#my cat is a sadist: confirmed?
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skylernightmare · 15 days ago
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My cat is watching Scylla eat the crew and is purring ฅ^._.^ฅ
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cosycafune · 3 months ago
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LOVE MAKING
⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝ corruption runs deeply within sylus, in the eyes of you -- his prey. you’re always beneath sylus, fucked deliriously until your sanity is splattered. however, it's time for you to finally corrupt the estranged ruler. you yearn for, onychinus, to beg for you for the first time. until he’s a broken mess, corrupted for a sweet, addictive you. if you are not careful, things could get rough; sylus is an insatiable beast.
acts: breeding kink, rough sex, smut without plot, creampies, hickeys, corruption kink, spanking, unprotected sex, bondage, power dynamics, orgasms, riding, degrading, mentions of wet dreams and potentially more. mdni 18+. masterlist.
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⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
STRADDLING a tied-down Sylus, you sadistically grin. Inevitably, the Onychinus leader remains beneath you – contradicting his strength. Currently, you’d do anything for his vulnerable state to be flaunted, for others to see the twinkle in his crimson eyes – waiting for you to make him plead for you. Plead for a nude, goddess-like you to pulverise a hickey-stained, reddened him.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Grinning, Sylus admires your plump breasts above him – his question filled with mesmerisation.
“Seeing you beneath me is hot,” Smitten, you sultry speak, “You’re covered in hickeys, desperate, covered in your cum, and not a drop is in me.” Chuckling, you softly shift back – allowing Sylus’ cock to be teased by your slick folds.
“So, my sweet Sylus, what do you want?” Harshly grinding against his monstrous cock, you taunt him – filled with a bursting fever of lust.
“I want all of you,” Sylus whimpers out, completely compelled by your siren-influenced cunt – grinding against his cock so beautifully.
“Beg for it, baby,” Enthralled by Sylus’ compliance, you softly moan – poking at his loose restraint.
At any moment, he’s capable of breaking out – fulfilling your cruel game of cat and mouse.
“Sweetie, please,” With his features scrunched up, Sylus’ tone comes out lightly – murky at the feeling of your tempting cunt.
“Say it again…Sy’,” Purring, you continue to grind against him — gaining satisfaction from his compliance.
“Please,” Growing impatient, Sylus simply smirks. 
Subconsciously, he pleaded with you as his swollen lips helplessly parted — lust and deep-rooted yearning coating him. Sylus longed for so much more, no matter the destructive price that lingered before his eyes.
“Tell me why I should give you all of me?” 
Mocking Sylus, you moan and harshly groan — trembling at Sylus impulsively spanking your ass.
A loud echo thuds through his bedroom.
“Please—”
“You’re being bad, Sy’,” Close to losing authority, you roughly murmur — mewling at Sylus grasping your ass cheeks.
Impossibly close, Sylus whimpers extensively — gathering a slither of pleasure. Pleasure from the fat tip of his cock coddling your entrance, prodding against the warmth. Warmth Sylus desperately craves, but you wickedly deprived him of something he wants the most.
He’s a feral beast, desperate for all of you.
“Please, just this,” At his wit’s end, Sylus releases a straggled moan — subtle anger tinting his voice.
“How can the leader of the N109 zone be so whiny?” Teasing Sylus, your glassy eyes widen at Sylus��� intimidating aura seeping into his firm touch.
“You’re in control now, but don’t push your limits,” Sneering, Sylus frustratingly warns you — burrowing his fingers within your bubble butt.
“I’m in control,” Solidifying your authority, you grasp onto Sylus’ thick cock — allowing it to kiss upon your entrance.
“Just a little more,” Sylus evolves whiny beneath you, pleading for you to sink down onto his throbbing cock.
“You’ve earned it,” Thrilled by Sylus’ obedience, you gently mutter — beginning to swallow the tip of Sylus’ cock.
Regardless, you knew your robes of control would be reformed by an eager Sylus. The delirious look in his crimson eyes confirmed your thoughts, particularly with his eyes beginning to flutter. Flutter as you handle more than just his large tip, being expanded by his unethical cock.
“‘Need me… to take over?” Groaning, Sylus’ eyes roll back — slowing the pacing of his inquiry.
“Ngh! I…got this!” Struggling, you almost topple over — attempting to reassure Sylus.
“Do…you?” Relishing your struggle, Sylus buries himself further within a gasping you — aware that you always struggle with riding him.
“Ah! Yes!” Feeling Sylus’ cock so deeply inside of your cunt, you instinctively cry out with delight — itching to finally conquer all of him.
“Feel… all of me,” Attempting to take control, Sylus begins to softly thrust within you — his strained statement consuming you.
“N-No, ‘m in…control,” Sluggishly countering Sylus, you begin to gently bounce upon his perfectly-crafted cock — riddled with worship.
“Mhm, t-take… me like that, s-sweetie,” Mindlessly encouraging you, Sylus begins to shudder beneath you.
Confused, Sylus only lowly grunts at you reaching for his hands upon your toned hips. Idolising a riding you, Sylus’ consciousness disregards you using your disregarded underwear to tie his hands together. Naturally, you wanted him to feel helpless — mentally destroying himself to gather all of your celestial cunt.
“Look…at you,” Faintly grinning, your eyes roll back with your distorted taunting.
Reigning over a flustered Sylus, you succumb to his thick cock hungrily ramming into you. Ramming into you at a pace that completely swallows your sanity, leaving your rationality in the powerful arms of Sylus. Even with his hands tied up, Sylus couldn’t help but eradicate your gushy cunt with each thrust — indirectly claiming his ownership of you.
“Sweetie,” Proud of your dominant streak, voicing it, Sylus allows you to entwine with his momentum.
“‘Can’t…Ah! handle…Sy’,” Crying, you push yourself past your sexual limits — moments away from finishing.
“Hm, s-same,” Purring, Sylus mewls loudly — suffocated by your cunt pulverising his throbbing cock.
“‘Deep…” Falling silent, you subconsciously finish harshly on Sylus’ cock — distorted by how warm you feel.
“T-Tight, sweetie,” Sylus murmurs, physically buzzing with pleasure. 
Unable to handle himself, Sylus begins to plug your pouring cunt with more of his cock. More of his cock in an attempt to swell you with his seed, sacrificing everything with how good you pulverise him. Longing, lust, and devotion writhe so deeply within Sylus — stripping him of his restraint.
Harshness adorns every aspect of Sylus’ pounding. Not a hint of mercy paints his ravenous cock, driving him into stuffing himself impossibly further into your squelchy cunt. Each sound, each struggle moan from you, stirred a gluttonous Sylus on — leaving him to finally have his way with you.
“Hope…you get pregnant,” Sylus recklessly blurts out, thrusting his deepest within you before spilling every spurt of his seed inside of you.
“Ah!” Trembling, your sleepy eyes widen at Sylus’ impossible harsh shots of cum beating against your cunt.
Guess who’s begging now?
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do not copy, modify or claim any of my works as your own. all rights reserved; cosycafune. 2024. small banners credit: cafekitsune <3
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bonefall · 8 months ago
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Clear Sky Killed Bumble; Gray Wing's Desperate Defense
The "analysis" I've seen out there is beyond bananas. We are out there on state-of-the-art exploratory vessels, sailing the 7 seas into brand new lands, discovering new kinds of fruits to compare to the absolute lack of sanity people are displaying.
Clear Sky definitively killed Bumble. Gray Wing does not want to believe reality.
While some try to argue this death down to "negligent homicide," that Clear Sky essentially beat her unconscious and left her in an unsafe area where she got killed, that's so unlikely I'm confident in saying it's wrong. The evidence shows that Clear Sky tormented her to death with a ferocious, sadistic beating which caused her to bleed out, which is second degree murder, and used the smell of a fox and Gray Wing's blind adoration to lie his way out of consequences.
There's not a lot of ambiguity in the evidence that is presented. There is fox scent but no fox bites, and the preceding chapter provides a comparison between the wounds on Misty vs the wounds on Bumble. Clear Sky's story is so convoluted that not a single part of it makes any sense. Quite frankly it's only been topped recently by the "I can confirm this woman is evil because she snored her evil plans in their sleep" fib of ASC.
In either case, Gray Wing believes neither. He does not believe this is Clear Sky's kill in any way.
This moment is an excellent example of how Gray Wing continuously prevents anyone from taking any action against his dear brother's violence until it is too late. By convincing the moor cats to all calm down when they're rightfully furious, and treating the lives and perspectives of native cats as lesser, Gray Wing becomes complicit in some of the harm this tyrant manages to carry out.
To shield a person from the consequences of their own actions is enabling, regardless of if it's direct or indirect, wittingly or unwittingly.
We are going to go over the whole of the 26th chapter of DOTC Book 2: Thunder Rising, from Bumble's death scene to Gray Wing's downplay of it. A meticulous, step-by-step analysis.
Leading-up context
The Scene
The Immediate Response
Incredible suggestions that have been made that I had to read with my own eyes
Leading-up Context
Let's start from square one by introducing the cast, with the assumption you have not read DOTC or are just vaguely aware of it due to its reputation.
Bumble is a kittypet who regularly visits the woods without issue. She is a small supporting character in the first book, The Sun Trail, whose purpose is mostly to be a friend to Turtle Tail, who is the future wife of the main POV character, Gray Wing.
As the two girls become closer friends, Gray Wing becomes more controlling of Turtle Tail and more hostile towards Bumble. This culminates in Turtle Tail leaving "The Settlers" to live with her friend over the winter. All is idyllic until the humans adopt a third cat, known to the fandom as Tom the Wifebeater because of what happens next in Book 2; Thunder Rising.
Turtle Tail becomes pregnant, but notices that her roommates are keeping some kind of secret. She begs Bumble until she reveals that humans tend to take kittens away when they're old enough to be weaned. Turtle Tail leaves to return to the wild, and Tom the Wifebeater begins methodically torturing Bumble over the next month as punishment, leaving scratches, bruises, and "dried blood" all over her when the humans are not looking.
When Bumble tries to seek help from the moor cats, Gray Wing is frustrated that the battered woman has interrupted his walk with his new wife. It is stressed that Gray Wing hates her for taking his love interest away, and he believes she is too fat and clumsy to live in the wild. The leader of the moor cat settlers, Tall Shadow, has a hard time throwing Bumble out, until two outsiders, Wind and Gorse, who are trying to get accepted into this group themselves, take the initiative and drag Bumble back to her domestic abuser.
Gray Wing is biased against Bumble. This is a fact. He explicitly does not like her.
Shortly afterwards, the forest cat settlers, led by Gray Wing's brother Clear Sky, experience a fire and begin to expand their borders. They are already known as a violent group, their leader is a manipulative liar, and Gray Wing himself was once viciously mauled as Clear Sky sat by and watched.
Yes, Gray Wing is aware that Clear Sky sat there and watched, too. He called out to him and Clear Sky did nothing as Fox, a man who knew full well that this cat was his leader's brother, was shredding him.
Gray Wing doesn't want to believe his brother is a bad person. This is also a fact. He explicitly feels guilty when he has thoughts otherwise.
On-screen, through the POV of Gray Wing's nephew Thunder, we see a native woman named Misty slaughtered by Clear Sky for her land. Her children are taken, and her body lays unburied and rotting for two days before Wind Runner and Gorse Fur (sporting new names at the request of the moor cats) find her.
They describe the wounds they found on the corpse in detail and make an accusation,
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Now, before this point, Wind Runner and Gorse Fur have been doing everything in their power to endear themselves to this group. Gray Wing himself trusted them, because they've taught him methods for living here, caught and shared food, and even saved the life of his other brother, Jagged Peak, when a burrow collapsed on him.
But now his xenophobia towards them is coming back-- because they're calling for action against his brother. He's only ever uneasy about them when they seem to have an ounce of influence over his group.
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Turtle Tail's conclusion is completely sound, and if it hadn't been for someone else, would be correct. Clear Sky DID move to kill the children-- he was stopped by his underling, Petal. Turts was able to understand what Clear Sky was going to do without seeing it firsthand.
The crowd is shocked and furious, for logical reason. They ARE in danger. Clear Sky IS escalating his violence and expanding his territory. It's starting with the native population, and the moor cats are able to understand and predict what will happen next.
Except Gray Wing.
The Scene
While investigating ONE confirmed murder, as there is no reason to doubt Wind Runner and Gorse Fur except for conveniently xenophobic ones, and TWO suspected murders of children, the patrol hears the sudden shriek of a cat in pain.
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Bumble is found bleeding to death on a previously unclaimed patch of land, at the very center of a circle of trampled grass. There is the reeking smell of fox, and under that, there is the scent of Clear Sky.
Her wounds are described in great detail,
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Completely consistent with the way that the wounds were described on Misty. Nearly word-for-word.
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The only evidence of fox is the smell. No one heard it bark, there is no note of it bounding off, there are no bites or wounds consistent with those of a canid. They were described exactly the same as Misty's.
Slits are cat claw wounds. Not fox bite wounds. She was not being bitten, she was cut all over her body, prominently down her belly and sides.
Unless this fox shapeshifted into a cat and then meticulously created wounds consistent with the ones left on Misty, Clear Sky did this.
Where did the fox go? Probably came to investigate, maybe licked at the bloody cuts expecting a meal, and then was scared off by Bumble suddenly waking up and screaming. It's possible, but unlikely that the patrol's clamor scared it off, considering they didn't see or hear any fox noises.
There are also signs of a struggle-- and Bumble was not able to fight in the condition she is currently in. It's most likely it was the struggle from when she was being tormented and trying to get away, unless there was a fight with a fox while Bumble was still unconscious and she was dragged to the middle of it, for some reason.
However, a fight with a fox is still unlikely, as the patrol was able to hear the whimpering of a cat in pain as they approached but not the furious sounds of a battle with a large predator. If there was this whole epic brawl with a fox that trampled the grass around Bumble, why was there only a single shriek?
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Gray Wing, expert on the smell of Clear Sky's armpit, confirms it's his brother. His whole world spins when he realizes his Dear Brother is involved in this, feeling horror and disbelief.
(Also note that Gray Wing implies Clear Sky's involvement is the prophetic bad thing his adopted son mentioned in the previous chapter, not the shredded woman dying in front of him lol)
The rest of the group is able to acknowledge reality, coming to the obvious conclusion. Clear Sky is expanding his territory, including the very patch they're standing on. He has been violent in the past, even against other settlers. Misty was slaughtered in a way consistent with the victim dying in front of them, so he is killing cats who stand in his way. Gray Wing's immediate, literally DESPERATE response is first to jump to Clear Sky's defense.
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Gray Wing asks Bumble directly if it was a fox, and she is too weak to answer... until she finds the strength, as a domestic abuse victim, to blame herself for the way a cat beat her bloody. She thinks it's her fault for hunting here, because she was hungry, not thinking straight, and stupid.
I have seen this described as Bumble "making a defense of Clear Sky." I will leave it up to you, the reader, to determine if this sounds like Bumble is trying to say he's not guilty of hurting her or if it's the sort of infamous self-blame that domestic violence victims lapse into after a furious thrashing.
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When Clear Sky returns to the scene of the crime, he cuts her off while admitting he did assault Bumble, then glares at everyone to challenge a fight.
Gray Wing swoons over him like he always does.
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I have heard it said, without examples, that this is normal because this happens all the time in Warrior Cats. That it's a normal thing to be standing next to a domestic abuse victim who is bleeding out and watch her murderer daring all of your friends to do something about it, and admire how brave he is. That, again, without any examples, this is just something that every character does when the Villain of the Week exists in front of them, so it's not even special that it was Gray Wing's first response.
If you believe that, I have a bridge in London to sell you.
Desperation is under all of Gray Wing's feelings which immediately follow. His voice "cracks" when he has to ask if his darling brother did this. He wants to scream when he takes his sweet time answering. He shrinks under Clear Sky's gaze, because he reads that he's "accusing him of betrayal."
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But somehow, that FIRST response for him to fawn over his brother is not part of that, because in unquoted books of other arcs a hero has admired a villain?? Context doesn't exist because in some other book the same emotion was described maybe. Incredible.
No mention of how casually he brushes off this sight that makes his eyes show "guilt and horror," either. No talk of how he made a little ""joke"" about how no one greeted him nicely at a tortured woman's deathbed. Almost like he was caught red-handed and the wounds don't actually unsettle him as much as the crowd's reaction.
Even the glare-- Clear Sky is trying to get Gray Wing to do his bidding. He wants him to protect him, be his flying monkey, and control his furious people.
So at the next opportunity, Gray Wing jumps to his defense again. Second time in this exchange.
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FIRST he was described as "desperate." Now he takes a deep breath and BRAVELY licks that boot.
Turtle Tail steps forward and posits the obvious truth. Clear Sky is going mad with power, doesn't care who he hurts, and is completely capable of doing something like this to Bumble. This was already done to Misty, and even earlier, Clear Sky stood by and watched as one of his minions savaged Gray Wing in a similar way.
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The whoooole crowd can see this. It is Gray Wing, and Gray Wing alone, who prevents there from being any consequences for Clear Sky's actions.
He hypocritically believes that attacking Clear Sky for the murder of Bumble would make them all "no better than he is" when he had no qualms about coming to blows over the exile of Jagged Peak much earlier. "Attacking Clear Sky for Murder" is morally equivalent to "Actually Doing Murder."
This is only for Bumble though, a "foreign" woman he does not like. He did not believe this for Jagged Peak, and he will not believe it later when he watches Clear Sky strangle Rainswept Flower to death. They are worth physical consequences.
He even physically shields him.
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"he stepped between Clear Sky and his own cats, not sure which of them he was trying to protect." It's Clear Sky. Bumble's life means nothing to Gray Wing, so he is trying to protect Clear Sky from the fury of the angry mob he has earned by killing her and Misty.
He CANNOT let there be any doubt. Not even from himself. His brother must be protected at all costs. To that end, he is trying to make some kind of opportunity for Clear Sky to escape accountability.
If you are "neutral" in the conflict between victims and their abuser, you have taken the side of the abuser. If you provide opportunities for a perpetrator to escape accountability, you are an enabler. If you allow a suspect to escape the scene of a crime, since every cat in these books seems to be a lawyer the minute anyone wants to react to violence, you could be charged with accessory fleeing and eluding-- a felony.
Before you try to say this is all in the noble pursuit of peace, let's not be dense.
DOTC is not committed to non-violence for any other tyrannical leader. Especially not One Eye, even believing that an underhanded ambush that breaks the terms of a duel Clear Sky set is the good and righteous thing to do. Killing him was the correct action, as it was with Slash in Riverstar's Home. Outside of DOTC this logic is casually applied to Brokenstar, Tigerstar, Scourge, Hawkfrost, Darktail, and Ashfur-- with only Leopardstar and Blackstar being "exempt" for following an evil ringleader.
Gray Wing himself has no moral dilemma about One Eye or Slash, either. Nonviolence is not his goal.
It is Clear Sky, and Clear Sky alone, who the narrative of DOTC will conclude "deserved" a million second chances. That torturing Bumble to death, slaughtering Misty for her land, and countless offscreen cases of attacking natives didn't push him past the "fundamentally evil" threshold into an irredeemable monster, as is the case with Slash and One Eye later in this arc.
The difference between Clear Sky and DOTC's other two tyrants, to me, is obvious. Clear Sky is the POV's brother and a member of the in-group of The Settlers. The lives of his victims, as mostly "foreigners" and entirely women, are worth very little to the notoriously xenophobic and misogynist writing team.
If the moor cats had shredded Clear Sky right here and now, dozens of lives would have been saved. The First Battle wouldn't have happened. Justice would have been served for Bumble, regardless of if the cause of death was 2nd degree murder or negligent homicide. He wouldn't have smacked and beaten any of his other victims.
Gray Wing prevents this, giving Clear Sky an opportunity to tell a lie.
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(He even whines about the idea of Wind Runner challenging Clear Sky about boundaries, the whole thing that started this incident in the first place. This is the perfect time to start arguing about boundaries, actually, when he's in the middle of establishing new ones.)
In the past, I'd been too charitable to this exchange. This lie is obscene and anyone who believes it is ignorant. No frills, no bells, you either can't think critically or just didn't want to so Clear Sky can be innocent or Gray Wing can seem "reasonable."
Clear Sky's visibly eager to start his story, "glad of the chance" now that he's had time to concoct a story. He could have explained earlier but didn't, sizing the group up and glaring at his brother to crack a whip, asking if they believed he was capable of it, so he could gauge what he can get away with.
"New part of my territory" = Freshly annexed land he has violently conquered, confirming the patrol's fears of expansion.
"I wanted to give her a warning, just a little cuff" = No one leaves his territory gently. Confirmation he thrashed her, downplay of how severe.
"How was I to know she would faint?" = Bumble is visibly emaciated, and he's blaming her for not being able to stay conscious through the whole beating.
"I could see her paws twitching, and I knew she would come around" = He would not care, Misty's body was unburied for two days.
"So I left" = Leaving Count: 1
Pauses, wincing, because this is another act. Every time he's putting on a little show for other cats, he takes dramatic pauses and plays up his pain and regret. Seen earlier in this book.
"But heard a fox bark" = no barking was heard by the patrol, only a cat's shriek.
"And ran back" = Was apparently so close that he could hear barking the patrol didn't, but so far away that a fox had time to cut her to ribbons, AND this was so long ago the patrol wasn't close enough to hear the fight? Returning Count: 2
"But I was too late" = Wounds inconsistent with fox attack. Leaving Count: 2
"I was going to get help" = There is no medic in proto-SkyClan. When Jagged Peak broke his leg, they had to borrow Dappled Pelt. What help? Who?? Even as he says this, Frost's wound is going completely untreated. If Clear Sky was going to get help, why wasn't he telling Cloud Spots to do something when he got back?
"But then I heard you all arrive" = He left to get help but was still close enough to hear running? Just abandoning his noble quest to get that "help" he apparently has? Returning Count: 3
Not a single part of his story adds up. EVERY aspect of it has a problem, in that it's either deceptively worded to downplay his abuse, doesn't line up with who he is, or just doesn't make logistical sense.
It's not JUST a lie, it's a BAD one.
Even worse, Clear Sky is a known liar at this point. He does this when the truth would not benefit him, like earlier in this book when he fibbed to Thunder about why he abandoned him right in front of Gray Wing's face. The story doesn't make sense and there's not even any reason to give him benefit of the doubt, because he is known to be dishonest.
He's offended when Turtle Tail calls him on being full of baloney, and once again shoots a sharp look over to his flying monkey, expecting Gray Wing to dance on command and defend his honor like always.
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But Gray Wing seems to be perfectly capable of being "wise" when it would directly benefit Clear Sky.
I have seen the question begged, "if he's such a bootlicker then why he no verbally bootlick a third time in a single exchange?" and I would tell that person to read the text because it says why. Right there. Here, I've underlined it. So you don't miss it again.
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If Gray Wing licks that boot again, THIRD TIME, in front of an angry mob who wants to skin Clear Sky alive, they will lose patience and make the clearing look like Bruce's Eating Dome. So he shuts the fuck up and gives his ungrateful brother the chance to indignantly slip away, even though he desperately wants to cry out and tell him how shiny and lickable those boots are.
"What can I say?" Nothing. "I'll only make things worse" Correct. "If I don't let him leave now there will be a fight" im literally just quoting the text verbatim
He is NOT doing this because he does not believe him, NOR because he doesn't want to defend him. It's because this the best way to protect his brother from consequence.
And then Bumble uses her dying breath to apologize for ever hurting her friend, showing Bumble is still just blaming herself for everything, with Turtle Tail still repeating the same malicious excuses that were used to deny her asylum from domestic abuse.
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"I wish you could have found happiness, even though I was unwilling to help you. It sucked to learn that our shared wifebeater started wifebeating you, but we didn't want you in our camp so really this was unavoidable."
I've voiced my ire before, gone on long rants about how angry this exchange makes me and even campaigned for more recognition of the misogyny in this subplot. The fact that the last words Bumble hears are just more excuses from a person who could have done something disgust me, and I think I'm right to feel that it's vile that this sits unexamined in a book for young readers. But it doesn't change what happened.
She senselessly died in intense pain and despair, for the crime of existing. All that's left to say is that I wish Bumble could have found a better friend.
But ultimately, Turtle Tail is another woman in the notoriously misogynistic arc of DOTC. She's just a supporting character for Gray Wing's conflict, and he's got some opinions about what, exactly, is making this so sad.
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He doesn't give a fuck that this woman he hates has been murdered after slowly starving to death, for months, since he watched her be dragged back to a domestic abuser. She "stole" his romantic interest for a few months, after all.
It's stressed he "never especially liked Bumble" at her deathbed. It's not JUST "the death of a kittypet," a group of people he is bigoted against. It's about his piece of shit brother.
It's about how HIS REPUTATION HAS BEEN TARNISHED.
"It changes the way my cats think of Clear Sky," THAT HE IS NOW A KNOWN MURDERER, "and that changes everything" IT'S GOING TO BE A LOT HARDER TO DEFEND HIM NOW
This is completely consistent with Gray Wing's behavior into the rest of the chapter, and even the books beyond.
The Immediate Response
Gray Wing explains what happened to the other moor cats. He has to hide his actual belief that Clear Sky didn't actually do anything wrong so that the moor cats don't dismiss him for the biased, brother-obsessed little minion he is. He admits how he really feels about Bumble's death to Turtle Tail at the very end of the chapter-- so what he says here is a lie.
Not a delusion. A lie. He withheld the full truth of his bias when questioned. If he's honest about his conflict of interest, this group will trust his judgement less. He has a goal; to prevent his cats from retaliating.
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Wind Runner is, again, the one who is rallying the other cats into action. She's seeing that Clear Sky is murdering innocent cats, possibly even her friend considering how much she knew about Misty, and that this will only escalate. Gray Wing doesn't like that.
So when Tall Shadow starts suggesting the things he agrees with, like how Bumble's life was less valuable anyway so this is no reason to start a fight with his Dear Sweet Brother, and they should all just sit on their butts until no one's angry anymore, he decides she "deserves" his support.
It's a political move.
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"After all, she was only a kittypet... omg why are you so mad?? I didnt mean it like that, all im saying is that we should just calm down ugh dont be so sensitive" -Tall Shadow, channeling your racist aunt
If Gray Wing can get the other cats to waste their time on useless half-measures, like more patrols or perhaps writing a strongly-worded letter, he can make them feel like they're doing something when they're actually doing jack shit. Wittingly or unwittingly, this is a measure to stall the inevitable, making them miss their chance to strike while the iron is hot.
He's either an idiot or he's subconsciously acting from a place of loyalty to his brother. Bias resembles the former but is born of the latter, and either way the result is the same.
After this, there's a brief conversation where Tall Shadow makes it clear that there is absolutely no reason to be mistrusting Wind Runner. They both agree "when this is all over" she's a good cat to have around-- they just don't seem want to listen to her now, when she wants something done about the sadistic lunatic next door.
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Gray Wing's talk of "working together" is laughable. His idea of "working together" includes the cat who just slaughtered two people for existing on his newly annexed land, who long ago stopped listening to reason. Tall Shadow herself starts preening and announces that her response to all this is that Clear Sky must absolutely be stopped by some cat.......................... so she'll think abt it.
tomorrow maybe. we'll put a pin in it. set a little reminder on her phone or something.
(the genius plan she comes up with in the end is a nonsequitor babble about how rocks don't exist to be sat on, so clear sky should just stop conquering all the land or something. he listens intently and then throws her into a tank of piranhas.)
But anyway, it's time to smooth things over with Turtle Tail, who had been struggling with that uncomfortable truth that the moor cats, and Gray Wing specifically, were also culpable in some way for the slow, painful death of Bumble.
He'll fix that with a big display of affection.
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"Don't be mad at me it's nobody's fault :) She wouldn't have been able to cope so it's inevitable she wound up dead :) I'm sorry you're hurting bc i like you, not that i give a damn that your friend was shoved into a blender and shredded alive after starving for months :) Thanks to you I am now ready to lead this clan directly off the side of a cliff." -very endearing conversation i assure you
It works because Turtle Tail is not allowed to maintain her own opinions as a girl in DOTC. Obviously. Her husband licks her ears and tells her that he likes her and that's the end of any examination that they have any responsibility here. god forbid she re-examine her feelings towards the writers' favorite in light of how much of an ass he made of himself at her friend's deathbed.
Just in case it slipped your mind though, once again it is made clear that Gray Wing is reacting with leisure because he does not believe (or care) that Clear Sky killed Bumble. No, not even in the negligent homicide sense, that Clear Sky's actions allowed Bumble to die through beating her unconscious and leaving her alone in an unsafe location. He does not think this was something to blame Clear Sky for.
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He believes that the fox did it-- he was lying earlier when he said he "didn't know what to believe." He does. He didn't reveal his bias when he was being questioned, because he wants to prevent the moor cats from fighting Clear Sky over Bumble's death.
Also note the sneaky little turn of language Gray Wing makes there. In denial of Turt's claim that "innocent cats are being slaughtered," Gray's counter is Bumble alone before the pivot. The patrol was originally about Misty's murder and her missing kittens as Clear Sky expanded his borders-- but Misty's apparently not an "innocent cat" who's been slaughtered. She's absent from that category, implied to be part of Clear Sky's hypothetical "good reason" for expansion that Gray Wing needs to get to the bottom of.
Bumble's murder is denied. Misty's is implied to just be collateral damage for the unknown plan. He's unbothered about the death of either one.
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Gray Wing: "No one else can get to the bottom of this! theres only ME! I AM THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN STOP CLEAR SKY"
Also Gray Wing: (leaps in front of an angry crowd to defend his brother. cries that he doesn't believe hes capable of such terrible violence. actively prevents anyone else from doing anything about him)
Anyone with a vague awareness of DOTC knows how this ends. Gray Wing is going to lead them astray with his bad judgement, so purposefully delusional about his brother that they will have to dig a mass grave at Fourtrees. Gray Wing thinks he's a *~special boy~* who is the only one who can truly get through to his brother, and maybe he is, but not before dozens of people have to suffer and die for it.
This is enabling. To enable is to directly or indirectly support another's harmful actions, such as addiction or abuse. He did it here, both during and after Bumble's death, giving Clear Sky the cover to escape consequences for his actions and halting any attempts to do anything concrete. Because of him, Clear Sky never pays for what he did to her.
In the book 3, Clear Sky denies all wrongdoing, and in Bumble's last mention in book 4, her torture is described in passive voice. A terrible "happening" which seemingly couldn't have been avoided. No one is held accountable. Not the moor cats for turning her away, not Clear Sky for her killing, and even Tom the Wifebeater is redeemed after being given a chance to live in a clan for not being "soft" like his female victim.
All so sweet, beloved little Gray Wing never has to confront that he let a killer get off scot-free because the uncomplicated childhood memory of his brother as a lovely good boy was wrong. That he was so consumed by spite that he smugly watched Bumble get dragged away from the only people who could have helped her. That he was complicit twice.
Incredible suggestions that I have had to read with my own eyes
fucking ✨Bonus Round✨
"If clear sky fought bumble, why bumble leave no scratches?" I'll let you sit there and think about why the DOMESTIC ABUSE VICTIM did not fight back against a large, violent man who was beating her. I'll give you a minute. I'll play some jeopardy music.
"he's quote 'horrified and guilty' at the wounds which means he didn't make them himself" Clear Sky has a repeated habit of "blacking out" when he butchers women (Rainswept Flower, Willow Tail). He's also a liar and an actor, even according to his own account he'd seen these same wounds before when he came back a second time. Most importantly, what fucking part of "horrified and guilty" implies he didn't make those himself, does a toddler not look "horrified and guilty" when it spills chocolate milk on a couch and its parent sees it? Does that mean the toddler didn't do it? If you wouldn't accept this logic for a toddler why the fuck will you accept it for a suspected murderer?
"Maybe Clear Sky fought the fox off?" He doesn't actually say that, it's just implied during his lie when he says he showed up too late, but it's hypothetically possible. Even if he did fight this fox off, he must have still mauled Bumble because she is covered in claw wounds, even if he doesn't remember it because he "blacked out." There's also still the problems of Bumble being in the middle of the trampled grass, the patrol not hearing the sound of battle, his framing that he just tapped her and she passed out, and him apparently running to get help he does not have. Occam's Razor still suggests the solution is that this fox was scared off when Bumble screamed, with Clear Sky just using the convenient smell to lie his way out of consequences
"How'd Clear Sky get fox scent on him?" Probably from showing up to the crime scene that absolutely reeks and prowling around like an axe murderer, which we saw him do. Bumble had no fox bites and no one heard a fight. did you know that if you stand in a sewer you smell like shit
"Gray Wing just doesn't want to think his dear sweet brother could ever do such a thing :("
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"What if the Erins are just so incompetent that they created a crime scene completely inconsistent with the very true and real story that Clear Sky told, it just happens to look like a lie on accident, they unwittingly made him a liar earlier in this book because they forgot the events they previously wrote, and don't know anything about a type of predator that appears in nearly every entry of warrior cats and happens to be one of the most popular animals of all time" what if i tripped and fell and a shawarma with extra tahini sauce fell into my mouth, followed by an apple slice, and 3 litres of water. should i continue my fast or has Allah fed me.
All of this is why I am adamant on saying that Clear Sky killed Bumble by beating her to death. In order for this to have been the cause of a fox, you'd have to take a liar at face value and ignore every other detail. That's what Gray Wing does, described on the page as "desperate to believe in his brother's innocence."
Unfortunately, this will also not be the only time that Gray Wing's obsession with his brother and shockingly horrific judgement will put other cats in danger or get them killed. It's just the most deliberate example, and thus imo the most upsetting.
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bingo6776 · 2 years ago
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may i pleaaase have a “i hate everyone but her” wednesday, where she literally cannot breathe without Fem!R by her side, and she would do anything, anything, to make R happy, even if it meant sacrificing her infamous reputation as a cold-hearted, blue-blooded sadist by wearing a sparkly pink sweater R knit for her around the school, just to see R laugh and tease her about it. but if anyone else were to even dare mention it or make fun of R for making her go through this, she would gladly slit their throat as slow and as torturously as possible in front of everyone. basically really whipped wednesday and shy and soft reader. thank you in advance<333🫡
Wednesday almost killing someone in a pink sweater? YES!!!!
i hope this is what you were hoping for <333
3k
Without moving your eyes from the clock you watched as the hands ticked way too slowly towards the end of your Werewolf Anatomy lessons – you hope it was Werewolf Anatomy, you hadn’t really been paying attention to anything the teacher was droning on about. Wednesday would definitely need to help you study for the class later.
When the bell finally rang, you practically swept your arm across the desk to force your books and pens into your bag as quickly as you could. did you lose a few pens as they clattered to the floor? Yes. Did you care? Not at all.
It was finally the lunch period, which meant that your “I will stomp on your heart” girlfriend would be waiting outside for you, a bag of “I will put my needs first” pastries she had picked up from the Weathervane during her free period, specifically for you, in her hand.
‘Stomp on my heart my ass’  you thought as you tried to push your way into the crowded hallway.
As you’re finally able to fight – literally, you took a few elbows to the ribs – your way out of the crowd of people huddled by your classroom door for no particular reason, your eyes immediately fall onto Wednesday, who, unsurprisingly, is glaring at anyone who stepped too close to her in the middle of the busy hallway.
 Again, unsurprisingly, despite the throng of bodies that left very little space to move, there was a bubble around the gothic girl where no one dared to step out of fear of being maimed for life.
Except you, of course.
When her eyes finally found your own, the itching in her right hand to let her dagger fall into her grasp was overwhelmed by the urge to simply hold onto your hand, to let the warmth of your skin seep into the coldness of her own. She thought it was sickening that her hand sought out your own the second you were within reach, she absolutely adored the way her stomach twisted painfully in her stomach at the soft smile that you graced her with the second she did.
“And how are you doing today?” you strike up the conversation as you both walk towards the large tree in the quad that provides another shade against the shining sun for you to lounge comfortably under. “Any dead bodies? Mysterious stalkers?”
“Sadly, no. It seems that whoever decided to begin the game of cat and mouse took the week off,” she leans back against the tree, allowing your head to fall onto her shoulder as she hands you the brown bag.
“Yeah, well, uh… fingers crossed for another murder soon, then?” 
She only smirks in response, her form of gracing you with a full-blown smile in public, because God forbid anyone sees the absolutely adorable dimple that she had when she really smiled.
Your mind swam with thoughts of the girl, ‘fuck, I am such a gay ass mess for her’, being one of the most dominant thoughts. 
Once some time had passed and you knew lunch was coming to an end, you lifted your head from her shoulder and started fiddling with your hands as you dodged her curious gaze at the sudden lack of contact between you.
“So, Enid’s gonna be at Yoko’s tonight, right? With Divina?” you wait for the confirmation nod, despite already having asked the blonde werewolf earlier. “I was wondering if you were busy later tonight? If you are it’s totally fine, obviously, I was just curious.”
You awkwardly clear your throat, trying to prevent the absolute word vomit you knew was impending from leaving your mouth.
“Cara mia, I am free for you whenever you ask me to be. I was already thinking of asking if you would like to come to my dorm later, I miss being able to have you to myself without these idiotic buffoons crowding us,” the howling from one of the furs that sounded more like a cat screeching than a powerful beast accentuating her point.
“Okay, okay cool cool cool. I’ve got a class, so I’ll see you later?” you place a rushed kiss on her cheek as you practically trip over your own feet in your haste to separate yourself from Wednesday before you could embarrassingly ramble your way into revealing your plans for later.
‘Keep it together, damn.’
----
Exhaling softly, you adjust the black parcel in your hand and softly knock at the door.
Does she even like gifts? Yes, she showers you in them consistently, the Addams’ wealth allowing her to do so without a second thought – although you were well aware of how much she appreciated her upbringing, despite seeming as if she does not. But did she like getting them?
‘God, I fucking hope so’
 Before you could fall even further into the pit of self-doubt, the door swung open. 
If you thought you’d ever get used to seeing Wednesday in her oversized hoodie that reached her knees, paired with the softest pair of sweatpants you’ve ever seen, the ones she only wears around you, you were far from wrong. You would never get over how absolutely beautiful the girl looked, forever being shocked that she was yours. 
Trying to remember that you needed to breathe and that whilst it may be poetic to die because your girlfriend literally took your breath away, it was also humiliating. All she had to do was look at you and you felt like you were drowning.
Clearing your throat, you try to shake the thoughts of gayness from your mind. 
‘Time and a place, y/n, time and a place.’
“Hey, Wends,” you step into the room, her hand immediately holding onto your own as she pulls you towards her bed. 
“Y/N,” she murmurs before gently placing her lips on your own, it wasn’t sexual or overwhelming, it was just so goddamn soft and loving.
A dreamy sigh left your lips as she pulled away, pushing you to sit with your back against the headboard, already leaning down to place her head in your lap as she reaches for a book so ancient you were surprised it hadn’t already crumbled to dust. 
Her lack of words didn’t add to your mounting anxiety, you knew Wednesday like the back of your hand – apart from gift giving apparently – and knew that her actions always spoke louder than her words. Her immediate comfort in your presence and allowing herself to be vulnerable around you meaning more than anyone else would have been able to guess.
Yet, despite the bundle of adorableness Wednesday was being right now, you had a plan.
Gently gripping her hand that was stretched towards the book, “Wends, actually, I- okay. Phew. I have something for you, it's nothing big or like, lavish, I guess. I made it myself. And I know it’s not your style, but I made it way before we started dating for you,” you shake your head at yourself gripping the wrapped gift harder than you probably should. “But I thought since I made it for you, you should have it, right? Like a belated birthday gift. You don’t have  to like i-“
“Y/N, as much as I love when you ramble, I think you are getting slightly off point,” her slightly calloused hand coming to rest upon your cheek.
Without uttering another word you all but thrust the gift in her direction, eyes glued to her face as she gently unwraps the black ribbon that held it all together. 
As her eyes landed on what was covered by the dark paper, the usually comfortable silence becomes deafening as it slowly drags on, each second passing feeling as if there were nails clawing away at your skin.
Silence.
Silence.
More fucking silence.
Her hand pulled the brightly coloured fabric upwards, letting the knitted sweater hover between the two of you, the contrast between her dark clothing currently and the sparkly pink sweater she held in her hand making you realise what a stupid, illogical gift idea this had been. 
“Oh, God. Yeah. No. Bad idea, understood. No hard feelings, yeah?” you feel the all-too-familiar heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck. “I was just bored; it was a stupid thing to make. Hey, if anything we can give it to Enid, right? Uh, okay, I’ll just-“
You reached out to remove the object from her grasp, ready to fling it and yourself over the balcony. Before you could even let a fingertip run over the fabric, her hand grabbed onto your wrist, forcing your hand away from the bundle of pink fabric.
As she released your wrist, she finally opened her mouth. “You’re right in saying it is not my usual style or colour scheme, but I don’t hate it. It was made from your hands, and I will treasure it more than you will know.”
“You sure? You don’t have to say you like it if you don’t,” you pull your eyes from hers and instead focus on pulling at a piece of loose thread in your own knitted sweater.
“Y/N, I swear to you that I do not hate it. From this point on, it will be one of my most prized possessions,” she smirks lightly as she adds “even above Thing.”
A series of furious tapping from Thing comes from the inside of Wednesday’s desk at being referred to as a possession, leading you to raise a brow at the amused look that crosses her face at her trapped companion
“Ignore him. He is being punished for attempting to help Enid paint my nails a disgustingly bright array of colours whilst I was asleep”
“Oh, and I get away free after giving you the sweater, do I? Is The Wednesday Addams finally coming around on the colour pink?!” you tap her nose lightly. “My adorable little raven. Not so intimidating now, are we?”
“I love you, mon cher, but if you insist on teasing me then you can join Enid on her next trip to the lupin cages on the full moon.”
You scoff at the obviously empty threat before delicately pulling the macabre girl to lay her head in your lap, a pleased hum coming from the girl.
Wednesday, intimidating? Ha. Funny.
---
Never once had you expected Wednesday to actually wear the sweater. Well, maybe every now and then in the dorm when Enid was out, and you came over for the night. But in public? Never.
Whilst Wednesday may not care too much about her reputation, you knew that she absolutely adored the terror that she instilled in people with a simple look, the way people cowered when they crossed her path without even having to utter a word or raise a finger. It truly was delightful in the psychic’s eyes. To be feared so easily.
With that being said, the way that your heart almost screeched to a halt when Wednesday stepped out of one of Nevermore's large school vehicles on another of the seemingly never-ending trips into Jericho in attempts to stop the unwarranted prejudice the normies had against the outcast community. 
Her usual dark attire had been replaced with the slightly too big sweater you had gifted her, the vivid pink making her stand out more than she usually would. Still, that didn’t tamper the murderous glint she had in her eyes, nor did it prevent people from parting like the red sea when she began her walk towards you.
She took her place next to you, her face passive as if she wasn’t doing anything so completely out of the ordinary that outcasts and normies alike kept glancing in their direction.
Laughing, you pointedly looked at your girlfriend’s choice of clothing until you met her gaze. “Wends, I love the look, but you really don’t have to wear it just so I don’t feel bad.”
Knocking her shoulder with yours slightly, she shook her head. “I want to it. Apart from the joy I pull from seeing the looks of horror and confusion washing over people’s faces, I want people to know that I am yours and you are mine,” pulling her eyes away from yours, she surveyed the bustle of people surrounding you. “Besides, it is surprisingly comfortable… and it smells like you. So, no more commenting on the sweater, I want to get a quad before all of these imbeciles flood the Weathervane.”
“Whatever you say, my darling rainbow,” placing a kiss on her cheek. 
Tugging you along in a way that Wednesday found herself doing more often than not, she felt content. she had you by her side, looks of fear from strangers she did not even bother to acknowledge reminding her of her home, and the memory of Enid’s panicked face at actually thinking Wednesday’s skin was about to melt from her body at the pink sweater that she threw on. 
All was perfect in her eyes.
Until the overly brave Yoko Tanaka thought the pink garment was a sign from Satan himself that teasing Wednesday would be a good idea. The vampire may have been decades old but that by no means meant she understood or had any self-control. It was something she and Enid were trying to work on together. 
“Woah, Addams,” she called from behind the couple, “who the fuck had to wrestle you into that thing?  It looks like a unicorn threw up all over your ass,” she lowered her tinted glasses slightly as she glanced between the two of you. “Damn, Y/N, you really have her on a leash, huh?”
At the comment, you felt embarrassment creep up your neck at Yoko’s taunts and the snickers it pulled from the few outcasts brave enough to make a sound around Wednesday. Realistically, you knew Yoko’s words were more so intended to annoy Wednesday than anything, but that didn’t make the situation any less awkward for you as you stood glancing between the cocky vampire and your seething girlfriend – if you weren’t scared she was going to murder Yoko, you would’ve been laughing at how adorable she looked, being all rageful wrapped in bright pink.
Yet, before you could even think of pulling Wednesday away, she pulled her hand from yours with a speed that you weren’t even sure a human – human? Was she human? You didn’t even pretend to know what the Addams’ were at this point – and had Yoko pinned against the brick wall of the Weathervane, the taller girl's head smacking against the brick in a way that made numerous people watching the ordeal wince.
And, of course, because Wednesday is Wednesday she held up a freshly sharpened blade against the vampire's throat.
“I know that you vampires like to act as if you are above everyone else, and whilst I do regret leaving my stake at Nevermore, I also know that you bleed and that you feel pain just like any other being on the planet, immortal or otherwise,” Wednesday presses her dagger against the girls throat harder. “With that in mind, Tanaka, I suggest you take whatever asinine comments you had hoped to make and leave before I lose my restraint and decide to see just how deeply I will have to carve my blade into your skin before your healing abilities fail you. Is that understood?”
Yoko could only give a rushed nod of her head, worried that if she tried to speak the blade would cut her skin. 
“Good. Before you run away, you should know that unlike you and your ‘creatures of the night,’ I do not need dark clothing or those ridiculous glasses to be feared by others, so I shall wear whatever choice of clothing I desire. And considering this was made by Y/N, you should apologise, because as you know, if you so much as look at her in a less than enthusiastic way, I will carve your heart from your chest.”
After a second or two of intense eye contact, Wednesday releases Yoko and returns to your side with her hand back in yours as if nothing happened.
Walking backwards Yoko nodded so fast a human may have gotten whiplash, “Yeah, no, totally. Really cute sweater. Really, really cute. Good job Y/N, it’s very good. The knitting is… is cute. Great, even! Amazing. Just so- so perfect.” 
Wednesday felt a smirk pulling at her lips as she saw the vampire stumble over her own feet to put as much distance between herself and the Addams, calling for Enid once she was sure she wouldn’t be chased, or more accurately, hunted down.
Turning your attention to the girl beside you, your eyes darted around her body looking for any signs of injury. “You okay, Willa?” 
At seeing no visible injuries, you placed your hand against the cool skin of her neck and stared into her dark eyes.
“Are you asking if I am okay after having Yoko pinned against the wall, with my blade at her throat?” Wednesday raised an incredulous brow at you. “She should be glad she walked away with her skin intact.”
“Wednesday!” She is literally a vampire. You know, vampire? Immortal? Bloodthirsty? Gobble gobble on human flesh?”
Scoffing at your words, she began walking towards the Weathervane again – she would still refuse to admit she had a slight (major) addiction to caffeine. “Please. I am an Addams; she should have known better than to insult a gift from my beloved and expect to walk away without any consequences.”
Deciding that there was no point in trying to unravel whatever the hell being an ‘Addams’ meant exactly, you only smirked as she dragged you along. “Well, thank you for defending my honour, my oh-so-charming knight in shining pink armour.”
“Y/N, you do remember that I have a dagger on me, correct? Multiple, in fact.”
“Wends, we’ve spoken about the daggers. You do not need that many, you hardly even need one!” 
“As much as I adore you, my love, the daggers are here to stay.”
You roll your eyes, brushing past Wednesday as she holds the door open for you, Wednesday smirking at your reaction.
If Enid noticed how Wednesday had cleared one of the drawers in her closet to fill with the array of clothing you made for her, she didn’t mention it. Mostly because Yoko had filled her in with extreme detail about how sharp Wednesday’s blade was. 
Nope, she refused to wake up with the gothic girl holding a knife above her head, it had happened one too many times already.
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grimalkinmessor · 11 months ago
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BACK ON MY MATSULIGHT HANNIBAL AU BULLSHIT ✨✨✨
Because Light would be the perfect Hannibal; he's arrogant and well-dressed and well-liked and well-respected in his field. He's just as sadistic; just as lonely. Sayu is his Mischa. His tragedy one of a escaped prisoners taking revenge on his police chief father with only he and Sayu escaping, only to have misery befall them both yet again. He eats criminals instead of the rude—and his favorite organs to take are hearts 🫀
"I do so admire your courage. I think I'll eat your heart."
The biggest difference would be that Light sees himself as someone righteous and good rather than being aware of himself as a calamity like Hannibal is.
And Matsuda, oohh Matsuda. He wouldn't be the perfect Will Graham—but he's the perfect vessel for corruption. He's already a killer after all, if a lawful one. All Light needs to do is help reveal to Matsuda that he enjoys it. Why else would he put himself in a position to kill?
Ryuk is in an odd position. He is at once one of the criminals that attacked Light's family and also the one who helped he and Sayu escape. When Light killed the rest of them, he let Ryuk live to repay the debt. Ryuk likes to hang around him like a stray cat—and much like a cat, he has an excellent sense of smell. When Matsuda starts losing time, well... let's just say it's not long before Light knows the reason why.
Matsuda isn't as intelligent as Light, but he knows what it's like to watch the light leave someone's eyes. He knows what warm blood feels like on his hands. He knows the sound of someone taking their last breath under his hands. He has more confirmed kills than anyone else on the force—and each one has been law-written righteous.
How could Light resist?
Matsuda does so enjoy his cooking, after all.
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tank-of-hocotate31 · 7 months ago
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Finally Introducing my Baldi's Basics OCs!!
My minor obsession over baldi's basics got so bad i made 2 whole ocs (i don't have plans to make a third one rn but who knows) but here's some minor info on my two ocs, Gorjin and Mother Depth.
Lets start off with the low poly boy himself! Gorjin! 🎺
⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙
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♪● Gorjin does not have a full name, hes just Gorjin.
♪● Gorjin is theorized to be about 5'6, similar in height to Dr Reflex.
♪● Gorjin actually has a music note necklace and a propeller tail, evidence photos below :
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♪● Gorjin's tail actually spins when he either gets excited or when he plays his trumpet.
♪● Gorjin's limbs float, they cannot bend by any circumstance, his limbs just move as 1 piece, not 3 pieces connected.
♪● Gorjin wasn't exactly born, he just "spawned" into existence.
♪● Gorjin actually has a "mother" but they're a faded memory then upon remembering, it makes Gorjin uneasy.
♪● Gorjin has a weird way of speaking, a quick listen to his text-to-speech voice and see for yourself -
♪● Gorjin's the only music teacher in the school, usually being able to be heard from the music room, he's an excellent trumpet player.
♪● Gorjin's a bit of a scardy cat-like shy guy, even bringing his trumpet everywhere for emotional support, anxiety is wacky at best.
♪● Gorjin's actually agender, meaning bro got no gender nor care for the absence of it.
♪● Gorjin's also a gay asexual adult, even though Gorjin has no confirmed age, he doesn't even know himself, and even the lack of a birthday is baffling, him going by He/Him is also head-scratching.
♪● Gorjin loves his personal space but he does have minor separation anxiety.
♪● Gorjin can accidentally burst your ear drums with his trumpet out of fear if you come up to him a bit too rapidly, so be best careful to slow down when you pass near him.
⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙☆⩙
Alright! now onto Mother Depth! 📎
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◈ Mother Depth is a heavily advanced robot modeled after a female physics teacher who was a revolutionary member of the math ingenuity throughout the 80's.
◈ She goes by She/Her, since she was programmed to know she's female, even though she's technically agender.
◈ She was built to be 7'8, a request from the female physicist she was modeled after.
◈ She has no age, but it's theorized that her development in construction and programming took 6-8 years.
◈ The metal pigtails she has on her welled-on metal hair actually can sorta coil around, they do twitch sometimes, kind of like an animal's ears. they don't go down when she's sad, she's in fact emotionless due to her programming, she's a machine, not a human.
◈ Her mouth does not move, its stuck as a smile, in fact, her mouth is just a speaker mesh that hides her voice box, here is an example of her voice -
◈ The woman Mother Depth was modeled after was named "Abigale R Schnauzer", and was built by 6 different engineers and programmed by 4 different coders/scientists.
◈ Mother Depth does have horns actually, they're are more like sharpened horns that come out of her hair when she detects a threat, it's more like when someone raises their voice a little too angrily, example photos down here -
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◈ By some unknown bug in her program, she has a bit of a motherly nick in her interactions with her "favorite acquaintances"
◈ Surprisingly, Mother Depth is able to mimic voices or sounds when you ignore her, she uses this as a taunting tactic,
◈ Mother Depth loves attention, but when you ignore her, that's when she uses her sound-mimicking abilities.
◈ She's a bit of a sadistic one, but does not really harm you physically, just mentally, its most possibly another of her multiple bugs in her old system.
◈ The symbol on her choker is supposed to be a circle with a X. (but being honest i couldn't find that shit on Roblox for the life of me ;-;)
◈ She was scrapped for 2 years, just collecting dust once [REDACTED] found her and fixed her up to sell her somewhere.
◈ However, there is a way to actually stun her, a simple BSODA can at least stun here for a good amount of time, like a whole minute.
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Ok that's the two of them! gosh, this post took almost 3 days to make... thanks for at least reading all this! and know if you ever wanna draw one of them you are fully allowed to! even your own headcannons! i love when people give my ocs headcannons its so funny! but yeah that's all guys! love yall!! ❤
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finedinerofmoths · 1 year ago
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Actually hold on I can't sleep so let me tell you what I think about Kevin, the smiling god, Strexcorp, and how it all ties together.
(rant incoming)
So! The podcast of WTNV contradicts itself sometimes as to who founded the congregation of the smiling god, and I find it interesting! (I'll try to to source my findings but I'm kinda trash at that so sorry in advance.)
First things first, it was before strex for sure. This is confirmed by the episode with past Kevin and I think a priest of the congregation actually? He talks about smiling, uses friendly language, and overall seems like a happy guy pre-strex in a somewhat similar fashion to during-strex Kevin. Personally I love the contrast, but that's not the point whoops. And after his disconnect with strex, there are still many! people that worship the smiling god.
Here's what I think, and take it with a grain of salt because I hadn't read any of the books or seen the live shows (wiki fandom is my best friend on this), but it seems like the corruption of a religion to further a social/political goal on strex's part.
I refuse to get too political on this but my thoughts on this was the OG religion was positive and harmless, centered around a more spiritual belief of goodwill, optimism, and respecting life (maybe the energy of every living thing via blood and bones and the beauty of just... Life and living thing? Only to turn into a blood and bone fixation? Hm.) Smiling has been proven to help your brain make happy chemicals, and laughing is literally contagious! I read a post that while science is Night Vale's religion, religion is Desert Bluff's science, and I agree. It makes sense that a guy like pre-strex Kevin (as little as I know him) would understand and appreciate these values. Hell, I even think cutting a gaslow smile into yourself could've been an original thing, some religions are like that man, especially not surprising in WTNV.
Strex is obviously sadistic, faux-friendly, manipulative and gaslighting, etc etc etc. It wouldn't be the first time a company or group would use and corrupt a popular religion to seize control, and brainwashing is how cults work! That mixed with torture and meds, no wonder strex employees were so loyal. And they most likely used his own religion (albeit an essentially bastardized version) to condition him. By telling him pain is good (yikes) and "crushing the weak" to paraphrase Kevin himself is all part of this religion HE FOUNDED, they could've easily twisted their own virtues into his. Despite being a prophet, I don't think Kevin has had contact with it for a while now.
However, the smiling god is obviously malevolent, I am not sure about that bit. It either drive him just a bit mad upon first meeting it (valid tbh), it killed him but didn't?? because what is logic in night vale honestly, or somehow tricked him into believing it was a more benevolent presence. Or, maybe he worshipped it because why not, Cecil was totally ready to adhere to the demands of the glow cloud, the distant prince, all of them due to a healthy dose of terror and cosmic fear. Kevin might've gotten luck of the draw.
A thing I don't know yet that's driving me crazy is Kevin met the smiling god via oak door the first time, and it makes me wonder if the desert otherworld is it's domain or something?? And dbt is there now, just thinkin' thoughts about that.
He's shown to be a bit controlling, opinionated and stubborn even before strex (only heartless people don't like cats, Cecil!) and I think strex amplified these traits to terribly negative proportions. As well as using his own trauma, maybe? He compares his father to a thing always watching (in the walls, I think?), the sun to an overbearing father, let's not even mention the burning hot caramel situation. If his father was strict and abusive, it might be easier to say "hey, wasn't that actually a good thing? All that pain, what a great dad!" And turn his brain into a functional positive feedback loop.
Sorry for the whole essay, ack, but I've been thinking about this way too much lately. To summarize, smiling god came first via Kevin, Strex ruined everything as per usual, and religion and science and this podcast are soooo flipping interesting!!!! Okay thanks for coming to my Ted talk, Mothy out
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scribophantasma · 1 year ago
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The Phantom Rabbit Ch.1
After witnessing that scene with the demon and witch, the white rabbit ran out of the cottage and into the snowy forest as fast as it could go. 
You were so scared and confused that the rabbit instincts took over, and they urged you to run until you couldn’t anymore. While you were doing so, the scenery changed from snowy forest to crowded, cobblestone, streets. Your rabbit instincts were going haywire at this point because nowhere was safe!
Everywhere you turned, you were nearly stepped on, ran over, and kicked by accident! It wasn’t until you darted into an alleyway to hide that your human rationale regained control. You flopped over and just lay there, panting in exhaustion as your mind processed everything.
‘Holy crap! What the heck was that?! What’s going on?! Where is this place?!’
You examined the white paws that replaced your hands, and touched the ear that flopped over your face. Yup, they were definitely yours. Craning your neck, you examined the cottontail behind you that confirmed your suspicions. ‘WHY AM I A FREAKING RABBIT?!’
Suddenly, a high pitched squeal invaded your poor, ultra-sensitive ears and then a pair of hands snatched you up and squished you close. 
“Milady! You mustn’t run into dark alleyways!” A female voice panicked. 
“Paula, I told you to call me Lizzy! And I’m alright. Look at this bunny rabbit that I found. IT’S SOOOO CUTE!”
‘My ears….’
“I can’t wait to take it home and show it to mother, father and Edward!”
You squirmed until your head was free from the sea of pink that was the girl’s dress. Then you stared in shock at her face. 
It was freaking Elizabeth from Black Butler! 
"Milady,"
"IT'S LIZZY!"
"Sorry. Lizzy, you know how your mother is about animals you find on the streets. Also, the dogs and cats would make a meal out of the poor rabbit. You have to let it go."
"BUT I DON'T WANT TO!" Shrieked the pink banshee. She proceeded to throw a tantrum as she pressed your body to one side of her face.
"Mother gets to breed her hounds, Father has his ugly Persian cats and Edward always adds to his horse collection. All I want is ONE cute pet! It's not fair! WAAAAAH!!!" 
You stared deadpanned at Paula with your ears pinned back as the maid tried in vain to calm the crybaby. The little noble wasn't even crying for reals- otherwise your fur would be drenched in her tears. How could Paula not see that Elizabeth was pulling off crocodile tears like the spoilt, privileged, little brat she is? 
"Milady, please! Do not cry… The rabbit will be fine… Mylady, you're causing a scene! Please stop… I know! Let's go shopping! That always makes you feel better. We have to get a present for your fiance anyways."
Suddenly Elizabeth stopped 'crying' and exclaimed, "THAT'S IT!"
You winced and held your head in your paws. 'AHHH MY EARS!!!'
"I'll give the bunny to Ciel! Then I can visit both Phantomhive manor, and the cute bunny whenever I want!"
"What a splendid idea!" Paula agreed. Then she took out her stupid bells. "Jingle, jingle!"
You groaned. 'So damn annoying!' 
"Let's go prepare his gift!" Said Elizabeth, and then she sprinted off with you in her arms.
"Ah! Wait for me, milady!" Paula cried.
———————
Elizabeth took you to a place called 'Le Choyé Pampered Pets Botique'. You raised a figurative eyebrow at the name because it said the same word twice. 
After shouting excitedly at the workers about how you were a present for her fiance, they immediately set to work to make you 'even cuter'. 
It was torture! 
First, you were nuked with rose scented perfume- which got in your eyes. You were so preoccupied with rubbing them that you were unable to fight off what happened next: a thorough brushing with a bristly brush. Were they using a cactus?! You squealed in pain, but everyone in the store aww'ed at the sounds. Damn sadists!  Before you could recover from that experience, you were strangled with an obnoxiously large, dark pink bow tie. You immediately gagged and tugged on it with your paws. While you were doing so, someone picked you up and stuffed you inside a suffocating box. 
'They didn't even put any air holes, what the hell?!' 
Getting on your back, you tried to kick the box open with your hind feet, but the box had been wrapped up tight. 
Feeling light headed, you rolled over again and clawed at a corner of the box until you breached the cardboard and wrapping paper. Finally, some air! The bow on your neck wasn't helping though. 
You continued to tug on the fabric as someone picked up the box and moved you elsewhere. Based on the muffled sounds and bumpy sensations, Elizabeth and Paula were now inside a carriage.
You tuned out the conversation they were having and dwelled in your own thoughts after finally loosening the constrictor grip on that ribbon. 
You thought back to the events that brought you here. How a portal suddenly opened beneath you, and sucked you through… The quick, but painful transformation from human to rabbit… How the demonic creature attacked that lady, over a soul. Said soul definitely being yours. 
That explains how you got here, but why were you transformed into a rabbit? 
Also, you don't want to get eaten by a demon! From what you understand, Sebastian is starving himself to make his meal (Ciel) more tasty. You're not that desperate to sell your soul… Heck, you'd enjoy being human again for a few moments before paying the devil's due. Would Sebastian eat you on the spot?
You recall that he claims to have grown tired of devouring every soul in sight, indicating that a contract is not even needed for him to eat souls. Does being in a contract keep Sebastian from eating other souls?
If that is the case, what if he feeds you to Ciel- like, straight up serving him roast rabbit for supper to merge your souls together?! Your fur bristled and you shivered at the thought.
But what if he doesn't sense your soul?
Should you tell them (or, find a way to tell them)? If you somehow manage to convince them that you're trapped in this rabbit form, you could get their help. After that fiasco in town where everything tried to unintentionally kill you, there was no way you would survive on your own. Unlike you, they have resources, powers, and opposable thumbs. They could help you find a way to change back, and return to your own world.
But like his demon servant, Ciel never helps anyone for free. He'll exploit you for his personal gain and use you like a pawn in chess. Heck, he lied and made an empty promise to Snake, just to keep him under his employ. What could you possibly offer him in your state- cuddles and snuggles?
Should you keep this to yourself? It'll be hard and dangerous without help. On the flipside, everything else is just as dangerous.
You're damned if you do, and damned if you don't. That is the worst place to be.
What other option is there- do nothing and leave everything to the hands of fate? 
You pondered on these thoughts as the carriage kept bouncing and bumping, making you collide with every wall in the box.
This was going to be a looooong ride.
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dubbidubbida · 8 months ago
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Another one
I KNOW this chart is for OCs but I had to make one for Belial.
There is severe scarcity of Belial content on Tumblr.
Elaborating on my choices below 👇
⚠️Huge wall of text incoming!!⚠️
For aesthetics, I chose a picture of someone's back with those black hand markings. I interpret it as the taking of Belial's wings (I headcanon he originally had angel wings 🪽 but were ripped off by Lucilius🤬) and I also interpret it as sexual abuse. Just think about it bro. Like almost every aspect of a primal beast is chosen by its creator, at least the prominent aspects.
Belial was made to be a seductress, which is a charming part of himself imo but the bad part about it is that during the beginning of his existence, it was also his job to be one, for who? I'm thinking for the Astrals.
My impression of the astrals so far is that they're all psychopathic dipshits, which was even confirmed in Heart of the Sun ( GBF anniversary event), that they don't see primal beasts as anything other than tools (according to Raziel). Belial had a purpose that couldn't be shared with anybody else, which was to incite a rebellion. To cover up for it, he had to have another purpose. Which was 1) being Lucifer's adjunctant, and 2) being the Astrals' sex toy.
Belial was an exquisite creation, like a demo of Lucifer (cause they both are similar regarding power). And of course, a primal beast needs to be approved by the council of astrals before usage. Lucilius could've proposed both the functions of being Lucifer's adjunctant and tracking machine, and to make it more appealing, a toy with endless stamina that won't break after being used 😂👎👎 (I imagine the astrals like Greek gods who plucked humans and 'used' them, given their sadistic nature). So Belial, both visually appealing and with an alluring personality, would be the perfect unbreakable toy. A tool and a toy, 2 in 1! Approved!! Awful. A toy who won't fight back, a toy who can't say no, a toy who won't break... ughhh. Primal beasts are obviously sentient, despite their inability to reach human complexity. He was literally built to be unable to connect with others, to be sincere, or to just live a normal life like the other archangels have adapted to. That's cruel 😭
So yeah, I don't care if Belial was made to enjoy what they do to him no matter what, I still consider it sexual abuse because Belial is sentient.
Lmao ok that was for aesthetic picture #1 ☠️ Let's proceed with the rest. For the second aesthetic picture, I selected a white snake wrapped around an arm. The snake represents Belial, the serpent. And the arm represents Lucilius. If you're familiar with WMTSB, you are well aware of how tightly Belial is wrapped around Lucilius' finger, and only hangs on tighter and tighter to the man who named him "worthless" lol. (One of the meanings of "Belial" is worthless).
And the third aesthetic picture I've chosen is that of a snake in applussy. The image represents temptation and lust. Pretty much it. You know the drill, Belial serpent, and the apple of temptation.
Now, we have the favorites. By favorites, it means: favorite color, favorite movie/show, and favorite animal.
For his favorite color, I just went with purple cause that's one of his main colors. It's just a headcanon. He changed his white, gold, and red uniform for a black and purple one. He must like purple🤷‍♀️
Next, favorite movie, I didn't know honestly. But he strikes me as someone who'd like the absurdity of 1980s horror films. So I chose the Shining. Maybe he'd like it.
And for his favorite animal, I think he'd like cats. They probably remind him of Cilius. Same gaze, same personalities, meow. And it's just cute to imagine him with cats. 🐈‍⬛
Character inspirations. LMAO. So the first one is that dude Lucifel from El Shaddai. Let's face it, Belial is that guy but with a huge feather boa and huge tits chest and meaty thighs. Massive upgrade tbh
Next up is obviously, Belial the demon. I just put that cuz yk, the name. No need for more explanation.
Then there's the snake of Eden. Belial is the serpent luring others to take a bite out of the apple 🍎 we know this.
The songs are more like what I think of him rather than what I believe applies to him. But at the same time most of those apply to him imo. I don't needa explain just check out the songs yourself, you might like some😁 And that's it.
And finally, there's Lucifer. I know Satan was the snake as well but I'm separating them for the sake of interpretation. By that I mean, Belial is both the serpent and the fallen angel. If you know what I'm saying.
💕Thanks to everyone who read this wall of text💕
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cassiopeiagarcia · 1 year ago
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Wrote this for the Drug Cartel AU @cheshire-shuntaro created. Cass is a painter with perhaps too much imagination? A little help from above? Hope you like it. ♡
'He wants to do... what?'
An unplanned explosion of laughter, tears running down her cheeks. Dark eyes that looked for confirmation in her older sister's features, not believing what she was hearing. Cass had always known her brother-in-law was mad, but this... this really was something else. Stealing an Andean Cat.
'At least one of us finds it funny.'
'Come on! You have to admit it is kind of hilarious. I wish it had been my idea...'
But no joy could be found in Andro's perfect face. Not since that day in which she had answered "Sí, quiero" to the priest's question: do you, Andrómeda García, take Takeru Danma to be your wedded husband and live together in holy matrimony?
Worst mistake of her fucking life, if you ask me.
After wishing her a good night, Andro had left, ready to endure Hatter's emotional torture for one more night, the silence that haunted their bedchamber. He was fucking on the side, of course. Everybody knew it, but pretended they didn't; a blindfold covering their eyes, not seeing the honey-blonde woman sitting on his lap late at night, drinking from his cup, kissing his lips. That didn't stop him, however, from trying to get it on with his wife (or better yet, his appendage, because she was nothing more than that), if only because of his desire to get her pregnant, even if she wanted to claw his eyes out and spit in his face every time he was near.
But a King needed a Heir. Even his kingdom was made of nothing but white powder and counterfeit money.
Cass shook her head, feeling, once more, terribly sorry for her sister. It was not the first time thoughts of running away plagued her mind, but she knew they weren't realistic. She could get out, no problem. Hérc? Most likely. But the Queen was under constant vigilance, even if the only thing she did was tend to her garden. Blue, blue, blue.
The blonde woman went back to the painting she was working on.
A dreadful scene; a beheading. Her father, Fernando García, the executioner, holding the blade. Behind him, Orión, with sadistic eyes, capillaries bursting. Her sister, Andrómeda, the executed. Dressed in white; like a martyr, a symbol of purity, even if she had a child clinging to her chest. No tragic face, but defiance, on her expression. In the crowd, Hatter, with a smile. Aguni, horrified. Hérc and her, screaming in terror.
Was nobody going to stop this?
Could they not see how unfair this was?
After thinking about it for a few seconds, she grabbed the thinnest brush she had and dipped it in paint. Stroke after stroke, she formed a figure. A white rabbit. With its long ears and soft tail, looking at the scene knowingly. A wedding band on one of its paws, engraved with letters she couldn't make out. Did it say Fate, maybe? Next to it, a mask with six eyes and a red sigil. A card, the ace of Hearts.
Why? Divine inspiration.
A deity speaking into her ear, over the murmur of the wind: the tale is not yet over.
You can still win.
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saturnbubblez · 8 months ago
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Listen I’m an avid Crowfeather hater too but I want a Crowstar (as long as they don’t magically change his entire personality). I want a Crowstar bc
A) we’d finally have a bitchy leader who we KNOW is gonna be bitchy, and who could cause problems and it actually be in character.
B) I get a sweet little sadistic kick out of forcing the guy who has two dead mates to live for an extremely long time. Think abt how interesting it would be to have a leader who is just fully ready to keel over bc his lovers are already dead and he’s been alive for far too long to wanna stick around. BONUS POINTS if we get no confirmation that Leafpool and Feathertail even care atp. Bro could be a sucky leader bc he’s too busy thinking abt his dead lovers, finally die, and find out they fully didn’t wanna be with him when he comes to Starclan.
C) it’ll give him time to grow into a more actually enjoyable character. Like I wanna see how he handles that much power. I know for sure it’s gonna be hella awkward for him to have to deal with code breaking. I hope he has to deal with a situation in which one of his cats gets with a medicine cat or gets with his medicine cat and he ends up defending them and someone goes “of course YOU’D think breaking that part of the code is okay” and it’s awkward and uncomfortable for everyone involved.
Idk it’s the middle of the night maybe I’ll change my mind tomorrow BAHAHAHA
on the positive hand: when crowfeather dies the evil will be defeated. harestar probably only needs to hold on a few more books until he's too old to be leader. he's getting on in years. he can go at any time.
on the negative hand: hey guys who is ready for the inevitable scene once crowfeather dies where he and leafpool kiss and marry in starclan and she devotes her entire afterlife to being crowfeather's heaven wife despite how much better she deserves. who's ready for this one guys. who can't wait
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melancholymetropolis · 2 years ago
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Unholy
pairing(s): Demon!Bakugo x HumanSacrifce!Reader
synopsis: Y/N is settling a nasty divorce dispute with her soon-to-be ex. Out of the blue, he calls her to "reconcile" and "put aside their difference". Less than an hour later, she was naked, tied to a bed, and offered to a twelve-foot-tall Demon Emperor, Bakugo Katsuki.
warnings: Rivals to Lovers. mention of roofies/drink tampering. reincarnation. a dash of a slice of life. the ml + fl argue a lot. bakugo is a simp. grumpy + sunshine. lowkey a royalty au. highkey monster fucking. cat + mouse game. minor grammar errors (will clean up a little later)
w.c: 9.2k
a/n: never say I don't love y'all.
“Drink up,” my soon-to-be ex-husband said, practically pushing the glass of wine into my face. 
I took the glass hesitantly and looked into it. There had been some sort of powdery residue floating on the top of it. I swirled it around a few times before setting it down on the table. I looked across the surface, past the flickering candles, and into his blue eyes. There was something off about the whole ordeal. My husband had never been the “romantic type”. He never made me dinner, even when we just started dating. He would usually order from a really expensive restaurant and call it a day. He never bothered to go the extra mile of putting on a plate, either. He made it clear that he was going to be as mediocre as possible, and I was supposed to be happy with it.
I never understood why I married him or what I saw in him originally. Maybe it was the consistency I craved or how easy it was being with him. He never challenged me in any way or stimulated me for that matter. We only slept together a handful of times in our three years together, but that didn’t bother me all too much. I was simply too busy with housework or my job to accumulate any sort of sexual desire. Yet, I could tell my spouse didn’t feel the same way. In recent months, I have noticed a change in his appearance. He started to shave more frequently, changed his hairstyle, and even bought some new clothes. He smiled whenever he got text messages and would sneak off when his phone rang. I even found a lipstick stain on his collar when doing his laundry, which all but confirmed that he was cheating.
I could deal with the lack of effort on his part. 
I could deal with practically being his maid.
I could even deal with him always “borrowing” money from my savings account.
But, what I couldn’t deal with was being the “other woman” in my marriage.
I filed for divorce shortly after that and moved out of the apartment.
It had been three months since everything happened, and he still hadn’t signed the goddamned papers.
“No, thank you,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m not in a drinking mood.”
“O-Oh okay,” he stammered, sinking back into his chair.
“I came here because you said there had been some sort of emergency with our shared property,” I explained while pushing the plate of burnt pasta from in front of me. “It wasn’t my intention to have dinner with you.”
“I understand,” he replied, sipping his wine. “You probably still hate me.”
“I don’t care enough to hate you, John,” I said, rising from my seat. “If there is nothing else, I’ll be going now.”
“Y/N! Wait!” He called after me. “Don’t go!”
“If you have anything else to say to me, please notify my lawyer,” I deflected whilst grabbing my purse from the couch. “Have a good night.”
The alarm bells in my head were ringing, and I needed to make my way out of there quickly.
As I was turning around to take my leave, I felt a slight prick on the side of my neck. I raised my hand to the area and pressed it against it. I brought my finger to my face. There had been a clear liquid oozing from the area. I couldn’t immediately detect what it could’ve been, but I felt my body begin to sway on its own. I looked up at John, a medical syringe in his hands and a sadistic look on his face.
“Why do you always have to be so fucking difficult, Y/N?” He said, dropping the syringe on the ground.
“W-What are y-you talking about?” I slurred, trying to grab onto the couch.
“All you had to you was drink the wine,” John admitted. 
“W-Wha. . .” 
“Now, I have to drag you there myself.”
My hand slipped when trying to hold onto the couch, and my entire body crashed onto the floor. The room was spinning. The sounds were coming in and out of range. I could hear John say something, but I couldn’t piece the words together. My body started to feel tingly and numb all over. I could feel John pulling against my arms, but I couldn’t tell where he was taking me. He was still ranting about something, but, again, I had no idea what he was saying. I could feel my shirt ride up a little as John dragged me against the floor. It was only when I felt a familiar fuzzy sensation that I knew where we were. In our bedroom. Even with my mind half-conscious, I knew the feeling of my thousand-dollar designer rug. Part of me was still surprised that he kept it after all this time. Yet, another part of me knew never to expect so much of John. He would never make the effort to rearrange anything in our home.
But he could make the effort to cheat on me.
My eyelids grew heavier by the second. I was struggling to keep them open. 
All I could do was pray to God that whatever he had planned for me wouldn’t be too bad. I hoped that I would make it out of this apartment alive. If not, I would haunt the bastard for the rest of his miserable life.
My eyes fluttered closed, and darkness filled my vision.
“What do we have here?” A deep, throaty voice spilled into my ears. I could feel its hot breath fan my relaxed face and his eyes piercing my skin. “What a pretty little thing you are.”
I did not recognize the voice, nor would I ever. It didn’t sound human. Its pitch was far too deep, too robust for any human to make. It sounded like it belonged to something from another world or dimension. The alarm bells in my head had switched over to sirens. Every hair on my body was standing up, and I could feel sweat begin to dot my forehead. I knew, without a doubt, that there was some kind of eldrich terror on the other side of my eyelids, and I was not ready to face it. I could feel my tears well up and gather in my lashes. Murmurs spilled from my lips as I started to at the restraints binding my limbs.
“There’s no need to be afraid, little rabbit,” the monster purred. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”
“I. . . I don’t believe you,” I whimpered, my eyes still shut.
“So she speaks,” it chuckled. “Wonderful.”
The soft surface— a bed— dipped a little on each side of me. Right near my mid-section. I could feel the heat radiating from its body. It came in slow, hot waves. It was almost like feeling the sun on your skin during the summer. It painted every inch of my skin— wait. I could feel it all over my body. From my legs and arms to my breasts and womanhood. My eyes snapped open, and I immediately looked down. I could the soft candlelight reflected onto my smooth legs. It danced up my oiled thighs and chubby stomach to my ample bosoms. I could see the brown nipples sitting pretty atop the mounds. Just inches above me was a pair of thighs, closely resembling tree trunks, straddling my waist. They were covered in tight leather pants, outlining every muscle. Just above the thighs was a pale torso with rippling abs. Far too many for me to count. Followed by a wide chest and broad shoulders. The muscles in his arms were almost the size of my thighs, and one of its hands could easily cover my entire face. 
His jawline was sharp as nails, and his lips were full. He had two pairs of crimson eyes and horns. They added an extra foot to his massive stature despite being slightly curved at the base. The creature had blonde hair that pointed in every direction and mostly fell in its eyes. Under any other circumstances, I could’ve easily been swooned by his ruggedly handsome face. 
“Like what you see, little rabbit?” he smirked.
“Who are you?” I asked, pulling the restraints. “What do you want with me?”
“Ah, so your husband didn’t tell you,” the creature said, resting on his heels. “How unfortunate.”
“Tell me what?” I questioned. 
“He sold your soul,” it replied nonchalantly. “To me.”
“What?” I exclaimed. 
“Yeah, I was pretty shocked, too,” the creature confessed. “I mean, look at you. You’re any man’s wet dream. Thick in all the right places. A seductive, deep voice—”
"What exactly are you gonna do to me?" I interjected, gripping the restraints tighter. 
"Well, your husband was pretty adamant about getting rid of you," the creature replied. "He signed a death contract to get you out of this dimension."
It could’ve been his dismissive demeanor or his obvious attraction to me, but whatever fear I had previously felt was slowly melting away to make room for confusion. John had been the kind of person to hire personal chefs and cleaning staff to avoid the responsibilities of managing a house. He would have his assistant buy me anniversary presents rather than buy one himself. He was a man who went out of his way to put minimal effort into our marriage, yet he dared to sell me to a twelve-foot demon from hell. I could feel the anger pool within my being. 
The creature above me inhaled deeply. "Your rage is oozing from your pores and dancing within my nostrils," he chuckled. "It has been so long since I smelled something so sweet.".
"Um, Mr. Demon?"
"Bakugo, sweetness," he corrected. "You may call me by my surname, Bakugo."
"Okay. . . Bakugo," I hesitated. "Would you mind untying me and giving me some clothes? I'm feeling pretty. . . exposed at the moment."
A deep, rumbling chuckle erupts from his throat as rose from the bed. "Your body is too precious to be covered with garments. But, since I am in a generous mood, I'll grant your request."
With the snap of his finger, I was no longer tied to the bed. My body has been positioned in the far corner of the room, furthermore from the door. I was standing up, facing the creature that was less than a foot away from me. He seemed even bigger from that angle. His horns were practically scraping the ceiling. Bakugo looked at me with such indescribable hunger that it made shivers trail down my spine. I looked down at my feet, desperately trying to break the tension between us, yet I was a little shocked by what I had on. 
I wasn't wearing any of my clothes, but something a little more unique, to say the least.
The dress was black and tight. It hugged every inch of my body while highlighting the parts that were "flattering" to men. It had a deep neckline that brought attention to my cleavage. The leather fabric gave the short dress an uncomfortable stiffness. The skirt barely covered my ass and strained at the thigh section. The six-inch patent leather stilettos made my legs even longer. My wrists were covered in gold bangles, and my hands were covered in rings made of lavish stones. 
"Bakugo, what is this?" I asked, inspecting the jewelry. "Why am I dressed like this?"
"As I said earlier, your husband signed a death contract," he informed me. "He used your life as collateral for the deal he made with me a little while ago."
"Why would he make a deal with you in the first place?" 
"He used to clean money for the mafia a few years before he met you."
"Holy shit."
"And like the selfish idiot he was, he stole a small fortune from them."
"How much?"
"Close to fifty million."
"Holy shit!" I gasped. "Did he have a fucking death wish?"
"The mafia seemed to think so, and they actively started to hunt him," the demon continued. "As a final attempt to save his pathetic life, he summoned me. Bakugo Katsuki, Emperor of the Underworld." 
At that moment, I could feel my heart drop to my stomach. Bakugo was a Samurai turned Emperor in the fourteenth century. He was appointed to the throne by Emperor Go-Daigo, who was awed by his fighting skills and his grit. The Emperor birthed no sons during his reign, so he adopted Bakugo and turned him into a crown prince. He was known to be exceedingly cruel and had a nasty temper. All kinds of stories supported these kinds of accusations. Like the one about him feeding his esquire to a tiger after he looked at the Empress a little too long. Or another about him hanging a war general by his ankles for challenging his judgment. He had the entire war counsel watch as the blood rushed to his head and ended up killing him.
Not only that,  he managed to be a notorious bachelor. Rumored to have had three wives and ten concubines during his prime.
As the legend goes, the devil himself was awed by Emperor Bakugo's lavish lifestyle and offered him a position in hell once he died. The Emperor managed to work his way up the ranks, ultimately taking the Devil’s position once he retired. By the end of everything, Bakugo Katsuki was the ruler of all sin and could manipulate anyone to do his bidding. He was even more dangerous dead than he was alive.
A cocky smirk fell onto his lips as he brought his face closer to mine. "Pretty impressive, huh?" He said as if reading my mind.
"Y-yeah," I stammered, swallowing the lump in my throat. 
"No need to be afraid of me, little rabbit," he said while tucking a braid behind my ear. "I already told you that I do not plan on harming you in any way."
"Then what do you plan on doing with me?" Fear still licking my being and making my hands shake gently.
"Allow me to finish the story, sweetness," he replied. "You'll find out by the end."
"Okay."
"I granted John temporary immunity from the mob in exchange for another life. There's a balance between these things. A life for a life, if you will," he continued. "The person has to be pure, almost incapable of sin. He encountered many girls that fit the description, but being the rotten individual he is, John managed to corrupt them. Making them greedy and money hungry just like him. That was until he met you. A wealthy physician from a rich family and lots of money in the bank. You are as sweet as pie and quite as easy on the eyes. You became his safety net. He didn't have to work too hard if he didn't want to. He never has to put any effort into the relationship since you are already too busy. It was a perfect union. Until he discovered the life insurance policy."
My eyes widened. "How did he find out about that?"
"Snooping through your mail," Bakugo shrugged. "It was then that you became more valuable dead than alive."
"So, a couple of million, and he's willing to put me on the chopping block?"
"Not at first," the demon responded. "But you decided to divorce him, completely stripping any chance he would’ve had to obtain that money. Since you two signed a prenuptial agreement with an infidelity clause, John was entitled to none of your money at the very end."
 Anger started to rise in my being once more. The sheer amount of entitlement he had was simply outstanding. He was the one who cheated. He was the one who emotionally checked out the marriage first. Yet, instead of acknowledging his mistake and moving forward, he went under the table to try and get me killed. 
"That fucking bastard!" I said aloud, balling my fists so tight my knuckles turned white.
"Yeah," Bakugo replied. "Your husband's a real peach."
"So the death contract," I stated, beginning to piece it together. "He signed it to repay the debt he owed to you and to get the money in my insurance policy?"
"Bingo!" 
"This greedy motherfucker!" I growled. "I cannot believe him!"
"Truly a greedy bastard," Bakugo agreed, nodding his head.
I paused.  "Wait. But what does that mean for me? Are you saying you're going to kill me?"
A wide smile appeared on Bakugo's face. "Not quite. Maybe even the opposite, if you think about it."
"I'm confused."
"I'm going to make you my Empress, little rabbit."
Bakugo’s dimension was surprisingly tame for being an extension of hell. It had a bright pink sky and crimson mountains lining the outside perimeter of the area. On the far edge of a secluded village was his castle. From my minimal knowledge of Japanese history, it was loosely inspired by the Bitchu Matsuyama Castle— the one that Bakugo most likely lived in when he was alive. The ceilings were taller than the original, probably to accommodate the Emperor’s height. There were pillars made of gold and jade lining the room. The floor was made of hardwood, so clean you could see your reflection. The walls are made of watercolor paintings and gold patterns. Silk drapes hung from the ceiling in a decorative pattern, adding more color to the space. Beautiful women of all shades and sizes lingered in the halls, giggling with one another. They stopped once we made eye contact. They quickly bowed their head and moved out of my way.
The guards, Iida Tenya and Sato Rikido, had given me a tour of the grounds before bringing me to the Empress’ estate on the far end of the property. It was made up of a massive house with about four floors. It was filled with lavish gifts and treasures. From tiger skin rugs to a solid gold statue of Bakugo in the middle of the front room. There had been diamonds and rubies spilling from fountains. Jewelry was littered all over my room. My closet was overflowing with the softest silks and chiffons ever made.
“This is simply too much,” I said, lifting a diamond-crusted bracelet from the bed. “I can not accept all of this.”
“Would you like me to summon Emperor Bakugo, Empress?” Iida asked.
“Well. . . No, that won’t be necessary,” I sighed, taking a seat on the bed. “I will be meeting him for dinner in a few hours, yes?”
“You will, Empress,” Sato replied. “It is customary for the Emperor and the Empress to share meals.”
“Alright, I’ll just talk to him then,” I reassured them before flopping down. “For now, I would like to rest. If there is nothing else, you two may go.”
The guards bowed their heads and excited the room.
I lifted a stray piece of jewelry from the bed and brought it to my eyes. It was a heavy gold chain with a massive emerald pendant in the center. It had to at least be worth a few hundred thousand, yet it was half-heartedly thrown on my bed and tangled with other pieces of similar value. I wasn’t a stranger to wealth. My family came from a long line of professionals, from doctors to politicians. I have had family members with exclusive Cartier pieces and Tiffany jewelry fit for royalty. Yet, when looking at the items on my bed, they didn’t have the same aura as those. It didn’t feel like I was meant to brag about these necklaces and rings. It wasn’t my responsibility to make everyone around me jealous. I was simply supposed to exist whilst wearing the pieces. They were meant to be extensions of myself. An extension of my aura— of my power. 
I rose from my slumped position on the bed and walked to the vanity. I brought the necklace to my neck and gazed at my reflection. The gold and the green complimented my bronze skin very well. I undid the clasp in the back and positioned the necklace against my collarbone. I attempted to fasten it, but my braids kept getting in the way. 
“Allow me,” said a familiar voice.
I looked over to see the Emperor, resting in the door frame. He changed his attire; it had been a little more Regal than before. He wore silk pants, perfectly tailored to his body. They highlighted his slender waist and plump rear. He remained shirtless but had a decorative robe draped over his shoulders. It swayed as he walked over to me. His hands were adorned with rings, almost like mine, except they didn’t have large jewels. They were simple gold bands. 
Emperor Bakugo scooped all my hair to my left shoulder before closing the clasp on the necklace. “It looks good on you,” he said, still gripping my shoulders.
I brushed my hands against the pendant and hummed softly. “I guess it does.”
We sat in silence for just a few moments before I felt his hands drop from my shoulder and snake around my waist. He pulled me closer to his massive body. I could feel the heat radiating from his body and the sweet aroma he carried. He smelled of citrus and cherry blossoms with a hint of spice. It was a scent that brought calm to my being. I found myself leaning into the embrace, intertwining my fingers with his. It was nice to be held like that. Without any ulterior motives or sexual advances, Just to be held by someone who cares for you. 
“Have you started to remember, my love?” His voice was low enough to be a whisper. 
I locked eyes with him through the mirror. “Remember? What do you mean?”
A painful look flashed on Bakugo’s face before he quickly shook it away. “Forget it.”
“No,” I murmured, turning to face him. “Just tell me. Is there something you wanted me to remember? Is it about John?”
The emperor took a deep breath before pulling me closer to his body. “The walls in this place often have ears attached to them. Let’s go somewhere to be truly alone.”
“Okay.”
Red smoke started to appear at our feet before circling up our legs and abdomens. It engulfed our bodies, breathing pulling us into darkness as it did. I could feel cold winds swirling around me as he moved from one place to another. The sweet smell of my bedroom was soon replaced with the stench of stale air and rotting wood. My bare feet were no longer pressed against warm hardwood; instead, I could feel the cool tile sending shivers through my body. When the smoke cleared, we were not only in a different place, but it felt like a different dimension. It was neither Earth nor Hell, maybe space between the two. It didn’t have the heaviness of the surface, the summer breeze, or twinkling stars. Nor did it have the robustness of hell; it didn’t have the pink sky or the black mountains lining the perimeter. Instead, everything was black and white. Almost like films in the early 1930s. The property that Bakugo transported us to was in pristine condition, despite a few cracks along the ceiling. The furniture was covered in sheets, and the windows had pale drapes blocking out the light from outside. Faded watercolor paintings decorated the doors. Jade stone pillars were supporting the high ceiling. In many ways, it looked almost identical to Bakugo’s mansion back in hell, just less lavish.
“What is this place?” I asked, gently touching the stone pillar.
“This was the palace of the first Empress, Kimiko,” he said with a sigh. “My first and only love.”
“Oh.”
Bakugo smiled softly before abruptly snapping his fingers. Warm light illuminated the front room, adding a little bit of color around us. The emperor walked over to the very back of the room, directly in front of a massive piece of furniture. He reached down and pulled the sheet from atop it, revealing a glistening throne. It was carved out of obsidian, a shiny black crystal— which just so happened to ward off evil and negative emotions. It had gold trimming along the edges and large rubies embedded within the armrests. The base was large enough to seat more than one person, which made me wonder if Bakugo spent some time ruling by her side. 
The emperor gently caressed one of the armrests while smiling sadly to himself.
“She was the only one to ever beat me in a fight,” he chuckled. “She laid me flat on my ass before I could even form a proper sentence. I think I started to fall in love with her then.”
“She sounds delightful,” I offered, standing beside him.
“She was,” he reminisced. “She had a temper similar to mine but only unleashed it when it was necessary. She could tame any dragon or beast with a few words. Kimiko handled herself with such poise and grace that even her enemies had to respect her. She was never the type to ask for dominance because people simply gave it to her.”
“What. . . happened to her?” I hesitated. 
“She had what you humans now call “cancer”,” he answered, sadly. “It was the only foe she couldn’t best.”
“I’m sorry,” I offered, placing my hand on his arm.
The twelve-foot demon turned his body away from the throne and took both my hands in his. He looked into my eyes as if he were looking at me for the very first time. Bakugo scanned my entire face, searching for something that I could put my finger on. “I believe you are Kimiko reincarnated, Y/N.”
My eyes widen and I took a step back from him. “Tell me you’re joking.”
“Just before she died, Kimiko and I made a blood oath,” he said, unfastening his silk pants. Bakugo lowered the waistband, just a little bit, to reveal a jagged scar; in the shape of a ‘k’. “We vowed to find each other in the next life, with the help of these marks. I have searched many women throughout the five hundred years I have been alive and only one has the letter ‘k’ etched on her waist. And that person is you, Y/N.”
“Bakugo, I don’t think—”
“I didn’t want to believe it at first,” he interjected. “I mean you two look nothing alike. But the longer I have been in your company, the more I could feel this undeniable connection between us. And I know you feel it, too.”
“Bakugo—”
“There is a reason why aren’t scared of me and why came you to the Underworld so willingly.”
“I didn’t think I had a choice!” I countered. “John signed the death contract!”
“Y/N, I know this is hard to believe and I would be a complete idiot to think you’d accept this right away—”
“I didn’t think demons existed several hours ago!” I screamed, frustrated. “All I wanted to do was to divorce my shit husband and go back to my normal life as a surgeon. Not get remarried to a literal ruler of Hell and become an Empress! I didn’t even have the time to deal with the mess John put me in, before being thrown into yet another role I did not ask for. I mean for fuck’s sake, could you have at least given me the remainder of the night to process what happened before springing this on me?! What else do you have under your sleeve? Are going to tell me you have powers or something?”
“Y/N?”
“What?”
“You’re hair is on fire.”
As much as I wanted to deny my connection to Bakugo’s late wife, more and more evidence started to unravel. From what the maids had told me, the emerald chain that the emperor fastened on my neck was Kimiko’s family heirloom. It was passed down for generations to the first-born daughter of the family. However, since Kimiko died childless, Bakugo decided to keep it to himself. I had tried to take it off, discard it from my sight, but the clasp refused to budge. None of my maids could undo it and I wasn’t in the mood to face Bakugo after that night. I was stuck with the necklace on for the remainder of the week, forced to face my reality. Another quirk that came with this reincarnation scandal was the fire. It appears everywhere when I was angry. It started out with my hair, causing it to spike up and lift from my neck. The angrier I get the more the flames engulf my body. It doesn’t hurt, nor does it partially bother me. Almost everything in the Underworld was flame resistant, meaning there was nothing to really worry about. 
The maids informed me that Kimiko had fierce red hair, resembling a raging fire. It was part of the reason why many feared her in the first place. Given the dimension and the reincarnation drama, I assumed the lore surrounding her life started to literally manifest the longer I stayed in the underworld. Like when the emperor tried to enter my room without my permission and I managed to toss him across the room in the blink of an eye. We were both shocked by the end of it. 
But, he made sure to leave me alone after that.
There were whispers outside my door. A conversation between a very squeaky, feminine voice and a booming masculine one.
I rolled my eyes.
He does it every afternoon— knocking on my door after his morning meetings, in hopes I would invite him in to talk. 
The maids knew never to let him and Bakugo knew never to force himself where he didn’t belong. Unless he wanted to be humbled in front of his subjects.
The door opened and one of the servants hurried inside the room. She bowed her head as she stood in front of my bed. 
“Do I have permission to speak, Your Grace?” She squeaked.
“Of course,” I replied, repositioning the pillow underneath my head.
“The Emperor has requested you meet him for dinner,” she presented, still looking at the floor.
“Tell him to fuck off,” I said, turning my back to her. “I’m going back to sleep.”
“He brought you a gift,” she started to say before I cut her off.
“I don’t need any more jewelry,” I countered. “I can’t even store the pieces I have.”
“No jewelry, but a person. By the name of John.”
I snapped my eyes open and sat straight up in the bed. “Wait does that mean. . . John’s dead?”
“He said if you have any questions, to ask him at dinner tonight,” the servant replied.
“Fine, tell him I will be in attendance,” I admitted, crossing my arms over my chest. “But, inform him that I will not be staying for long.”
“As you wish, Your Majesty.” The servant bowed again before leaving the room.
Several new maids entered the space shortly after, their heads lowered and eyes looking towards the ground. 
“May I help you?” I asked, kicking my legs over the side of the bed. 
“We’ve been instructed by the emperor to assist in dressing for dinner,” the woman on the right said, crossing her hands over her midsection. 
“He instructed that we place you in traditional empress attire,” the one on the left added. 
Emperor Bakugo Katsuki was pushing me into a corner. He wanted me to conform to the role of Empress, even though I would rather walk through the fiery bits of hell naked. I spent the majority of the last week in my room. I only opened the door to get my food trays and greet my servants in the morning. I refused to meet anyone from the royal council or any associate of Bakugo’s. The emperor wanted me to step into my role as Empress so badly that he was willing to try anything— even drag John to the underworld to make it happen.
“That’s not gonna happen,” I countered, walking across the room to the bathroom. “I am capable of dressing myself.”
“But, Your Majesty—”
“If the Emperor has a problem with my decision, tell him he could eat alone for all I care.”
The servants did end up helping me, just not with my outfit. They helped dry my waist-length braids with smaller towels. They divided each braid and applied moose to them. The maid twisted them around flexi-rods and wrapped my head with a silk scarf. Next, we surveyed the makeup that Bakugo had gifted me before I arrived. The blushes and eyeshadows were made up of cool tones, which weren’t complementary to my bronze skin tone. Out of all the blues and purples that were provided, I was able to find muted earth tones in the pile. A collection of browns and metallic shimmers. I decided to make a smoky eye with these shades, with a cut crease. I used gold to fill in the gap to really make my eyelid pop. 
“You should wear red lipstick!” The servant on the left— Yua— said, sliding the red lip across the vanity. “It would be a nice pop of color!”
“I don’t know. . .” The other one— Aika— replied. “The red may be a little too bright. She should go with something a little more neutral. Like a brown!”
Yua snatched the tube of lipstick from her hand. “You don’t know anything about beauty products! Red would be better for Your Majesty’s lips.”
“I disagree,” Aika snatched the red tube from her partner’s hand. “The red would be too distracting. Brown would fit the theme a little better.”
“No, you’re wrong—”
“I was planning on using both of them actually,” I said, turning to look at the younger women.
“Really?” They asked in unison. “How?”
I held out my hand and they gave me the tubes. I popped the cap off of the deep brown lipstick and brought my thin, damp brush to it. I rubbed it against the smooth surface, before bringing the brush to my lips. I outlined the shape of my mouth with a dark color, before placing the cap on the tube. I used a thicker brush to swatch on the red lipstick, but only used a little bit of it on my lips. I topped the section with a clear lip gloss and started to rub my lips together, blending the two lipsticks perfectly. 
“Wow!” Yua said, amazed. “I would’ve never thought of that!”
“Me neither!” Aika agreed. “It looks so good. Your Majesty is the queen of cosmetics!”
I laughed loudly and rose from my seat. “You give me too much praise. I can assure you there are many women better than me at makeup. I only know how to do simple things.”
“Well, you make simple look good,” Aika chimed in.
“You do!”
I laughed and walked over to the closet. I looked through the hundreds of pieces that were filling the space. Although the pieces were absolutely stunning and very much my style, none of the clothes were big enough to fit me. Except for the floor-length robes in the back of the closet. Granted, they were made with the finest silks of all the land, but they did nothing to compliment my figure. They would completely cover me with unnecessary fabric, making me look even bigger than I actually was. I immediately thought back to the night in the bedroom, where Bakugo made clothes appear on my body out of thin air. Even though I had only been in the Underworld for a week, I was already showing signs of magical abilities. I wondered if the physical manifestation of items was a trait that only the emperor could have, or if was I capable of doing it as well. 
I pulled out a random item of clothing from the closet. An all-leather catsuit with a zipper in the center front. There had been a pair of cat ears and a fluffy tail butt plug attached to the hanger.
“These two must’ve been into some seriously kinky stuff,” I said, lifting the tail of the hanger and dangling it in the air.
“Emperor Bakugo talks about Kimiko whipping him all the time— ow!” Yua screeched and hugged her side.
Aika swiftly shook her head a placed a finger on her lips.
I tossed the sex toy to the side and took the item of clothing into my hands. I closed my eyes and simply pictured it on my body. I focused on how I wanted it to fit— how I wanted it to hug my curves, but allow just enough room for me to move comfortably. I could feel my body gradually heat up. The silk robe I had been wearing had slowly begun to slip off, fading out of existence. It was swiftly replaced with a thicker, tiger fabric. It hugged my hips and thighs tightly, while loosely fitting around my tummy. The silk scarf started to slip from my head and my braids untangled from the curlers. I could feel them fall to my back. 
When I opened my eyes, I was no longer in my room. I was wearing the catsuit and it fit just as perfectly as I imagined. But, traditional Japanese rode and graced my shoulders. I didn’t know how the two got paired together, but given the state of the outfit, I was not upset at the combination. I was standing in front of massive paper doors, and by the sound of Bakugo’s booming voice, I had to be outside of the throne room. 
“Come in, my Empress,” he yelled from the other side of the door. “I have been expecting you.”
Hesitantly, I gripped the handle and slid it open. There had been a slew of upper-rank nobility within the space. Every one of them had a different appearance. Some had horns, while others were covered in scales. Some had pointed ears and a long tail, while others appeared to me more human with black eyes. But, no matter what they looked like, they all openly gawked at me. 
“I hope you don’t mind, darling,” Bakugo said with a smirk. “I simply couldn’t wait until dinner time, so I summoned you a little bit earlier than we planned.”
I neutralized any raging emotions that threatened to rise and took a deep breath. I looked at the nobles and gave them a curt nod. “My apologies for having met you in such imprudent circumstances, I was a little under the weather this week.”
“It is no problem at all, Your Majesty,” a loud voice replied from the far end of the room. “We are just happy to be in your presence.”
“Oh you are too, kind the gentleman whose face I cannot see!” I said bowing my head slightly. “I hope to meet you very soon and become good acquaintances.”
I walked down the designated aisle and up the few steps to where Bakugo was seated. I raised my eyebrow, silently asking ‘where am I supposed to sit?”
“Because of such an impromptu schedule change, you just might have to sit on my lap for the meeting,” Bakugo chuckled while patting the area. “I’m sure it will be more comfortable than any chair you have ever sat on.”
He was pushing my buttons and it was working. I wanted nothing more than to not see the smug look right off his face. But, I knew that would only result in more problems. An idea popped into my mind, making a slight smile fall onto my lips. 
I turn my back to the twelve-foot demon and press my ass right on his lap. I push my hips backward; I could feel my lower cheeks brush right against his crotch. Bakugo’s hands immediately sunk into my thighs and helped me spin around so that I was sitting sideways. I wiggled my thighs, under the ruse of getting my comfort, and rubbed against his member once again. That time the mighty emperor sucked in a breath.
“You are playing with fire, Empress,” Bakugo whispered, digging his fingers deeper into my thighs. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Emperor,” I murmured, innocently. 
Every noble in the room had started the meeting by introducing themselves and their stations. Like Izuku Midorya, chief of defense and weapons. Or Todoroki Shoto chief of merchants and foreign goods. Those two were particularly nice and even kissed my hand upon greeting me. Izuku even winked at me when he pulled away, which made a blush erupt on my face. Bakugo growled silently beneath me, but he didn’t say anything. I decided to drive the knife even deeper into the growing wound.
“I look forward to getting to know you, Midorya,” I said sweetly. “Maybe we could have tea sometime soon?”
“It would be my honor, my Empress,” he replied, placing a hand over his heart. “I will be waiting for your invitation.”
“You are too kind,” I cooed, tucking a braid behind my ear. “I have a feeling you’ll make a lovely acquaintance.”
“Acquaintance? You’re breaking my heart, dear Empress,” he professed. “I was hoping to be your dear friend, at least.”
I placed my hand on my mouth and turned away. “Holy cow! He has me blushing like a teenager,” I whispered to myself, hoping that Bakugo would. “I’m gonna have some fun with him.”
“Enough!” The Emperor yelled, startling the entire court. “This meeting is over! The Empress and I have another engagement to tend to. The introductions will resume at a later date.”
“Farewell to all!” I said, rising from Bakugo’s lap. “It was nice seeing all of your beautiful and unique faces! I hope to become great friends with all of you!” 
“Farewell, Empress,” someone called from the far side of the room. “I hope to see you again soon.”
“Goodbye, for now, Your Majesty,” another said. “I will miss gazing upon your immense beauty!”
“Oh, you are just humoring me,” I replied, smiling widely. “I will be back soon. I promise.”
“We miss you already!” Someone else yelled.
“Come to our next meeting!”
“We want to see you every day!”
Red smoke appeared beneath my feet and started twirling up my body. I closed my eyes and attempted to feel the magic encasing my body. I wanted to remember what it felt like, just in case I was given the opportunity to replicate it. Although the palace was nice and I liked the Empress's treatment, I still wanted to go home. Back to where everything was normal. Back to where I could be myself and not a reincarnated soul. The wind started to pick up around us, adding a particular chill down my spine. We were not covered in darkness, but an immense light. It was warm, almost like candlelight. Even the floors were particularly warm and inviting. I opened my eyes to see that we were back in the Empress’ palace. But, unlike before, it was restored. No longer cold and damp, but comfortable and homie. The sheets no longer covered the furniture and the doors looked freshly painted. Even the throne seemed to be dusted and polished; shining even brighter than before. Fresh rose petals were scattered throughout the room, as the soft sound of violins played in the background. 
Romantic was hardly a good word to describe the atmosphere. It was more than that. It oozed passion and poise. It was elegant, as it was refreshing. I could feel some of my stress drip away and my heart warm. I looked back at the towering Emperor, his face still turned up in a scowl and his lips pursed.
“You did this for me?” I asked, taking his hand into mine.
“So what if I did?” He snapped back. “You’re just gonna find a reason to be mad at me anyway.”
A gentle smile fell on my lips, as I felt my body suddenly lift from the ground. Once we were on the same level, I took his face into my hands and looked him in the eye. His crimson eyes began to fade into a bright red the longer he looked at me. His grimace faded into a cocky smirk as he brought his hand to my chin. 
“Are gonna kiss me or what?” He teased.
“I’m starting to think you don’t deserve one,” I admitted, bringing my face closer to his. “After that little stunt, you pulled earlier. Forcing me to meet the nobles. You ain’t slick, demon.”
“You enjoyed it,” Bakugo cackled. “Having dozens of men fawning over you. You were gushing and blushing the whole time. You love being the center of attention.”
I draped my arms over his shoulders and hummed softly. “I don’t recall this ‘gushing’ you speak of. But, I did blush a few times. That Izuku fellow is quite the charmer.”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you have a crush on the brat,” he said, placing his hands on my waist. He pulled me closer to him; our chests pressed together and our limbs began to intertwine. “Who knows? You’ll probably run away with him the minute I turn my back.”
“Are you jealous, Emperor?” I chirped, my smile getting wider. “Jealous of a mere chief?”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” he chuckled. “You are just a royal pain in my ass and so is he. In fact, you two would be perfect together.”
“Maybe I should run away with him,” I joked, gently slipping out of his arms. “He’ll probably treat me better anyway.”
“Come back here, Empress,” he called, taking my wrist and drawing me back to his chest. “Who said I’d let you get away?”
My heart was beating in my chest, so loud it was clouding my thoughts. The heat was radiating from his body and pooling around mine. The look he had in his eye was nothing short of lust and longing. He wanted me. Emperor Bakugo Katsuki of the Underworld wanted me. And I was beginning to want him too. The chemistry between us was undeniable. The longer we stood next to one another, the harder it was to resist each other. The way his hands gripped my hips was sending all kinds of signals to my womanhood. I wanted his hands to touch every inch of my body, along with his mouth. His lips seemed all that more inviting the closer we were. Just a few hours ago, I wanted nothing but to knock him on his ass. Again. But, now, I wanted to do unholy things with the demon before me. 
Before I could think, I pressed my lips against his. I could feel him tense up for a second, before melting into the embrace. His strong arms wrapped around my smaller body and pressed me against a nearby wall. His moans filled the room as his hands kneaded the soft flesh of my rear. The emperor moved the kisses along the side of my face. Kissing along my jaw and against my neck. He sucked and nipped the soft tissue, making my toes curl in response. I pressed my nails into his bare back. Bakugo took his freakishly long tongue and dragged it along the side of my neck and jaw; bringing his mouth right back to mine. He kissed me passionately once more before pulling away.
“I want you,” He purred. His eyes were drilling into my mine. “I’ve wanted you since the night that asshole stripped you naked and tied you to the bed. But, I wanted to wait. I needed you to want me just as much as I wanted you.”
Although it was the bare minimum, the small action proved one great thing: Bakugo may be a demon, but he wasn’t a monster. He respected my agency and didn’t push my boundaries all that much. He could’ve forced himself on me and no one would’ve batted an eye since he was the Emperor. Instead, he let me mourn for my old life in a luxurious room and send me my favorite foods to liven up my mood. Underneath his intimidating size and appearance, he was a really good guy. Or, demon.
“Tell me, Empress,” he said, between kisses. “Tell me you want me, too.”
“I do.”
The emperor lifted me from the wall and walked deeper into the palace. His lips and hands never left my body. He was all over. Kissing my neck, palming my rear, and unzipping my hands. Bakugo was smothering me in affection and I was simply getting drunk off of it. It felt like there had been more than two hands on my body. And, when he placed me on the bed, I realized that there were. Bakugo had grown an extra pair of arms, directly below his previous ones. They were the same length and size, basically identical. But, that wasn’t the only thing added to his appearance. He had tattoos covering his arms and chest. A massive serpent tattoo traveled up his first set of arms, while the heads were displayed on his chest. The other pair of arms paled a little in comparison. There had been a few Japanese words written in kanji on his forearms, while the tips of his fingers looked to be tattooed a deep black. Resembling them being dipped into ink. He had piercings on his nipples and tongue, in addition to the many on his ears. Bakugo, somehow, managed to make himself look even hotter than before; a talent I didn’t know he had.
“I was planning on keeping the glamor up until after we had— you know,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “But, it was getting a little tiring maintaining it. We can stop if you’re uncomfortable.”
“No!” I said a little too quickly. “This is good. Really good.”
The cocky smirk returned to his lips. “Ah, so you prefer my Demon form over the other one? How interesting.” He leaned closer, allowing his body to hover over mine. One of his hands started to pull at the zipper of the catsuit, while another gently pulled out a breast from behind the cloth. “You are almost making it harder to resist fucking you right here and right now.” 
His massive tongue rolled out of his mouth. He lowered his head but kept his eyes on me. Bakugo wrapped the tip of the tongue around my exposed nipple. The foreign sensation made my body shiver. I felt myself arching into his mouth. I wanted more. As if reading my mind, Bakugo lowered his hot mouth onto the bud. He sucked him tenderly, moving his head up and down as he went. I brought my finger to my head and dug them into his hair. My moans filled the room as my body shook with anticipation. His thick fingers inched down my navel and into my waist band. He slid them under my panties and over my sex, before dipping them into my folds.
“I barely even touched you and you are already so wet for me,” he purred, circling my clit slowly. “My Empress, you are so easy to please.”
“Please stop toying with me,” I groaned, moving my hips against his hand. “It’s been so long since I. . . and John wasn’t all that good at it anyway.”
He grimaced at the name. “Let’s not even mention his name.” Bakugo’s fingers slid further down my womanhood and gently pushed into my entrance. “We’ll deal with him at a later time. Let’s just focus on this. Me toying with this tight, sticky pussy of yours.”
He pushed his fingers even deeper and pressed the pads on the roof of my cunt. I gasped loudly and took hold of his robe. Curses spilled from my lips as his digits pumped in and out of me at a beautiful speed. His fingertips were gently massaging my growing g-spot and my walls continued to ooze as a result. Another one of his hands dipped into the waistband. His index and middle finger rested on either side of my clit, while his thumb gently stroked it. Pleasurable sensations were erupting all over my body. My hips were moving on their own, constantly rubbing against his hands, wanting to feel everything. I could feel the pleasure build in the pit of my stomach. My walls started to clench his walls for longer periods the more he fingered my cunt. Suddenly, without warning, Bakugo added a third finger to the mix. Pushing into my slick hole and making me squeal in surprise. There was an interesting burn erupting within my walls.
I pulled on his robe once again, forcing his lips onto mine. Our tongues twirled and danced in each other’s mouths. Eventually, they even fought for dominance. It was then that I felt his fingers move even faster, practically hammering my g-spot. The sheer force of his thrusts moved my lower half on the bed. My hands fell from his robe and my face turned away from his. Deep, throaty pants escaped my throat as the orgasm made a swift appearance. My legs began to tremble as my thighs clenched Bakugo’s hands. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as my mouth formed a massive 'o' shape. Liquid shot from my tender center and sprayed all over the silk sheets. 
"Oh…. Fuuuuuck….." I slurred, grinding my hips on his digits.
The emperor maintained his treacherous movements, making the peak last even longer. He didn't stop until my body stopped shaking against his arms. But, by then, my slick coated his palms and was creating quite the wet spot underneath my ass. He slipped his fingers out. They wrinkled from the activity— my juices were stringy around the digits and made them rather sticky.
The emperor smiled. "I can already tell that pussy is gonna be the death of me," he said, slipping the fingers into his mouth. He moaned at the taste. "You even taste sweet."
I allowed my back to crash against the bed and kept my eyes trained on the ceiling as I caught my breath. "Holy shit," I said in disbelief. "I don't think I've ever cum that hard before."
His hot mouth pressed hot kisses against my breasts, up my neck, and finally to my lips. He fondled my nipple as his tongue explored my mouth for the millionth time tonight. When he pulled away, Emperor Bakugo had a shit-eating grin on his face. 
"Don't get too comfortable," he chirped.
With a snap of his finger, the remaining clothes on our bodies vanished into thin air. Leaving us both stark naked. And, just like his arms, Bakugo had two members. Both are thick, girthy, and rippled with veins. They were approximately the size of my forearm. Pre-cum made their tips bright and shiny.  The longer I looked at them, the more I wanted to touch them. Taste them. Fill my cunt with them. Surely, I wasn’t prepared to take them both at the same time. Anal was something I truly never tried and didn't feel the need to. However, I was pretty sure there were positions to accommodate both members.
"We are just getting started."
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a/n: The full scene is posted on my Ko-fi page. This piece was literally seventeen pages, single-spaced. Meaning it was 13k words in total. Only y'all can get this outta me because I would have NEVER done this for myself lol
Lemme know if y'all like longer fics versus the standard (which is about three 2k-3k).
Vote for the next piece by commenting on this post, Ko-Fi, or you could send me a pm /ask!
We have:
Dhampir(Half Vampire/Half Human) Shoto x Reader----> y/n finds his coffin in her new house (roommate au)
BullHydrid!AllSmite x Reader---> She inherits a farm from her family and All Smite is the mean/rude farm hand (enemies to lovers)
Ghost!Aizawa x reader---> a long-haired ghost lives in y/n's closet and occasionally steals the pillows off her bed.
pls pls pls comment! I love to hear your thoughts and feedback. And lemme know if y'all want a part two!
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Taglist: @cosmicdoechii @carnationsinjanuary @pluisje1402 @turtleducker @fleursthecure @isabel6196 @zoowemamasblog @143ig @qtbxnnykd @pinkwiggthicass @intensitylikesbees @queenotaku27 @cathwritestragediesnotsins @mianeko @ingids @scar3dspid3r @jujuwitchsstuff @bakuhoe-x @unknownforknotsuwn @tsunami-of-emotions @agnl2000 @cherriesdemure @eijiandkatspebble @idkwhatiamdoing048 @princesslina17 @uvula6927 @raina190 @misakik28 @bitchubby @obsessed-tyrant @kingsheir @lonerovo @loveupeople @levislifeline @missrize24 @chubbygrimpanda20 @caffytaffy
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sylverstorms · 3 years ago
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Bela x Maiden ----Songbird Ch. 6
Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5
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You aren't exactly avoiding Bela since the... 'incident', per se.
You just happen to not linger in the spaces you know she frequents. You've maybe made a few adjustments to your shifts to make sure there will be no awkward run-ins. Judging by the fact you haven't heard so much as the sound of her voice in a week, she's not eager to see you, either.
You're not foolish enough to expect her to be, anyway.
Miss 'Superior Species' has made it abundantly clear how she feels about your kind. Curiosity is one thing to justify that kiss but judging by the steely distance she exuded after it, there won't be a repeat performance. She probably stooped low enough for this century.
It's not like you care. You tell yourself you don't, when your lonely thoughts begin to stray towards her smooth lips and the cool, invigorating feel of her body fitted against yours.
Because what is Bela to you, really, other than a pretty distraction from the nightmare you're trapped in?
If you stop to rationalize your situation –something you don't often tend to do, as it reveals ugly aspects of things you'd usually rather not see— she's just a coping mechanism. Nothing more.
Considering the circumstances that brought you together and your glaring power imbalance, it is too naive to think anything genuine could ever develop between the two of you.
It's not like one of them could ever actually care about one of us. You muse bitterly, on your way to taking over the night shift.
A strange sound stops you just before you round the corner into the next long corridor.
It's a laugh; a voice you've heard before, yet hued so startlingly different you almost mistake it for someone else's. One careful peek confirms that it is, indeed, Cassandra's, though for how warm and soft it rings, it may as well be an impostor you see, dressed in the garb of the Dimitrescus.
Naturally, you are not eager to step out before the most sinister of the sisters, even if right now she looks anything but. Adjacent to her, your eyes catch the maid you're going to be relieving of duty soon, the beautiful raven-haired one that the rest of the human staff keeps gossiping about.
All cruel, mean things, of course, from 'Cassandra's favorite toy' to 'the sadist's bitch' and everything in-between. None of them are ever said to her face, though and you are starting to see why.
Because the brunette Dimitrescu is reaching forward to take her hand with gentleness you would never think she had the capacity for, drawing her closer to press a soft kiss to her lips, then nuzzling into her neck like a deadly, oversized cat.
“You coming on a hunt with me tonight, darling?”
The way she talks to her, the way she so obviously melts into Alexia's embrace, that isn't how one behaves around a plaything or a pet. If anything, Cassandra, the bloodied monster haunting your nightmares, suddenly looks normal before your eyes, a girl your age in love.
And that image throws you for a loop.
“Sleep is for the weak, anyway.” Alexia chuckles. “Honey, if you don't let me go the maid who's coming to take over my shift will see us. And I know you don't want that.”
Cassandra pulls back with a huff, long fingers trailing across Alexia's jawline. “I'll see you later.” she says and the sound of buzzing flies signals her leave.
You wait a few solid minutes before finally turning the corner, walking forward to greet your coworker as if your entire worldview hasn't just been shaken out of orbit.
...
The castle is eerily quiet on your wing tonight.
It's just you, your trusty duster and the ample moonlight that streams in through the light curtains. You sing songs in your head to keep sad thoughts away, though you're smarter than to do so out loud and attract unwanted visitors.
Any Dimitrescu, at this point, falls under that category.
You are mid-way through your shift yet tired as though you've been through the entire thing several times over. Perhaps your sleepless nights have to do with it. Perhaps a certain blonde not-quite-vampire has to do with them.
It's startling how every time you allow yourself to really think of Bela, it's like you summon her.
You've learned to recognize her footsteps, by now. Regal and authoritative, heavier than Daniela's and Cassandra's, not nearly as thunderous as her mother's heels.
As with most of your problems, you make a point not to look at her and hope that maybe she'll go away.
No such luck.
“Songbird.” she calls, when it's clear you won't turn to her of your own volition.
Bold of her to assume this will make you any warmer in your greeting. “Yes, Lady Bela?” You don't face her. Instead, you continue to scrub the already clean floor with a furious passion.
A huff comes from behind you. “Rhiannon, don't force me into something neither of us will like.”
Oh, she makes that sound like a fatal warning, alright. Only, she doesn't know you very well. When you're mad at someone and you don't want to see their stupid –in her case unfairly beautiful— fucking face, not even valid death threats have much of an effect.
You can either kill me so I stop suffering over the family I've left behind already, or you can shove your warning up your—
“Have it your way.” Bela says.
One millisecond later, you feel a dizzying rush of air, a strong arm grabbing your waist and hear the buzzing of hundreds of flies.
The next thing you register –when your stomach stops free-falling— is the harsh impact with cushions.
You realize you're on a couch, in a room rather than the hallway you were previously mopping, thrown onto it like a sack of potatoes. With an irritated mutant staring you down through flashing yellow eyes, at that.
Your waist is already starting to hurt. What the fuck, you assh-
“It's not like there's a universe where I don't get my way, so why can't you just listen?” Bela demands, low and one step away from hissing.
You stand up despite the protest of your muscles and the height difference between you, eyes locked with hers. “Well, I was listening.” Somehow, you're equal parts caustic and a polite maid.
Bela runs a hand through her blonde hair, almost as if that's the alternative to squeezing your throat till it breaks for your general audacity.
If you die here, you'll die happy you at least got through to her impassive shell.
“Look. I understand that you are angry about the other night.” she begins and boy, is that an understatement. “And normally I wouldn't give a damn, but the whole... incident is bothering me, too.” And she has nobody else to talk to about it because evidently no one from her family can know.
How magnanimous of you, you narrow your eyes at her.
“Nothing needs to be said, Lady Bela.” you sigh, more parts tired than angry, this time.
Rage is toxic to hold onto for too long and looking at her now you're pretty sure she won't even see why you're feeling what you're feeling, so this conversation is just pointless. God, this woman and you exist on two different worlds...
“Stop with the 'Lady Bela', it's getting on my nerves.” she says, voice lower than earlier.
“Bela.” you call, quiet. Her tension seems to ease a tad, at that. “I already know.”
“Do you?” she asks, doubtful and cold.
“Yes. We're not even on the same book, on many things, let alone the same page. I didn't think that kiss meant anything to you and we can call it an adrenaline-induced irrationality on my part. Nobody is going to know, if that's what's troubling you.”
Bela shifts her weight, uneasy. “...that's good.” she agrees. “The whole thing was a mistake.”
That shouldn't sting as much as it does, but you brace through it. You don't really have another choice.
She looks stunning under the moonlight, by the way. The uselessly into her part of you adds. There's just something about her hair and the way her eyes glow—
“Yes.” you nod, to hide the fact you're distracted. Why are you suddenly growing hotter, remembering the taste of her lips? “It was a mistake.”
“Big mistake.” she adds.
“Massive.” You chew on your lower lip, a nervous habit.
Bela's smokey eyes follow the motion as though she wishes she were the one biting that very same spot.
And...
The next second she is, balmy lips over your own, firm yet gentle hands resting on your side and bicep. You think that counts as solid enough permission to reach up and caress her neck, weave your fingers through her hair, like you've wanted for a while now. The silken strands feel as amazing as they look. Like the rest of her.
Bela is more assertive this time, taking the lead, dipping her tongue into your mouth when you eagerly part it for her.
The distance between you vanishes. She lets out a low sound, between a sigh and moan, when your nails drag against her nape. A tingle of fire has started from your lips and rolled lower, bellow your stomach.
Bela's fingers press harder into your skin as you nibble on her lower lip. She loosens her hold only when you break apart for air. Words cannot describe how hot it is to see her doubting her control over her strength.
And knowing you've caused it...
“Everything okay?” you ask, the words a faint whisper against her skin as you press little kisses down the corner of her mouth, across her nice jawline. She smells so wonderful, you just want to hug her and forget everything else.
“It would be easy to break away from you if it was just okay.” She says, breathless by your ear.
Her hands on your back, strong, secure, make you wish they were lower, but you don't think either of you is prepared for more right now, despite how ready your body always seems to get for her.
“So... nice chat.” you say, because if she keeps testing her lips and the edge of her fangs like that on your skin you won't be responsible for what happens next.
You can feel Bela roll her eyes as she draws the slightest bit back, enough to lock gazes with you.
“I should get back to work.” you breathe, hesitant.
“Mhm.” Bela nods, but she's already moving her tantalizing mouth on the corner of yours again.
Well.
On the other hand, work can wait for a few minutes.
Or a few more than a few.
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Chapter Two
Sometimes you just need coffee. There comes a point in every adult's life where they realize that you simply can’t handle what is being thrown at you on the daily and require some highly addictive fall back. Or at least, Lester assumed that was the case for most people. 
Despite his occupation he wasn’t much of a coffee guy himself. He only succumbed to it’s so-called allure when faced with a bit too much more than he could reasonably juggle than usual. And even then, he couldn’t get through a cup without cups of cream and sweetener. 
He had no defense against the coffee purist sadists (cough-Thalia-cough). He just wasn’t a hardcore kind of guy. Same with alcohol. People Thalia could call Lester a wimp all they wanted. He wasn’t going to start drinking gross booze when fruity cocktails were right there, existing. 
You know what, Lester thought, staring forlornly at the coffee shop’s closed doors taking a long sip of his coffee, right about now I could use a good cocktail.
He had just had one of the hardest shifts of his life and that was saying something since he had a shift with Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano hours after her turning him down. (Who knew that the word ‘adorkable’ could be so threatening?) 
A party of about ten teenagers had come in, probably high off some sort of sugar, and laughing their asses off about something or another. Based on their topics of conversation after they all put in their memoir length orders, Lester was pretty sure he had never wanted more to not be in on the joke. 
Now the whole of his reality was hitting him full force. The fact that he was still sitting in his work place nursing a cup of coffee after the end of a shift probably wasn’t doing his semi-mid life crisis any favors. 
His gaze fell down into the depths of his drink. When he finished it he would have to go home. Somehow, that felt worse than work. 
“Oh cup ‘o joe, you are the only entity that can relieve my pain. Maybe I should just marry you? The phrase ‘married to your job’ exists for a reason, doesn’t it? It has to supply some sort of satisfaction” An image of a certain marriage bubbled to the forefront of his mind. Scratch that, the idea that marriage provided satisfaction was a total lie. 
“You look like you got beat up by an alley cat.” The table he was sitting at shook a bit as another weight slid in across from him. That voice… it sent off some recognition bells in Lester’s brain. Whoever this high pitched stranger was they probably knew him. That, or he was hearing things and he did truly look bad enough for a stranger to think it was appropriate to approach him with that zinger of an ice breaker. 
Deciding he would prefer blissful ignorance, Lester kept his eyes resolutely glued to his coffee. “Sounds like a good metaphor for customer service. You should get that published.”
The stranger gave a snort that resonated as strangely childish to Lester’s ears. “Not what I meant dummy.” 
Lester looked up and his eyes were met with rhinestone offensive taste. “You!” So the reason this person sounded like a child is because they were one! 
Lester was taken so off guard the only thing he could say was, “What did you mean?” 
The girl (maybe saying words was grocery store speak for take all my crap) took this as an invitation to swipe Lester’s coffee from under his nose and chug it. 
How is one supposed to respond to that? Lester suspected outrage was the right option, but in all honesty, he was too in shock to be able to fish out an appropriate emotional response in that moment. 
“I just meant that- well when I was first getting my alley I got attacked by this cat, and I got super upset because if I couldn’t even beat up a cat what was I worth to… I don’t know- how was I supposed to survive?”
Oh my god, has my grocery store theory been confirmed? The thought made Lester wince. It sounded like this kid had just confessed that she was homeless (and she lived in an alley?) to him. That was about the most inappropriate first thought he could possibly have had. 
Really batting a thousand on the appropriate emotional responses today Lester. What’s next, are you going to start flirting with Thalia? 
What to say now? The girl was staring at him suspiciously and gripping his coffee cup tight, like he might try and steal back his drink’s corpse to give it a proper burial. Or something along those lines. He didn’t know for what other reason someone would want an empty generic brand coffee cup. “Uhh, what? Sorry? I still don’t understand.” 
The girl looked very upset that Lester had spoken. Which, he got that a lot, but still, ouch. One would think he was the one who robbed her. “I am trying to say you look hopeless. God, you’re dumber than I thought.” Again, ouch! 
“Excuse you! I am not dumb! I’ll have you know that I’ve been called the creative leader of this generation!” 
She snorted again, “Maybe you should act like you believe that then.” 
Wait , Lester’s jaw dropped, was this homeless girl that had robbed him not even a week ago, trying to give him a pep talk? He didn’t know whether to be highly offended by the whole situation or charmed. 
He went with the secret third option, which was to stop disrespecting the Scrap Master by calling her the Scrap Master. 
“Uhm, what’s your name kid? How old are you?” He dared not ask the third question that usually accompanied that set, ‘Where are your parents?’. He figured that from a young girl who, apparently, had thrown down with an alley cat to stay on the streets the answer wouldn’t help anyone. If he even got an answer, which Lester greatly doubted he would. 
Not being asked who his parents were was one of the great advantages about being an adult that Lester cherished every damn day. 
The girl shrugged like her own identity was as much of a mystery to her as it was to Lester. She twirled a small piece of hair like she was cranking the gears in her head to answer the question. After an awkward silence she replied with, “My name is Meg and I’m none of your business years old!”
Then, like an unorganized flock of birds that somehow managed to uproot a traffic light, jumped up from her seat and took off out of the shop. 
Lester found himself, once again, staring into the distance after the wake of the Scrap Master. 
Meg, huh? Maybe that was short for Margaret. When I see her again- Lester didn’t know why but he was sure she would- I’ll have to ask her.
The Adventures of Lester Papadopoulos and the Scrap Master
A Trials of Apollo Fic 
Lester’s life has been a on a steady decline ever since he left his abusive family to go be on his own. The days at his new job at his local coffee shop are monotonous and unrewarding until one day he gets robbed by a human traffic light that insists things around here start changing. Lester just wished the “here” she was gentrifying wasn’t his life.
Or: A platonic Meg&Apollo coffee shop au 
Keep reading
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kumaradosha · 3 years ago
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I’m seeing a whole lot of bad takes and ignorance of past/present content and lack of critical thinking or ability to understand character motives regarding this most recent Dream SMP lore. So please, allow me to lay down some facts, some sense, and also some speculation of my own. This’ll be really rambly, because I’m tired, and I want to say a lot. Rewatching ALL the streaming perspectives now, my thoughts start here:
Considering Sam doesn’t want to enter the cell to dirty his hands himself, he clearly has some aversion or moral qualms about torturing prisoners, but Quackity has convinced him to go along with it. Quackity spends a lot of time before he goes into the cell repeatedly making sure Sam won’t have a change of heart and intervene, which indicates Sam probably has some misgivings. Quackity feels he has to remind Sam that this is for the greater good and to stand back and let him do his thing and that this will probably be the last time. These are all reassurances and instructions that would not be necessary if Sam were known to be totally cool with it all already.
Sam believes the stringent measures Dream put in place for the prison are just desserts for him to suffer, but Techno doesn’t deserve the same cruelty, because Techno didn’t enact those rules. And that’s why Techno gets baked potatoes from Sam, and Dream doesn’t. Sam clearly believes this harsh treatment is justified, because Dream was going to do it to someone else. He thinks he’s being just. Of course, allowing the torture, though not his idea and not really comfortable to him, was still crossing a line, considering physical torture was not something Dream did to his victims (and besides, there’s the argument that not everything a criminal has done is morally correct to be done to the prisoner regardless). That, he was convinced, was for the greater good, to get the revive book. Quackity manipulated him; he thinks he’s doing what’s best, but no, of course that doesn’t make him right or his hands clean.
Sam wanted the dog dead because it’s a security risk, especially with Quackity entering the cell with two other people. He killed it later for the exact same reason. Y’all act like nobody else has ever killed an animal in Minecraft RP; get it together. Is Sapnap also evil? Tommy? He killed his own cat. Random animals are not treated with the gravity you guys are giving them; it makes no sense to call out this one time.
When Techno raised the point that he would be fine if Quackity killed him, because Dream could just bring him back, Dream countered with his warning that Techno doesn’t want to experience death, judging by how messed up it made Tommy. What motive would he have to argue that, aside from actually caring about Techno’s well-being? If Dream was only thinking of himself, he would benefit from Techno being willing to die and be brought back to life by him, giving him an easy reason not to give the resurrection knowledge to Quackity. I honestly can’t think of a reason he would argue other than the fact that he doesn’t want Techno to die even temporarily or experience death--that he cares. Interesting...
Dream hiding in the escape tunnel to make it look like he disappeared too was 5,000 IQ, but he didn’t do it just to be silly or smart. Quackity literally threatened to kill Dream when he came back. Dream HAD to pretend to disappear, because he was legitimately in fear for his life. You saw how terrified he was when Sam found him, how he just immediately begged him not to tell Quackity. He was afraid Quackity would come back and kill him before Techno managed to come back and break him out. He believed that would be his fate and had to make a last ditch attempt to avoid that outcome.
Phil confirmed on stream that the blueprints Techno was led to via coordinates are for the prison. Not Tubbo’s missing nuke, like I’ve seen speculated.
“Steve is your polar bear” was written on stream during the “Prison Podcast” Technoblade lore. This is not a mystery. Dream said he wrote it down when Techno started talking about Steve rescuing them.
If Sam doesn’t approve of Quackity killing Dream, why doesn’t he just tell Quackity Dream is still in the prison but not allow Quackity in anymore? Quackity needs Sam to lead him inside, to let him in. Since when did he have any power against Sam to force him to let him in? I don’t understand why Sam has to keep it a secret just to keep Dream alive. Just don’t let Quackity into the prison anymore. Clearly it was a bad idea, since all these security risks happened while Quackity was getting a free pass to not follow the rules of the prison.
Dream casually walking in the way of Sam’s pickaxe to disrupt his swing once Sam almost had the bell broken gets me every time.
The rapport between c!Dream and c!Sam in prison fascinates me. Clearly Dream is much bolder with Sam than Quackity and still seems to trust his sense of duty to a degree. Sam is also more malleable, convinceable, his fatal flaw being actually listening and talking to Dream, even after it clearly messes with him psychologically. He let Quackity manipulate him, too, and he compromises too much. That might seem weird to say, considering the harsh conditions he has Dream in, but. He does give in to a few things.
I’m wondering if Dream wanted to go to the courtyard hoping it was less secure and easier for Techno to break him out of.
Sam has no reason to lie and gaslight about Dream being the one to suggest raw potatoes and sealing up the courtyard. That’s not in his character to do. So clearly Dream suggested these things. In fact, we have proof. Search for the clip of Dream revealing a teaser for future lore, with him telling Sam the hole in the courtyard ceiling for the light is a security flaw. He straight up says that. Update yourselves. Furthermore, are the recordings we have of Dream suggesting nicer features for the prison even lore? Are they in-character, or was it cc!Dream and Sam making plans? I’m genuinely asking, because I don’t remember/am not sure. In any case, clearly the plans changed at some point, and they were Dream’s idea.
Dream said he didn’t realize how bad it was until after he experienced it. This could very well be a lie. However, it could also be a wake-up call. We just don’t know. Dream clearly possesses low empathy, and every person at some point doesn’t fully realize how poorly another being can feel in a bad situation. Sometimes it actually does take experiencing it yourself to realize how it feels. People can do cruel things to others before the empathy fully clicks. It is possible that Dream really does only now understand how harsh his plans were. Unfortunately, it’s just as likely he doesn’t care and is pretending to, because he has a history of acting, lying, and manipulating. We just do not know, and I think that’s part of the fun, the speculation. Note that none of this is excusing what he’s done; that bores me. I just like understanding characters and their psychology and motives.
Sam is ASKING if Dream had this prison built for Tommy. He is suspicious that that is the case. Dream did not TELL him this, because OBVIOUSLY Sam would have absolutely nothing to do with building a prison he knew Dream meant for Tommy. So no, Sam thought it was for something else. And guess what? It was. Back during the disc war finale stream, Dream told Tommy and Tubbo that the prison was originally intended for someone else (maybe multiple people, the number was not specified), but that he changed his mind and would now put Tommy in it (ha ha punny). Tubbo asked who it was originally intended for, and Dream wouldn’t tell him, preferred to keep it a mystery. Dream had zero reason to say this if it weren’t true. In fact, it would have been more impactful to pretend (or admit) he intended it for Tommy all along. Think of the horror, or even the betrayal finding out Sam, his friend, helped make it. So yes, there is every indication that it is the truth--Dream meant the prison for someone else at first.
And Dream didn’t argue with Sam’s accusations, because why WOULD he? If he didn’t tell Tubbo who it was for, he wouldn’t tell Sam now. Plus, he wouldn’t want to argue with Sam, make him more heated and less sympathetic, and risk him deciding to tell Quackity Dream was there after all. Dream has no reason to speak up. Let Sam think what he wants. Dream’s silence does not mean confirmation. This is not a new thing with him. He keeps things mysterious, and there is a lot about his planning and mindset he does not disclose.
Now, whether Dream made the prison harsher before or after he decided he wanted Tommy in it is up for speculation. We don’t know that timeline.
Anyway, Sam’s speech about Dream getting what he deserves is really delicious. All these people out here mocking Dream fans for Dream still being in prison (like Techno’s not imminently coming to break him out, hello?) and being told off by Sam, yet plenty of us are enjoying it, too, like?? Bruh, what kind of Mary-Sue-touting asshole likes characters who are flawless who never go through strife? Can’t be me. I love watching my favs through triumph AND despair, so this is all just a win for me, thanks.
It is possible to sympathize with a bastard who is highly flawed and wrong AND to understand his motivations without justifying his actions AND to realize he deserves punishment (though to what degree I don’t care to argue). All the black and white morality and taking one extreme stance of “this character is perfect!” OR “this character is wholly evil and only ever does things to be sadistic!” and polarizing the community is cringe, yo. You need to calm down. Enjoy the ride or like...get off?
Anyway, Dream is my favorite, Techno is my second favorite, I adore Sam, I really enjoy Quackity, and the SMP wouldn’t be the same without Tommy. So much love for all of this creative work and its creators. I’m having a blast.
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sweetcathedral · 4 years ago
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🖤Hero Academia — Aizawa🖤
Note: I thought I’d post an old work here. Also, b/c I’m seeing a lot of minors migrate to ao3, I’m thinking of switching all my works to here since it’s easier to monitor, which means I’m deleting my ao3.
⚠️: bulge, breeding, somnophilia, cnc
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He’s late. Just as you thought, but that’s expected of Pro Heroes and you can’t blame him for being one. You knowingly accepted your common law conditions, so you can’t complain. You reached for your phone hoping to see his name tangled within the notifications.
NekoZawa: late
Was the only message that caught your attention with a little bit of disappointment. Deep down you already knew it’d come to this, but you still can’t help feeling let down a bit. As you were about to change out of your getup a series of sharp knocks startled you, catching you off guard.
“It’s mee!” shouted the familiar voice.
Midnight?!
You rushed to open the door.
“Kayama? You’re ba—,”
“Ahhhh! So cute, so delicate, just youth!” she huffed in excitement at the sight of your longline lace bra and single-ruffled panties.
“Ah! Wai—youth? You know we're not that far in age,” you said, as you try to hide behind the door.
“Please, I'd kill to be 5 years younger, and don’t even try hiding from me. Even though he doesn’t care much about looks this definitely falls within his tastes,”
You blushed at the compliment, wishing it had come out of Aizawa’s mouth instead.
“Anyways,” she continued, “how about some bubble tea? I got your favourite,” she whipped out a bag of drinks from behind her. You wonder if she knew of your plans and came to cheer you up.
Who am I kidding, she’s an R-rated hero. Her sixth sense is basically her sex sense.
“Yeah, I could use some company,” you smiled in relief, thankful for her sharp intuition.
Before you knew it, 9PM became 11PM in what felt like 30 minutes and that heavy feeling weighing on your chest left after a couple of laughs here and there. You couldn’t help but feel better in the presence of Kayama, you have no choice but to feel better in her presence.
“And after I showed his class a pic of you, that grape idiot said ‘ if that raggedy ass man of a sensei is able to snatch a woman like that then there’s still hope for me, right?! Right?!’ in that stupid lisp of his! I couldn’t help, but cackle in his face! Hahahahahahahaha!”
“Grape idiot?!,” you laughed, almost choking on your tapioca.
“It caused this huge uproar which took Aizawa an hour to settle down,”
“Sounds like an exaggeration to me,”
“Really? Then I’d have to ask Principal Nezu for permission to let you visit. Hmmm, maybe a surprise visit during his birthday, I’d get to see that purple shit bleed from his eyes again. Hah!” she said, her sadistic side twinkling in her eyes.
You could tell she wasn’t lying about the surprise visit as she hummed her thoughts between sips of beer. Although you know how much Aizawa likes to keep his private life separate from his professional life, your thoughts couldn’t help but ponder in curiosity at how he acts around his infamous class 1-A students. All he ever does is complain about them every time you ask, but just thinking about him acting like the strict teacher Kayama says he is . . . makes . . . you . . .
“Oi, oooii . . . I said OI!”
“Gah!”
“What the hell’s got you blushing like a dazed mess?”
“Blushing? . . . !”
You clasp your hands over your face, as if you’re trying to keep your thoughts and daydreams from escaping. You let your imagination run wild just from thinking about Aizawa as a teacher — his strict demeanour and cold eyes piercing through you . . . his deep growls muffled at the base of your neck as his grip tightens around your waist and hair . . .
“Oh! What time is it?” Kayama exclaimed, disrupting your thoughts.
You reach for your phone to check the time, seeing 11:17PM illuminating from the screen before flipping it to Kayama.
“Perfect!”
You cock your head to the side trying to think of what could make Kayama that excited, but before you could react, her quirk had already taken hold of your consciousness.
Aizawa let out a heavy sigh staring at the time on his phone. It wasn’t the first time he’d let you down like that, even though it’s out of his control he still can’t help feeling disappointed in himself. Pro Heroes always have unpredictable schedules, but still, he’d wish his schedule had gone his way today.
“Thanks as always, Eraserhead. I’ll send the details your way once we’ve confirmed the date,” Tsukauchi reassured, dismissing him for the day. Aizawa nodded in response, finally, he thought. As he walked out of the station, his phone vibrated.
Ugh, what now?
He reached for his phone and unlocked his screen.
Kayama? Probably just more cat pics.
But much to his surprise, the series of pics caused him to stop in his tracks.
Kayama: Bon appétit! *kissy face*
Was the only message that followed at the end of the series of pics. After Kayama used her quirk to put you to sleep, she happily cleaned the place up and settled you prettily onto the bed in an innocent, but also, somewhat tempting position. Who could blame her? She had a knack for setting up tempting situations for her best friends. Aizawa tapped on each pic, examining the details of your delicate lace bra and fluttery panties. He really wished his schedule had gone his way today. The longer he stared at each pic, the bigger his temptation and pent up emotions grew — frustration, doubt, confusion, jealousy, anger, greed, love, lust, it was causing him to lose all sense of logic. You were causing him to lose all sense of logic and he hated it. It’s his first time experiencing something like this, he’d never romantically loved anyone until you came into his life. At first you were just like any other Pro Hero he teamed up with in previous missions, but the mission you two took on escalated into an emotional high profile case, which caused him to spend more time with you. One thing led to another and now, you’re each other’s common-law spouse. Both of you could care less about the huge wedding traditions of planning a wedding day, banquet halls, invitations and all that, but unexpectedly, he did buy you a wedding ring — a customized designer ring at that. Not only does he not care about appearances, but he also doesn’t seem to care about prices, so long as it serves its purpose.
“Uh, Eraserhead? Everything okay?” Officer Sansa tapped on Aizawa’s shoulder, breaking him from his thoughts.
“Huh? Oh, Detective Tsukauchi already settled on a date already?” Aizawa quickly locked his phone and tucked it back into his pocket.
“Um, no, he was actually worried about you . . . you’ve been standing still here for a while now, just staring at your phone . . .”
The logical Pro Hero himself didn’t even realize that he stopped walking and was surprised to see the station still behind him. Tch .
“. . . yeah, I think I should head home now. Someone’s waiting for me. Thanks, Officer Sansa.”
He waved at the cat officer before tucking his hand back into his pocket, unconsciously digging his fingernails into the palms of his hands in frustration. He hated this feeling . . . and he can’t wait to take it out on you .
Aizawa hesitates to open the door, unsure of how he’d react when he sees you for himself. He carefully turns the knob, making sure not to make a noise that’ll wake you from your peaceful slumber. You were just like the pics Kayama sent him — back exposed with the soft glow of the city night lights highlighting your dainty shoulder blades . . . arms clutching the pillow from underneath that pretty little head of yours . . . one leg hitched up to the side while the other was elongated and tucked half way into the sheets . . . As he reached to caress your face, he noticed his hand trembling from suppressing his temptation. Tch. He pulls his hand back in frustration.
“ . . . mmph . . . Shou . . . ta . . .” you murmured in your sleep in between heated breaths.
That was enough for Aizawa to let go of any sense of logic and common sense he had left, and before he knew it, he was hovering over you — the weight of his body sinking into the duvet. His eyes trailing over your features, watching your chest rise and fall with every breath you take — a reassuring feeling that you’re real and very much alive to him. He annoyingly hears his name from the teachers at UA all the time, but when it whispers out from between those pretty lips of yours, it made him experience a feeling he wasn’t used to controlling. He gave in, leaving trails of kisses that slowly turned into hickeys and then bite marks. He felt bad for leaving those marks on your supple skin, but he also wished they were permanent, as if the wedding ring doesn't speak for itself anymore. Aizawa’s grip tightened on your thigh at the thought of anyone else touching you, pinning your leg to your chest. His rough hand traces down your curves before slipping them in between your thighs — a wet sopping mess.
Ah, her panties are ruined . . . shame, he thought as he ripped a slit open, big enough for what you’re about to take in. Whoops . . . I’ll just get her a new one.
The temperature of your body was rising as he continued to press up against you, leaving marks on your collarbone and teasing your insides with his thick calloused fingers. A wave of pleasure ripples through your moonlight kissed skin, slowly pulling you back to your senses. You bat your eyes a few times to shake off the heaviness weighing on your eyelids.
“ . . . Shou—haa . . . !” your body twitched as another wave of pleasure came over you, shaking off your sleepy numbness, awakening your sense of touch as you grip his forearm trying to get him to slow down. It was no use given how enamoured he was with your reaction, your measly grip is as light as a feather against his strength.
“Haa . . . wait . . . slowdow—mmph!,”
Aizawa places his hand over your mouth, silencing your relentless begging. You finally noticed his flushed face and entranced eyes — a face you’re not used to seeing.
“Shut up, if you know what’s good for you,” his deep voice reverberated in your ear, sending a ripple of shivers down your neck. He was a completely different person in a completely different headspace. The only thing that can bring him back to his senses is your safe word, but you know that if you give in he’d completely stop and resist touching you for days as penance for losing control. But . . . you love it when he loses control along with his sense of logic, so you melt into your favourite position, signaling him to release all his pent up emotions in you — a mating press. You bite your trembling lower lip, begging with your wet eyes as a smirk played across his face. He gently kisses your forehead before pulling down his bottoms, revealing his thick throbbing cock. Your cunt twitched at the sight of it, squeezing out your fluids, dripping down like honey.
“How badly do you want it?”
“. . . badly . . . Shou~ta~ . . .” you cooed.
His cock twitched at the sound of your light and airy voice, precum drips onto the sheets.
“Not yet,” he said as he began stroking his cock on your clit, making sure not to let an inch slip inside you. The sensation drives you crazy as you whimper and whine for him to fill you up inside, desperately begging with your hips. But Aizawa’s firm grip on your thighs won’t let you, and keeps you from getting what you want. You miss the feeling of being bred full . His strokes were getting faster, his panting turning into growls. Your body tensed and toes curled as the feeling came closer, letting a desperate sigh escape from your mouth.
“Already? But I’m not done with you yet,” he playfully whispers in your ear before ramming himself inside you.
“Haa!” you yelped.
Your plump walls twitch at the sudden movement, tightening itself around his cock.
“That’s my good girl,” he chuckled, cockingly.
Tears well up in your eyes as you bite back your whimpering. He grabs your hand and firmly places it on your lower abdomen,
“Do you feel me? I’m right here.”
With your hand firmly placed on your stomach, you can feel his bulge every time he strokes his cock in you. He keeps it there, so that you have no choice but to feel it until the very end — up until his cum fills you up inside. His long strokes began to shorten, each stroke getting harder than the last and unable to hold in your pants and moans. Not only can you feel the warmth fill you up, but you can also feel his cock releasing globs of his milk from the bulge protruding from your lower abdomen. Your fingers dance around it making him twitch, his bruising grip tightening around your wrist.
“Fuck,” he grunts, looking down at the mess you both made.
Your cunt was swelling at the amount of cum it’s trying to keep from spilling, gushing out every time your sticky walls twitch. Before Aizawa was about to pull out, you grab his arm,
“Wait . . . not yet,” you must’ve been pouting when those words fell off of your swollen lips cause you’ve never seen his features soften like that before. He lowers himself, feeling his weight sinking into the bed as he tenderly kisses your forehead, brushing your slick baby hairs from your face . . . the warmth of his forehead resting against yours . . . the reassuring feeling of his hand gently cupping your flushed cheeks . . . You reach for his face, thumbing the scar under his eye, diving in for a deeper kiss and wrapping your arms around him. His heart begins to beat harder as you begin to feel his cock swelling up again from inside you.
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