes, and if you look closely, you might see his pupils dilate, too. 

He actually doesn’t mind reading, he just never thinks to read in his free time. When he does remember, and what he’s reading is interesting to him, he finishes the book pretty quickly—a few days, maybe a week at most—it’s kind of impressive. Then he goes on to not look at another book for a good five months lmfao. 

Asked you what detergent and fabric softener you used on your sheets, then bought the exact same products to do his laundry with. 

He picks you up pretty often. It’s not always tossing you over his shoulder, or carrying you bridal style, but if he needs to get to something behind you in the kitchen he’ll just. Just pick you up, turn, plop you down, get what he needs, pick you up, turn around again, and plop you right back into place. Like a doll. 

Actually very good and very meticulous when it comes to cleaning. Not a single hard water stain in sight on your dishes. Sparkling countertops and tables, your oven has never looked shinier than when he’s done with it. 

Doodles on his notes when he’s bored in class. Doodles on your notes if he’s bored in class and you’re there, too. 

He claims to not get jealous easily, but he definitely does. His methods of dealing with it are either to (a) pout (usually only happens when he gets jealous of someone you’re telling him about), (b) find an excuse to pull you away from this other person, (c) be extremely cold to this other person, (d) pretend to be sick/tired/hungry as an excuse for you to be concerned about him/dote on him in front of this other person (this is his favorite method). 

Will push your phone down/into your face if you’re laying down using it or just scrolling through your feeds. Thinks it’s peak comedy, always runs away with a little shit grin on his mouth. 

He’s always tuned into you, and sometimes physically turned to you, even in a larger conversation with other people around. Finds a way to pull you into the convo if you’ve been on the quieter side, nudges at your side under the table to bother you when you’re distracted, frequently looks at you even if someone else is talking. 

nsfw/suggestive

Eren really likes lazy sex, and it’s arguably one of his favorites; and for someone who’s not a morning person, he sure does like morning sex. He does this thing where he wakes up at like eight in the morning, starts feeling up on you, and eventually very lazily fucks you before you even have the chance to say good morning, then crashes and sleeps for another two hours. Sometimes he doesn’t pull out. 

Always gets hard when you do try on hauls of the new clothes you’ve bought; whether it be via FaceTime or in person. You could be showing him your new sweatpants, and he’ll still find it sexy. 

Can and will find time to grope you whenever possible. Getting water from the kitchen means you’re getting your ass smacked while you open the fridge. Putting on your shoes also means you’re getting your ass smacked when you bend over. Standing around debating on what to wear for the day means he’s coming up behind you to put his hands on your boobs. Doing your skincare routine in the bathroom means he’s got his hands on your hips squeezing at your skin. 

Likes being bitten. Will tell you to bite him; he’ll lean down while he’s fucking you, smile wickedly when you grab and claw at his back, and you’re gasping against his shoulder, “Wanna hurt me? Go ahead, baby, do your worst.” 

He loves making out with you, even if it doesn’t lead to sex; actually, sometimes, he prefers it that way. You make his head spin just by kissing him, and there’s a special kind of bliss of just rutting against each other without fucking that he loves. 

Lovesssss taking mirror selfie’s with you on his lap and your back to the mirror, especially right after sex. Your head resting on his shoulder and he just barely murmurs, “Stay right there, don’t move.” Might start a collection of pics like that.

Tugging on his ear acts as encouragement, but somewhat surprisingly, that sole action doesn’t necessarily turn him on; it doesn’t turn him off, and he likes it, but it’s more... soothing? than sexual to him. What you should do instead is put your hand on the back of his neck/touch the hair near his nape. 

He could have done all the work, but will still wrap you in his arms and kiss your head and tell you how good you are, how good you were to him. He really does think you fucked him 9/10 times and takes pride in it too lmaooo

Holds your jaw open with one hand, presses the index and middle fingers of his other hand against your tongue, and watches your spit pool around him. He exhales slowly at the sight, moving his fingers around to coat them evenly before pulling them out of your mouth and separating them; watches a thin line of spit connect them and groans. 

Holds you jaw a lot, actually: when you’re kissing, when you’re blowing him, when he’s on top and fucking you, when he’s fucking you from behind, he’ll pull you up with one hand, use two fingers and turn your head to the side so he can kiss you. 

It’s him that kinda loses it first most of the time; that gets that fucked out, hazy look in his eyes, that makes everything feel like too much so his head drops to your shoulder and he resorts to biting at your neck to further stimulate you. 

Likes sucking on your tongue when you kiss. Falls in love with you all over again on the spot when you do it back to him. 

You could just barely put your hands on him and Eren will groan, mutter about how you’re so sexy and how badly he wants to fuck you. Could just lay back with your chest heaving from kissing him and he’s got hearts in his eyes and his dick is hard. 

[hotwings0203]

Decided to do a part 2 (due courtesy of @an-ambivalent and @definitetrashlord for motivating me to even continue this series HEHE💖)

Pt. 1

Tw: manipulation, dubcon, language

It isn’t the cum that slides down your legs continuously, nor the black and blue marks that so obviously covers the expanse of your neck at all times, no.

It’s the constant surveillance you’re under, it’s the lack of conversation you get from your comrades, it’s the way you mold and shift for however he wants you to be that solidifies his hold on you.

The attack from three weeks ago feels like yesterday, the way he held your head up by your hair after he was done ruining you and crooned in your ear that you were his now, and you’d be suicidal if you continued to lash out on his godsent decision plays like a broken record in your head.

You can’t look him in the eyes now, only meekly staring at his feet when he orders you to stand in front of him. Sometimes he’ll circle you and invade in your personal space, standing behind you and leaning in close behind your ear, simply inhaling you and saying nothing. Other times when no one’s around he’ll lounge back on the couch with a beer in his hand, spreading his knees wide while he lazily orders you to dance for him, slowly stripping away your self esteem and clothes simultaneously.

He doesn’t seem to outwardly mind the silence that seeps from you anymore, now that he has your body and attention focused solely on him.

Even Tomura has stopped talking to you just for fun. He’ll try and make a snipe at you, fruitlessly expecting your once-usual comebacks, but all you can do is blearily smile at him.

It makes everyone uneasy how quickly you’ve been reduced to nothing.

You couldn’t leave even if you tried to. Your medical skills were too valuable to be rejected, and Dabi’s scrutinizing tabs on you wouldn’t allow for even a foot stepped outside if not for Shigaraki’s missions.

Even your meals are meager at best, mainly consisting of copious amounts of alcohol and shitty ambiguous burnt food that pops up on the counters randomly.

You feel dirty, like a disease-infested rat. No amount is showering from the dingy stalls, no amount of cheap soap bars wittled down on your body erases the feeling of being used.

Dabi has never been in more love than he has now.

He hopes you like the food he makes, secretly placing it on the bar counter seconds before you sit down. Sure, the food might be a little burnt, but it’s still your favorite right?

It doesn’t matter how expensive the shower products are, he thinks they smell nice and that they’d smell even better on you. Shigaraki can fuck off, he’s not spending too much revenue on his girl, it’s the bare minimum he can do to show you how much he appreciates you playing by his rules...even if he can never say it out loud.

And his favorite part at the end of every day is putting his surely-misplaced words of affection into action, where he can scream with his body against yours how long he’s wanted you for, how thankful he is to any deity that exists that you’ve been placed in his care.

Dabi might be in love, but he’s not stupid though.

He sees the way your body becomes more and more deteriorated, notices the small change of you hesitation to answer him, the way you can never truly look at him, how you retreat to his room more and more(your room has just become a guest room now after he burned all your belongings, rendering you completely dependent on him to supply you with scratchy clothes and feminine products, no matter how embarrassing it is for you). It’s so frustrating to him- you’re not actually doing anything wrong, but you’re not doing it right either. How long does he have to keep threatening you for? Why can’t you just be happy with him? At least pretend like he’s not the villain for once.

He just feels so passionately for you, a word he never thought would be used in his vocabulary. It all bottles up, and sometimes he feels like he isn’t expressing his feelings of love, jealousy at you not giving him enough attention at times, concern over your quiet demeanor, and wanting of you enough.

You’ve never been more broken than you are now.

If it wasn’t bad enough that you bend at his every beck and call, he expects you to understand his body language and cravings without him even saying anything, which is more so often than not. He just stares at you for so, so long. You originally tried to get up and leave after he dragged you over to the couch and plopped you down, but immediately stilled after smoke began curling from his wrists.

“What do you want?”

“Nothing.”

You look at him incredulously, but his lids are lowered at you as he smokes a blunt. And so you exhale in annoyance and run a hand through your hair, closing your eyes to avoid looking into his unnerving glacial eyes.

It’s too bad you don’t see the big red hearts in them that break when you turn away from him.

You’re just so pretty, how can you expect him not to stare?

He tries to get you to do weird things too when you guys are alone and he’s not plowing you into the mattress.

Once on a cool winter night a majority of the League was out hunting for recruits. Dabi, you, and Spinner had done your quotas already-or,rather, Dabi had yanked you by your wrist alongside him through the dark alleyways, growling at you to “Keep your mouth shut and let me do the talking. If I see you looking at any one of these trash kindlings I’ll burn the whole alley up and force you to watch”.

And so while the rest of the party was out, Spinner had mumbled something about needing to take a piss with a pointed glare from Dabi and you were left alone again with your...boyfriend?

He sits down on the crumbling leather and gives you a once over, not saying anything.

You fidget in place, thinking he was going to make you give him another slutty show.

Moments pass, and he snaps, “Well?”

“W-well what?”

“Are you just gonna stand there like some braindead bitch? Sit down.” He leers at you.

You drop into the loveseat at the other end, looking down at your lap. You can’t see his expression, but he scoffs in disbelief.

“Are you actually slow? Get the fuck over here, it’s cold as shit.”

And so you scooch over to him regrettably, knees touching with his as you squirm.

He leans forward and turns to face you, reaching out a hand to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. He notices you trembling and squeezing your eyes shut, so he stops midway.

He sits back again and as soon as you feel his presence retreat you let out our breath.

It hurts his heart to hear it.

You solely turn to face him when he doesn’t say anything, and he points to one of the grimy blankets strewn over the side of the tv. He grunts, and you catch his drift.

You get up to retrieve it, and hear his gravelly voice. “Get the remote too.”

When both items are brought back, Dabi snatches the blanket from you and drapes it over himself contentedly.

What am I, an errand girl?

He tosses the remote at you to your surprise, and you look at him with raised eyebrows.

He props his cheek against a fist and stares briefly at the tv.

You take your chances and press the on button on the remote.

The ancient monitor comes to life, and it takes a few minutes of scrolling through the channels and glancing at Dabi’s face to decide the appropriate one to watch. You settle on some old slasher finally after seeing the scowl on his face lessen at the sight of a rusted blade chopping through some guy’s shoulders.

It’s weird to be sitting there with your bully-turned-beau, watching a horror flick as if your relationship with him was normal. You’re surprised he hasn’t jumped your bones yet, it’s what he always wants to do these days as if you’re planning on leaving and it’s his last dying wish to fuck you.

But he does nothing except for sit there, gazing at the screen with unblinking eyes, bouncing his knee.

He wants you near him.

What, does he have to spell it out for you? Why do you think he even sat you next to him with a blanket and a shitty movie?

Dabi expected you to snuggle up to him the moment you say back down. It’s rather insulting that you haven’t so far, if he’s being honest. Why would a fire user like him need a blanket to keep warm? That was for you.

And the horror movie? The only reason he allowed you to put it on is because he wanted you to jump, scream, flinch-hell, do something so he can put an arm around you and tease you for being scared!

But you just sit there. Stock-still, like a deer caught in headlights. Hands in your lap, back straight up, it bothers him that you’re not relaxing around him.

“Aren’t you cold?” You jump at the break in silence.

Indeed it is cold, the chilly winter draft seeping through the crumbling foundations of the old bar. But you’d resist, not wanting to know where he was going with this.

“Uh, no, I’m good thanks.”

He looks at you like you’re crazy. “You’re literally shaking cold, doll. Come here.”

You turn to him beseechingly, very much not wanting to prolong this. “Dabi...”

You’re met with an icy glare.

And so you begrudgingly scoot closer to him, barely a few inches away. Gingerly picking up the corner of the blanket, you place it over your lap in a faux effort to warm yourself.

Dabi rolls his eyes when he sees this, and pulls you by your arms to fall against his chest.

You gasp lightly at how warm his torso is, and can’t help the shiver that passes over you.

Unable to stop yourself from chasing the warmth amidst the cold night, you huddle closer to him, pressing your palms against his chest to feel more of his heat.

He looks down at your head and gives the slightest twitch of his lips.

His heart swells, and he hopes you don’t hear how embarrassingly loud it’s pounding against your hands.

You slowly start melting in his hold, shifting your leg up adjoining his to seek out more heat, and it makes his cock twitch slightly. He likes you like this: pliant, easy, comfortable. He just wishes you’d talk more, and with less of that apprehension and fear in your eyes

Some minutes pass, the slasher fic having been ended and changing to a rom-com. Dabi doesn’t remember the last time he saw one of those. It must have been back when he was Touya, back when his mom would bake his favorite cookies and him and Fuyumi-chan and Natsu would chase each other around-

You stir in his arms, mumbling a bit from dozing off. Dabi gazes at you, wondering when the day would be when you bake him his favorite meals, when he gets to chase you around and make you giggle instead of chasing you like prey and making you scream.

He rubs up and down you arms soothingly with hot palms as you murmur and begin to wake up. You sit up from his chest and rub your eyes, yawning widely all the while.

It’s only when you focus on him smirking down at you that you jump back as if you’ve been electrocuted.

His smile drops at that.

You scowl at his proximity, mentally face-palming at how you could’ve been lulled to sleep so easily by this dickhead. It wasn’t even that cold, how could you have warmed up so easily to him?

A blast of icy air seemingly coming from nowhere settled over your bones and you shivered violently, rubbing your arms that were warm a minute ago.

Okay, maybe it was a bit cold. But you’d be damned if you willingly became vulnerable for him any more than you had to.

“Is someone tired?” He teased, his white teeth gleaming with his sickening grin.

“Whatever, I’m going to bed,” you mutter and avert your eyes, getting up to go upstairs.

“Good idea, I think I’ll come too.” You don’t need to turn around to hear the smug laughter in his voice, knowing full well that he was making fun of you.

You grumble and stalk upstairs with him right at your heels. At one point he lifts his gaze just to see your cute ass sashaying side-to-side with every step you took up.

He can’t help himself when he reaches a hand out and squeezes the flesh there, causing you to yelp and shoot up the stairs even faster.

Dabi shakes his head and snickers to himself, beelining after you to his quarters.

It’s a medium size-room, not meant for two people but that doesn’t stop him from cramming you in here every night.

You’re already glowering at his sheets, yanking them back and getting ready to dive in when a sudden thought strikes him.

“Have you eaten yet?” He leans against the door, arms crossed and eyebrows raised.

“Yes.” Comes your muddled answer from beneath the comforter.

You did not, in fact, eat anything for almost a day and a half. You couldn’t do it, your stomach was constantly in knots from his presence.

“Don’t lie to me,” his nostrils flare and he glares at you.

“I said I ate already.”

“Yeah? When exactly? ‘Cause if I remember right, i haven’t seen you leave my sight for almost 36 hours now, and none of that time includes when you ate.”

You stay silent, fuming underneath the covers. Why the hell was he so concerned about you? It pisses you off that he’s putting up a fake act of caring about you, just so that he feels less guilty about raping you.

He sighs and shifts to open the door. “Stop being such a bratty little shit. You were doing so well earlier, so keep it that way unless you wanna piss me off.”

Dabi turns the knob and takes a step out of the room. “I’ll ask you one last time before I choose myself- what do you wanna eat?”

“Eat shit.”

It’s so faint and muffled, but he hears it. His eyes widen marginally, his jaw clenches and the brass knob under his inflamed palm starts to steam and bubble.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?”

“I said eat shit!” You throw the covers off and glare at him full on. “Stop pretending like you actually like me, or that you care about me. You’re a crazy fucking rapist, you’re not my father for gods’ sake, so stop trying to be this fake good person!”

The only sound around the room is your soft panting and the squeaking of bubbling metal. Then, it stop.

He steps forward, and speaks softly. “You want me to be the villain so bad?”

Another step forward, and you instinctively retract your legs from the edge of the bed.

“Fine. We’ll play your little game. You’re not leaving this room until I say so, or eating until I give you permission, since that’s what you wanted anyways. Wanna act like a stone cold bitch? Be my guest.”

His posture immediately relaxes, and his smug smile returns as he crosses the room to flip onto the bed.

You look at him in disbelief. “Are you kidding me?”

He turns over and scrolls through his phone.

There’s no way he’s serious. Is he actually planning on keeping you in this room? You’re already limited to the base as it is with him breathing down your back, no way in hell you’d tolerate even more confinement.

Just to check his bluff, you slowly slip off the bed and pad towards the door, one eye over your shoulder to check that he hadn’t turned around. But the second your hand outreaches for the disfigured blob of cooling metal on the door, a massive wave of blue flames lash out mere inches from your hand and between the knob.

You scream and clutch your hand, leaping backwards.

“What the fuck, Dabi?!”

He says nothing, but continues to smirk at his phone.

You take a deep breath and are about to try to open it again his his raspy voice calls out, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. My nursing skills aren’t as good as yours. And even if you do manage to sever your hand and try again, if you leave then I’ll personally make sure Shigaraki withdraws all your missions here on out.”

You pause at that, cursing under your breath. As much as you knew he’d never admit it to your face, your leader needed Dabi for long distance combat. He was the second most powerful member in the group, so his word was scripture after Shigaraki’s himself. He would do anything Dabi would say if it meant keeping him in the League. You, however, were expendable at the end of the day.

Sighing, you trudge your way back to the rickety bed, grumbling under your breath. He says nothing, simply continuing to scroll through his phone as if he didn’t blast hellfire at you seconds before.

Sleep did not come easily. Even after Dabi put his phone away, he didn’t press up against you like he usually did at night. The empty space behind you was growing colder and harder to ignore.

You tossed and turned for a couple minutes, contemplating what to do. Apparently he was serious when he said he wouldn’t let you leave the room until he said so. So when was he gonna give you the all-clear?

Your stomach rumbled loudly, and you winced clutching it. Damn it. If only you had taken up his offer instead of throwing a tantrum.

Finally, after an excruciating 10 minutes more of deafening silence save for your weeping stomach, you cave in.

“Dabi.”

Silence.

“Dabi, you awake?” You prop yourself up on an elbow and peek over his shoulder. His eyes are closed, but his chest is moving too fast for a slumber.

“Look, I’m...I’m sorry I didn’t listen, okay? I should’ve eaten when you told me to.”

Nothing again.

“Hey.” You lightly shake his shoulder, but no response comes from him.

You sigh in frustration, tapping your fingers on the pillowcase. Suddenly, an idea comes to you, but it makes your stomach recoil in disgust and quiet down its grumbling. Desperation is a bitch.

“Can I make it up to you...?”

And finally, he turns around to face you, one cheek propped against his palm, a lazy grin complimenting his salacious gaze.

“Well, why didn’t you just say so earlier doll?”

You grimace in disgust, mixed emotions at your plan working.

“So what exactly did you have in mind, hmm?” He pouts condescendingly down at you, and you grit your teeth before letting him in on it.

“Um, well..I thought maybe I could...um, y’know, like..I wanna, um...” Oh god. This was more embarrassing than you thought. How are you supposed to ask your captor if you can suck his dick? Usually he just took you fighting tooth and nail, you never fully submitted like this before.

And he knows it too, based on the way his eyes gleam in the silver moonlight and shadows of lust cross his face while looking at your wide eyes and bitten bottom lip, your fidgeting fingers showing nothing but needing pure guidance.

But this isn’t supposed to be easy, he doesn’t want you to feel comfortable, he wants you to feel bad and make it up to him.

To give you a little push, however, he gives toga slight hint as he sits up and leans back against the rickety bedrest, folding his arms behind his head.

“So, what’s it gonna be sweetheart? ‘Gonna stare at me like that all night or are you gonna tell me how you’re gonna make this up to me?”

You look up at him, conflicted for a moment before solidifying your resolve. You shyly reach out a hand and touch the outside of his thigh, slowly rubbing and moving it closer up to the tent in his pelvis.

Oh, this is precious.

“What?” He sneers. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. You were pushing me away earlier, but now you wanna suck my dick? Make up your mind, babe.”

You wince and continue, not backing down from his mean comment. You knew he wanted this, he expected this from you. That’s why even though he’s spitting venom from his lips, his hips are bucking up into your hand as you stroke over his member.

Your fingers move nimbly up and down, around and under his thighs and dick, with him softly cursing in the background as he grows harder and harder.

“Stop being a tease and get to sucking. It’s what you were made for, anyways,” Dabi’s low voice comes out from in between little moans.

Your hand shakes a little bit as you fumble with the drawstrings on his pj’s, and he snickers at your inexperience. When you finally free his length, it bounces out like its on fucking hydraulics, precum beading up at the tip, his shaft coated with an intimidation Jacob’s Ladder.

He watches you lick your lips and he groans under his breath. You’re nervous and scared, but he’s wondering whose heart is beating faster right now. The hand which you use to hesitantly start pumping him is so much softer than his own, and even though he’s gotten fairly accustomed to your body and the feel of it, the sensations multiply tenfold when you do it willingly for him.

Dabi has half a mind to shove your head down onto his shaft when he feels like you’re stalling with your hands, however good they feel. He wants to see you sloppy with saliva dribbling down your chin like a baby.

But he waits. As excruciatingly painful as it is, he wants to see what you’re like when you do things at your own pace, and at your own...comfort? If you can even call it that.

Finally, finally after caving in from his silent flower you get the idea to put it in your mouth.

Your face contorts in disgust as you slowly lower your head and latch your lips onto the slippery bulb, hollowing your cheeks out and sucking hard at the tip.

Dabi hisses and juts his hips up into your mouth, furiously chewing at his burnt lower lip as he holds back a pornographic moan. He knows you’d be startled and embarrassed by it, so he refrains...for now.

That doesn’t mean he’s not gonna tell you what to do, though.

“Yeah, just like that. Suck it like an ice-pop. No, don’t use your teeth idiot. And fondle my balls while you’re at it, too.”

Instructions pour into your ears, one after another as you fumble around trying to satiate his needs. You’re clumsy, which makes it even messier and hotter for him. Various fluids coat your hand and the lower half of your face as you work on him, doing exactly what he says. Sucking and kitten-licking the tip, even going so far as to dip your tongue into the crevice of his tiny hole and rapidly lick up the massive amounts of pre bubbling up after doing so, spiraling your tongue down the piercings and on his shaft until you circle around his balls. Your spit helps as lube to slick up his dick as you pump your hand while nursing on his plush balls.

Dabi, of course, has a hand woven through your hair and randomly jerks down on your head when you hit a good spot. You can tell he’s trying his best to hold back from his way his body and arms shake in self restraint, so you know it’s time to finish things up before his control snaps.

You start stroking him even faster, squeezing a little harder when you move up on his tip and massaging his balls. The soft schlick schlick sounds echo throughout the quiet room, the rustling of his sheets as his legs move to their own accord mute the thudding of both your hearts.

You can tell his orgasm is about to come from the way his cheeks puff up and his chest heaves. Pulling away is futile, as the second he sees recognition in your eyes he finally does what he’s been wanting to do, and slams your head all the way down his length.

He starts actually face-fucking you now, all 7 1/2 inches tightly cramming in your throat. You retch and cry out around his dick, trying to pull your head back but he’s not having it; he pounds the back of your canal and you swear you’ll wake up with a bruised esophagus in the morning.

“Fuck, fuckfuckfuck yes doll, fuck, just a little more, you’re doing so good, my little cumdump huh? You love me, yeah? Of course you do, of course you love your daddy, you’re never gonna leave me you’re gonna stay right here under me like the good little girl you are-“

Filth pours from his mouth as white ropes leave his cock, your already-filled throat flooding with his seed and leaking out of your strained mouth.

You squeeze your eyes shut as he waits for a moment or two, calming his breath down by taking deep inhales in place of his rapid panting. His breath deepens after a minute or two, but he still has an iron grip on the back of your head sealed so tight that the cum is trapped on the inside of your stretched lips.

“Mmmfh!” You cry out and beat at his knee. He finally looks down at focuses on you, squinting and laughing at your predicament.

“Aww what’s wrong, don’t wanna gargle my kids? Would you rather have them someplace else?” He shakes your head back and forth on his softening cock and more seed spills out over your mouth and around his groin.

You painfully pull your head up, and Dabi revels in how you look.

Teary-eyed, your hair a mess, cum and spit coating your mouth like a fucking whore.

You’ve never looked more beautiful to him than you have at that moment.

“Come on, clean me up,” he gestures to the mess on his body, and you grimace.

“Do I have to? I just did what you wanted me to-“

“I thought you were trying to make it up to me?” He raises an eyebrow and looks you up and down.

You sigh and try to do it quickly, ingesting the vile contents and avoiding his cruel grin.

After what seemed like a lifetime, you finish him off and flop down in bed, catching your breath.

“So, was that good enough? Can I go outside now?”

“It’s the middle of the night, where the hell would you go right now?” He fluffs up his pillow and pulls his pants back up, getting ready to actually sleep this time.

“Well, I mean yeah, but...you know what I mean, in the morning you’ll let me go out, right?”

He rolls over to face you, and you can’t decipher what emotion crosses his face as his position blocks out the moonlight. From his body rolled over, the light reflecting off the side of his head would almost make it seem like he had white hair.

“Who said anything about letting you go out?”

You gape at him for a moment, then chuckle nervously. “Come on, don’t freak me out like that. You said that if I made it up to you-“

“I said make it up to me, as in apologize for your bitchy attitude. I didn’t say anything about you leaving. You’re gonna have to do more than a shitty blowjob if you wanna leave this room.”

“Dabi!”

“What? I’m just complying with what you wanted. You didn’t wanna go with me, right? So, I’m playing by your rules.” He says simply, shrugging as if it’s no big deal.

Tears brim up in your eyes. “You’re an asshole.”

“Exactly. Which is why you’re not leaving until I say so.”

You turn over and scoot away from him, ignoring his scoff. But you suppose you couldn’t be too mad, after all.

You don’t know what you were expecting from a villain anyways.

[fxirfield]

nothing could've prepared him for whatever he'd see caged away. from how docile they seemed beforehand, it brought back a moment in his memories. a lamb behind a fence, staring back at lou so blissfully unaware of its end. clueless that it and many others were bred with a short-lived future to sustain other life. natural sacrifice, should be knowledge they're born with, right? that it's just the way it goes, how prey are equipped to pick flight as predators are equipped to pick fight. it's what stayed in his mind whenever he looked these livestock in the eyes before killing them. so why was it so hard to keep that same cool now? why was the victim bringing themselves out of the shadows and into the light enough to put a stagger in his step? slipping backwards forced him to look past the bars with a face akin to a deer in headlights.

lou, the man who was most often seen with a stone-cold expression, always tightly knitted with distaste and spite in the face of the sawyers—it all shattered like glass at the sight. no innocent human being should be put through torture, he believed that, but to lay eyes upon the result of such misery was an entirely different thing. but he couldn't draw his eyes away, not now. what was once thought to be a sheep turned into a rabid mutt desperately pulling at its chains. his own faded from a startled buck to a kicked dog. he knew underlying all that hate and rage was grief. from the way they cursed with venomous thorns, he knew this had to be because of the others that came with them. and he didn't do anything about it. yet he constantly daydreamed—that maybe this time, just this time, he'd find a way to unlock those damned cell doors and give these people a second chance. he'd free them of the ropes that branded themselves into their wrists, lead them the right way. he could join them, earn his right to call himself a survivor rather than being spared on a fluke. maybe he'd even die swinging, something to make up for those he let die.

but he'd never have the courage. his mind flooded, all of a sudden the rancid smell that roamed the underground floor got stronger. he swore it started getting to his stirring head, feeling lightheaded as his stomach twisted. too caught up with how he thought he might throw up, welling eyes nearly bypassed him, threatening to fall. lou wouldn't let that happen, smacking his temple with the base of his palm in an attempt to get his head straight. the air felt thicker with how quick and shaky his breaths were, trying to loosen his tightened ribcage to speak. " i— i'm not apart … i'm not working with them , " he stumbled over his words, carefully shifting over to the barred walls. he couldn't bear to keep his gaze fixated on leland, not like this. teeth gently chewed into his inner cheek, picking out the right things to say, " can you eat ? there's no meat or anything like that . a-actually— i don't really know what it is , it's a mess, sorry . " a hand slowly nudged the plate closer to the gaps, crossing his legs while he continued to look off to the side.

he remembered when he was first down here. dragged into the house conscious before being hit over the head and left to hang. he was seeing double after landing right on his skull and getting the wind knocked outta him. the soles of boots crunching over leftover bones as he ran around like a headless chicken. some rooms looked like slaughterhouses painted from the animal's perspective, with insides of your kind spread everywhere and daunting hooks waiting for fresh meat. he didn't have to explore much after he bumped into a familiar leather-masked face, saved from the possibility that he'd end up in one of these prisons—although he wondered if being captured like this would've been a better end than watching others endure it.

[ moving threads from discord ] ― @fxirfield [ Lou & Leland ] brief summary : even within the hands of ruthless cannibals Leland finds every chance to relentlessly fight with an intent to break loose ... but what happens when after months of abuse , an oddly friendly ( but errant ) face offers him aid ?

Plink . There was a stench of decay to the air one couldn't ignore , remnants of gore scattered across the floor , splatters of blood painting the surrounding walls . . . signs of a slaughter , though one would be foolish to think the viscera belonged to animals— Leland knew better , has seen with his own eyes where such produce came from . How many different organs could be harvested from a body before there wouldn't be anythin' left to take anymore . . . plink .

The husk of a person stared at him from across the floor , a sight that should've raised fear within him but he was past that point . He has seen worse , after all . Things that haunted Leland in his dreams like the screams of those closest to him— Sonny , Jules . Neither of them deserved to die in the hands of cannibals . Human remains adorned every inch of the establishment , severed limbs hung from the ceiling along with the bodies of those who were unfortunate to fall for the lies they too have been told . . . will he ever be among them , too ? Or will he end up like the others— gutted , cut up like swines ready for slaughter ? Plink . He could still hear their screams , their lifeless eyes starin' back at him whenever he dared to close his eyes in hopes of some peace . Leland could see them , even now , loomin' over his defeated form as foul reminders of what he's failed to do . " I'm so sorry-- " he'd plead in the darkness , begged for the forgiveness of those he felt he's abandoned . Maybe he could've saved them if he was stronger , if he could just break loose from the ropes that still kept him bound-- powerless on the cold basement floor . Wrists bled from weeks of abuse as he'd try to loosen those ropes , only for that bastard to come around 'n tighten them even more so he'd have to start all over . And he would , each and every time . Not givin' a damn about the injuries he caused on himself— he couldn't afford to have such selfish thoughts , not when there wasn't any time he could spare to lose .

Plink . Drenched in his own sweat and gore sat a man who should have been afraid but instead held the rage of a thousand seas in his eyes , fightin' relentlessly against his restraints and the monsters who he swore to wipe off the face of earth once he was out . Days turned into weeks and yet Leland's facade would only ever falter when his life would hang by a thread , pickin' back up where he left off the moment he wasn't unconscious— lackin' the strength but not the spirit that was needed to get them the hell out of there .

Wounds littered every inch of the young athlete's body , bruises paintin' his skin in different hues of blue & purple , especially around his face . A black eye was still healin' from the last time he dared to get mouthy with his captor , takin' the opportunity to kick 'em right where it hurt when his ropes were loose enough for him to recoil— to fight , somethin' he wouldn't quit doing despite the injuries he's suffered . His friends relied on him , he had to get them out of there— Ana , Connie , they were still within the hands of those bastards . . . he could only hope they were still alive , that they'd choose him over them to butcher for dinner that night— he sure gave 'em every reason to ,

If only he could buy them more time . . .

[albakore]

Brotherly Rivalry

Synopsis (request): I enjoy your blog maybe way too much, and I just thought of something… how Diluc would be if his s/o is close to Kaeya and vice versa ?? I think these two would be more jealous if their s/o is close to the other 🤔 so yup jealousy hc or whatever you’d like please ^^~

Characters: Kaeya, Diluc (gn!reader)

Warnings: a little angsty in Kaeya's, but there's fluff at the end. also not proofread

A/N: YES !! YES !!!!!! I was so excited to see this request as a diluc and kaeya enjoyer >:D also thank you for the compliments you’re too nice!!

Diluc

if you’re close with kaeya before you start dating him, he tries to block it out at first

he knows rationally that it wasn’t like you had to choose one brother or the other

but also knowing what he knows about kaeya, he does his absolute best to “warn you” about kaeyas “real self”

in his mind he’s only doing it out of concern for your well-being!

he knows kaeya will not have been honest about his background

absolutely denies being jealous.

“I’m not a child…”

glares at kaeya all night whenever kaeya decides he wants to hang out with you at Angel’s share, effectively stealing your attention away from Diluc

but if you ever go out with kaeya just the two of you? oh boy Diluc’s heart might just combust and not in a Good Way

“Hey, ‘Luc, I’m headed out for the day!” You called in the direction of his study as you sat down by the door to put your shoes on.

“Where are you going?” He asked as he emerged from the doorway, heavy footsteps making their way over to where you were sitting.

“Kaeya and I are going out calla lily picking.” You replied cheerily, not taking your eyes off your laces as you worked them up. You didn’t catch the way the man behind you stiffened immediately.

“Just you and him?” He asked tentatively, eyes trained on your back. His eyebrows had furrowed and his lips quirked downward. You let out a small ‘mhm’ before standing up finally and turning around to face him. His chest felt hot but he couldn’t quite put a finger on why, probably just out of concern for you.. yes, that had to be it. Was it always so hard to breathe in here? He crossed his arms over his chest defensively as he kept his eyes trained on you.

“Is something wrong?” You asked, reaching out to smooth over some of his unruly hair. He subconsciously leaned into your touch and let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

“Just be careful, ok?” He had so much more he would’ve liked to say, so much more he would’ve liked to tell you to do, but he feared sounding possessive and controlling. He knew you could take care of yourself. It wasn’t like he didn’t trust you either, quite the opposite in fact. He would put the world in your hands without hesitation. So why did the thought of you going out with his brother seem to bother him so much?

“Of course!” You again flashed him a smile, then turned around and let your hand rest on the doorknob.

Before you could even twist the door open, his hand caught your wrist and he turned you around to face him. “(Y/N). I’m serious.” He murmured as he pulled you closer to him. Diluc rarely ever initiated any contact, so the embrace caught you off guard. It was only then that it clicked to you. He didn’t mean stay safe from the hilichurls or abyss mages, he meant from Kaeya. You’d heard a story or two about Kaeya making some questionable decisions in the name of getting the job done, like activating a ruin guard and putting his own men in danger, but he’d never put you in any danger thus far…

You wrapped your arm around Diluc and brought his head to your shoulder comfortingly. “I’ll be fine ‘Luc, promise.” You whispered to him. You could feel his racing pulse under your fingers as his arms stayed wrapped around you. “Say, are you perhaps… jealous?” You added in teasingly as you stroked his hair. He gave a small huff instead of a verbal response tightening his hold on you slightly.

A knock sounded on the door behind you interrupting your moment together. “Well, I better get going. I’ll be back for dinner, okay?” You finally slipped from his grasp as you walked back over for the door. His mind drifted as you greeted his brother, his only thought being how badly he didn’t want to leave you two alone. Maybe he could convince you to let him tag along…

Kaeya

bitter

that’s the best word to describe him

he can’t help but feel inferior to Diluc in a lot of ways, Diluc is rich and compassionate and handsome

not that Kaeya lacks any of those things anyway

well maybe he's not rich but he's definitely financially stable at least

so learning of your friendship, or even knowing prior and trying to pursue a relationship with you anyway

he often finds himself reviewing his actions, your actions, what you find appealing in Diluc, etc. trying to figure out what he should do more or less of to keep your attention solely on him

jokes about it all the time to cover up his true feelings about the scenario.

"Darling if I didn't know any better I'd say you were dating Diluc instead of me." chuckles to hide the pain

will be so absolutely hurt if he finds out you're honest with Diluc about things you weren't open with him about

"Why is he helping you with this instead of me?" Kaeya asked, defensively crossing his arms over his chest. He had learned through his other contacts that the Abyss had targeted you for some reason. They were sending you threats and other vaguely worrying messages, and the worst part is you went to Diluc to ask for help instead of your dear boyfriend! Kaeya had stumbled upon you two out in the wilderness fighting some abyss mages together when he pulled you away giving Diluc some vague excuse about how he needed to talk to you.

"It's not like that, Kae, I swear-" You quickly tried to put his ever racing mind at ease.

"I'm not sure what you mean by that, care to catch me up to speed?" He feigned innocence, wanting to hear you say outright that it looked a little suspicious to be running around with Diluc like you had. Kaeya wanted nothing more than to be able to place his utmost trust in you and for you to be able to do the same with him. This kind of treatment is the kind of thing Kaeya finds happening in his worst nightmares.

You sighed, "you know what I mean."

"No, actually, I don't. I asked a simple question about why he was helping you, I didn't insinuate anything else was going on. In fact, you were the one to bring up the notion that there was something more between you two. Should I be worried?" His eyebrows were furrowed, his gaze fixated on your reaction. His normal cocky smile was replaced with a rare but genuine frown of concern.

"Listen," you started, "the only reason he's helping me is because he got a letter similar to mine. They both asked us to meet our perpetrator at the same location, it was only coincidence on our end that we ended up running into each other." You watched as Kaeya slowly unfolded his arms and let his shoulders sag with a sigh. You grabbed his hand gently, rubbing soothing circles over the skin that peeked out over the leather.

"I was going to tell you at that dinner we had planned tonight." You continued softly, pulling a little envelope out of your back pocket and showcasing to him the Abyss's message to you. "I didn't want to pull you away from your work until I knew what was going on. I never meant to make you feel like I was sneaking around you. For that, I really am sorry." You brought his hand to your lips, placing a soft kiss over his knuckles.

He brought you into a hug and tightened his arms around you, pressing a kiss of his own to your temple. "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have gotten so defensive." He whispered to you, a soft resignation that not many people got to witness from the usually cocky calvary captain. "If you ever have trouble with anything else, please don't hesitate to come pull me from my work, whether you know the full story or not." A pleasant breeze engulfed the two of you standing in the middle of the forest in each others embrace. Bird chirping and rustling leaves mixed with the sounds of Kaeya's heartbeat to make for the perfect ambience for you two to bask in whilst in each other's presence.

The sound of a branch snapping caused both of you to split apart and draw your weapons on high alert. To your chagrin, there stood and incredibly uncomfortable-looking Diluc just a few feet away from you two. He realized fast that you two had noticed him and he quickly cleared his throat. "Sorry, you two were taking a long time and I grew concerned for (y/n)'s wellbeing.."