#no one gives a fuck about how you think dubs are the worst thing in the world

[evolnoomym]

Dirty Little Secret 🗝️

Dad’s Boss!Joel Miller x F!Reader

General Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist | Support me |

Summary: Joel likes his employees daughter just a little too much. He really tried to not give in but one fateful evening Joel loses control.

Rating: 18+ mature content mdni!!!!

Word count: 0.8k

Authors note: No thoughts, just horny. Perhaps Yoga pants kink ??? What do we thinkkkkk??? I’m not promising for this to be amazing. I literally wrote it down in lightspeed.

Warnings: no y/n, F!OC, age-gap, FathersBoss!Joel Miller, dub con, thigh fucking, dry humping, yoga pants fetish???, Joel being a horny lonely dude, he’s sleazy

If I missed anything please let me know 🙏🏻

Shoutout to @cafekitsune for the divider 🫶🏻

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if you come across mistakes it might be due to that. I’m totally here for constructive criticism or feedback on how to improve. In general I appreciate comments, likes and reblogs greatly 🫶🏻

Amongst the many things Joel shouldn’t do in his position, that being the boss of a successful contracting company, the worst is most likely lusting after the daughter of his favorite employee. You.

A stunning 22 year old sunshine. Something about that warmth made his cock swell again and again. How many times did you simply smile at him, resulting in Joel trying to tame his erection in the bathroom. Though he never finished, or was more was not able to. All his cock wanted was you, but just the mental image was not enough to quench his need.

It began innocently. Running into you when you brought your dad his forgotten lunch, short talks about whatever you could think of and giving you a tour of the company. Being the good girl that you are, you made sure to bring lunch for Joel too and for that alone he wanted to fuck your brains out.

He noticed that yoga pants, precisely those incredible skin tight ones, were your most liked attire to wear. You seem to own them in an array of colors and designs

Unprofessional is also to give an internship to you without paying attention to your skills or experience. He would hire you if you’d ask, he’d do anything and by now he had accepted the slight unhealthy obsession.

Even though Joel loves having you close to him, watching you walk away from him was so much better. Your butt cheeks jiggling so enticingly always leaves him Hard. Painfully so, he hadn’t gotten the chance to sink into a tight, wet and warm hole in forever so his lust was building up each day you tempted him.

Tonight however, he is gonna explode. Joel had watched you enter the cozy little work get-together earlier with your dad. Of course you wear one of those tight yoga pants again, these darn pieces of fabric leave nothing left to the imagination.

Sometimes Joel questions if you’re even wearing underwear. He sits in his office, not drawing up building plans and instead imagining your pussy rubbing against the seam all day.

He drifts off so far that he envisions sniffing and licking those pants after you wore them, these horny thoughts eat away at him.

It all boils over when he sees you slipping into the office of your dad, a chance for him, in there he can finally catch you all alone.

He trails after you carefully, watches you round the corners and bend over the table once you enter his room. A simple action that causes even more of his thoughts to stray, it’s the delicious curves of your ass, how they mold into the crotch where your puffy lips are so visible under the stretched fabric.

It all happens almost as if in trance, he pushes the door shut, locks it. Before you even have the chance to turn around he’s on you, pushing your front down on the table.

He’s tugging his zipper down, freeing his impressive throbbing length and drags his leaking tip all over your clothed butt-cheek.

“Sorry, babygirl, i couldn’t handle seein’ you prance around in those ridiculous pants.” Each word is emphasized with a thrust of his hips into your backside. His hands have a bruising grip on your hips.

“M..Mr.Miller, what are you doing?” You sound frightened and Joel can’t blame you but he has no intention to stop.

“Havin’ some fun, baby, I can make it good for you too,huh?” He humps you for a brief moment before pushing his shiny head between your clenched thighs.

“This is wrong, Mr.Miller you need to stop.” Joel might believe you’re actually telling him off, but the way your voice quivers doesn’t convince him. You don’t wanna get caught but the cock of your father’s boss doesn’t bother you.

“Shh, sweetheart, i can feel how wet you are, don’t lie to me.” The wet spandex material is offering the perfect amount of friction.

Joel can feel the telltale warmth in his groin of a pending orgasm. This might be over swiftly but he’ll make sure it won’t be the only time.

“I’m gonna come, sweetheart, paint those nice pants a lil white, huh, how bout’ that?”

Joel is on cloud nine, rambling in horny stupor.

“I’ll make a mess of you, my good little slut,” and that’s all it takes. He’s groaning loudly, frantically shaking from the harsh unloading of his heavy balls.

Unfortunately he can’t bask in the moment because he hears your father’s voice call for him. He tugs his length back into his jeans, closes his zipper and turns to leave, but not before landing a smack to your buttocks.

“That ass is a fucking present,” he leans down to your ear and whispers “can’t wait to unpack it.”

©️ evolnoomym 2025. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[fancylala4]

Fucking weebs. Why the fuck are they even on a post asking people how good the English dub is? This type of comment is irrelevant there. Also, who gives a fuck? As long as the dub is good, this sort of thing doesn’t matter.

Also, this isn’t a hot take or unpopular opinion. These weebs say this everywhere because they want to feel special. Also because they feel insecure about this as they are in the minority in this opinion. Most people want (and in some cases need) dubs to watch anime.

Another thing. Correct me if I’m wrong but didn’t Naoko have a say in who got cast as the characters in the viz dub? If this is true then the English dub is good going by that stupid logic above. Does this weeb think they know better than the creator of this franchise?

[flowersforbucky]

where the lines overlap

logan howlett x reader (dofp!logan x mutant!reader)

word count: 8.7k

summary: no one gets under your skin quite as much as logan howlett - and he knows it, too. sex pollen trope.

warnings/tags: 18+ only mdni, smut, sex pollen so dub con, frenemies to lovers? they aren't enemies but logan and reader don't really get along, reader is a mutant with pyrokinesis, reader is afab, reader is described as being smaller than logan, no use of y/n, wet dream, fuck or die situation, oral, pet names (bub, princess), brief pain kink for logan, unprotected p in v, cream pie

author's note: takes place after the events of days of future past - so everyone's alive, charles is old af, and logan has a pretty streak of silver in his hair. not proofread super well so please ignore any errors.

There's certain things that you like to think about when you're pissed off. It’s a coping mechanism that you learned in therapy at the ripe age of eleven.

Go to your happy place or whatever.

For you, that's the mansion's courtyard after a fresh snowfall, and having the library all to yourself on a rainy day, and the comfort of your bedroom on one of the rare days that you aren’t teaching, or training, or on a mission.

At this point in your life, you’ve forgotten just about everything you were taught in that therapist's office. It's not like you had wanted to be there, but your parents had been worried and scared – and rightfully so. With the unexpected emergence of your pyrokinetic abilities came multiple accidental house fires born out of preteen angst.

So they did the only thing they knew to do at the time – stick you in therapy in hopes you would acquire some anger management techniques.

These days, you have a pretty good handle on your powers. With a lot of time and effort, you learned to control them – and not just control them, but yield them in a beneficial and productive way.

All of that progress comes dangerously close to going out the window anytime you're in close proximity to Logan Howlett.

Maybe all is an exaggeration – but no one else makes your fingertips burn hot with fire that threatens to break through the barrier of your skin quite like him. From his bossiness to his arrogance and attitude, you’ve clashed heads since the first day you met him.

Today is no different.

“Don’t use so much force.”

You curse as the tip of the blade impales the target a whopping three inches from the center. By far your worst throw yet, though this one isn’t entirely your fault.

You snap your head towards the unexpected but familiar voice, pulling your last dagger from the holster secured around your thigh before chucking it in his general direction. It flies past him, bouncing off the wall behind him.

You knew that it wouldn’t actually hit him. And if by some miracle it had, he’d heal in two seconds and then go right back to being a pain in your ass.

A good looking pain in your ass, admittedly. But a pain in your ass nonetheless.

He looks at you with an amused expression. “See? Too much force.”

“I didn’t know that having giant forks for hands made you an expert on throwing knives.”

He exhales a breathy laugh, staring at you for several seconds before turning to pick the dagger up from the ground. He then proceeds to collect the rest of the knives that you had previously thrown from the body of the practice target.

In heavy silence, he struts over to you with the daggers in hand. He turns to face a wooden target board, finding the balance point of the knife before sending it flying through the air.

Bullseye.

“A long time ago, when I first joined this team, Charles made me practice a non-power related method of self-defense, too.” He pauses, lining the second dagger up with the practice dummy. To no surprise, it’s another perfect throw.

“Wanna guess what I chose?”

You snatch the remaining knife out of his hand.

“How to annoy someone by sneaking up on them and giving them unsolicited advice while they are minding their own business?”

You position your feet once again, holding the knife up in preparation to take aim. Your eyes dart back and forth between the blade and the target ahead of you. You hesitate, feeling nervous under his gaze.

Logan moves from standing beside you, to standing behind you. Your breath catches in your throat as his large figure looms over you. If he were to took a step forward, his chest would brush against your back.

He uses the tip of his boot to nudge your heel forward half an inch, adjusting your stance. He takes your right hand in his, and you have to consciously remind yourself to breathe.

A wave of annoyance washes over you that he’s able to fluster you so easily. It makes you as pissed at yourself as it does him. He’s barely touching you – his hand dwarfing yours is the only point of physical contact, but you’d think that he were pinning you up against a wall with his body.

You tell yourself the sudden light-headedness and increased heartrate is because of the newfound closeness, and nothing more. You’re used to being around Logan – the two of you live together and work together. His general presence is nothing new. But the intimacy of your current predicament is.

And maybe the fact that notes of tobacco and bourbon are infiltrating your senses doesn’t help.

“As unsolicited as my advice may be,” he says lowly as he pulls your hand back slightly, “I give it because if there is ever a situation where someone's trying to hurt you, and you’re unable to light them on fire for some reason, I would really hope that you could at least impale them.”

He tightens his hold on your hand, and then snaps both of your wrists forward. Surprisingly, your brain registers to release your grip just in time. When the tip of the blade impales the center of the target perfectly, he drops your hand.

But he doesn’t move from behind you.

“Much better. Now come back upstairs. Charles needs to see all of us in his office.”

••••••

You and Logan are the last people to enter Charles’ office.

Storm, Scott, Jean, Marie, and Bobby have all found places to sit throughout the small room. Logan chooses to lean against the door that clicks shut behind him, while you exhale in relief at the sight of an empty chair on the opposite side of the room, next to Marie.

“Ah, how nice of you two to join us,” Charles greets. “I was starting to think that Logan got lost on his way to retrieve you.”

You force out a laugh, earning a side-eye from Marie as Charles launches back into whatever he had been in the middle of before you two interrupted.

“Everything okay?” Marie murmurs to you. “You looked a little sick when you walked in.”

“Oh, yeah,” you shrug her off without looking at her. You keep your eyes on Charles. “Yeah, I'm just tired. Been training all morning.”

What were you supposed to tell her? That you were thankful to be wearing a tactical suit so that Logan couldn’t see all of the goosebumps that bloomed across your skin when he was practically breathing down your neck less than five minutes ago? Or that the walk back up to Charles’ office was filled with a loaded silence in place of your usual bickering and banter?

Marie might be one of your closest friends, and you trust her, but Logan is something of a fatherly figure to her. There’s no way you’re letting her hear those words come from your mouth.

You try your hardest to focus on all of the information that Charles throws at you. You’re all to leave on a mission early tomorrow morning. When he explains where you’re going and why, chills run down your spine.

Alberta, Canada – more specifically, Alkali Lake. All of your friends seem to tense up at the mere mention of the place.

You dig your teeth into your lower lip, fighting the urge to sneak a glance to try to gauge Logan's reaction. You’ve never been to Alkali Lake before, and you’re far from excited about going – you can only imagine how he feels, given his history with the abandoned military base.

After no word of any activity surrounding the base for years, Charles had been made aware that the recent disappearance of a group of young adult humans had been traced back to Alkali Lake – to a modern day subsidiary of the group Weapon X.

The same group responsible for Logan’s skeleton being made from adamantium.

This, of course, is where all of you come in.

After a detailed rundown of the goals for tomorrow – the main one being safe extraction of the humans – Charles dismisses all of you to rest for the remainder of the day.

When everyone stands up, you finally risk glancing at Logan, but he’s already opening the door to Charles’ office and strutting away.

••••••

Thick stubble scratches your innermost thighs as sharp teeth and soft lips alternate between kissing and biting the sensitive flesh between your legs.

His face is covered in your slick from the three orgasms he’s already pulled from you with his tongue. He lays nestled between your legs, pinning you to the mattress beneath you. Your thighs rest across his shoulders, his hands splayed across your belly.

You're putty in his hands.

“I've gotta say, the sounds you make when you cum are way cuter than the sounds I'm used to hearing from you,” Logan muses against your cunt. His voice sends a vibration over your already overstimulated core.

You can only guess that the sounds he’s referring to are annoyed sighs and you telling him to shut the fuck up, but right now, you don't care enough to ask for any clarification.

“Yeah?” You yelp when his tongue flicks against your swollen clit. “Maybe if you spent less time pissing me off you’d get to—”

You're cut off by him plunging the tip of his index finger inside you. You writhe against him, your walls constricting around the digit.

“Less time pissing you off, more time letting you fuck my fingers and face. Got it.”

The slamming of a door somewhere outside of your room causes you to bolt upright in your bed.

You open your eyes to darkness except for the red glow of the numbers on your digital alarm clock that read 12:26 in the morning. Your heart feels as if it’s going to beat right out of your chest, and your skin is clammy with a thin layer of sweat. You throw your covers away from you in an attempt to cool yourself off.

“What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck—”

You whisper the three words to yourself over and over again until your breathing resumes a normal pattern.

You’re alone, of course. In the comfort of your private room, where you had fallen asleep several hours ago. The difference between now and then is an uncomfortable pool of wetness between your legs, soaking your underwear.

You can’t even recall the last time you had such a vivid sex dream. It felt utterly lifelike – you reach down between your legs, trailing your fingers over the skin of your inner thighs where you had felt his beard tickle and tease you.

How the fuck are you supposed to look him in the eye tomorrow, when you’re having to work together to rescue humans from Alkali Lake? How are you supposed to come up with smart-ass remarks for his endless taunting and teasing when you’re going to be trying your hardest to not replay the images of his hazel eyes looking up at from between your thighs?

“Get a fucking grip,” you whisper hiss to yourself.

It’s Logan. The same Logan who acted like he was too good to say more than ten words to you the first half a year that you were with the team. The same Logan that tries to get you benched for the dumbest, smallest reasons he can think of. The same Logan that condescendingly calls you kid or princess every chance he gets because he knows it gets under your skin.

You need a glass of water. And some fresh air, and a cold shower—

You start by picking up the pair of sweatpants that you’d discarded before falling asleep a few hours ago. You step back into them, deciding to trek to the kitchen for some ice water. Your mouth feels as dry as cotton.

As you approach the end of the hallway that leads from the team member's bedrooms to the kitchen, you hear the soft shuffling of footsteps and see low lighting that spills from the refrigerator.

As soon as you step into the kitchen, you come to a halt. You recognize the large frame standing in front of the open fridge right away.

Of fucking course it would be him. And of fucking course he wouldn’t be wearing a shirt.

You clear your throat to announce your presence, not quite trusting your voice to speak. He looks at you over his shoulder, a bottle of beer pressed to his lips.

You walk over to the cabinet beside him, keeping your eyes off of him entirely as you get a glass.

“What's got you awake at this hour?” He closes the fridge, leaning back against the edge of the countertop. The only light in the room now comes from the small, dim bulb above the sink.

If he only fucking knew, you think. If he only knew that the real reason you are out of bed right now is because you’d just woken up from an extremely graphic, jarring dream of you riding his face.

You fill the cup up with cold water from the kitchen sink and take a large swig before once again turning to face him.

“Could ask you the same thing,” you answer with a vague gesture to his half-dressed form and beer bottle.

He takes in your appearance, too. His eyes trail from your exposed feet, to your baggy sweatpants, and up to your even baggier t-shirt before settling on your face. You feel particularly vulnerable under his gaze right now. You compare how you look to how he looks – with his stupid abs that look like God himself chiseled them from stone and his sweatpants that hang just a little too comfortably.

You sip on your water just to keep from biting your lip.

“Guess we were both thirsty,” he shrugs as he takes another sip of his beer.

“Guess so,” you hum, and because you don’t want to fall into an awkward silence and it’s the only thing you can think to add, you say, “Nervous about the mission?”

His expression darkens and posture tenses at your question. “I am,” he admits. “And if you knew as much as I do about that place, you’d be nervous, too.”

You huff. Your grip tightens around the glass in your hand at the mere insinuation that he knows your feelings. “Who says that I’m not?”

“If you’re going, you’re not nervous enough.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. You take a deep breath, knowing damn well the direction that this conversation is headed. You’d heard it all from him before – anything to keep you as far away from him as possible.

“Of course I’m going, Logan. Whether you think I’m good at it or not, it’s my job.”

“It’s not that I don’t think you’re good at your job. It’s about experience—”

You laugh, cutting him off. You can feel the telltale warmth of fire beginning to form beneath the tips of your fingers, your irritation threatening to bubble over.

“Experience?” you exclaim. “Do I need to remind you that I’ve been with this team for three years now? Just because I’m not two hundred years old like you doesn’t mean that I don’t have experience.”

“I’m very aware of how long you’ve been with this team, bub,” he says calmly, which makes you all the more heated.

“For three years you’ve spewed every bullshit reason you can think of to keep me on the sidelines,” you laugh. “I wish you’d fucking admit that you just don’t like me. It’d be a lot more respectable than acting like you’re worried about—”

Logan’s gaze drops to the glass in your hand, making you come to an abrupt pause. You follow his stare, realizing that you’ve managed to melt the glass where your fingertips grip the glass. Water begins to leak out from the holes, spilling onto your sweatpants and the floor below you.

There’s no visible flames emanating from your fingertips. Your anger hadn’t progressed to full on fire, just intense heat, but still. No one else makes you come as close to losing control as him.

No one. And he seems to know it, too. You can tell by the smug look on his face.

You dump what little liquid is left into the sink before chucking the distorted glass into the garbage.

You start to storm past him, to get away from him and go back to your room without another word, when he grabs you by the wrist. You look at him in bewilderment – this is the second time in the last twenty-four hours that he has held your hand in his.

“Didn’t know you were so hot and bothered over me,” he says with an amused smirk.

You rip your hand away from him, an exaggerated look of disgust on your face. Your recent dream pops into your head and you have to remind yourself that he’s not Jean or Charles – he can’t read your mind.

“You're lucky that you've got those handy healing powers,” you spit as you once again begin exiting the kitchen. “If I thought there was a chance of it actually shutting you up, I’d burn more than just Charles’ vintage glassware.”

You hear him say your name, but you’re already speed walking back to your room and playing your list of happy place thoughts on a loop in your head.

The soup that Storm makes when everyone at the school seems to get sick at the same time. One of your younger students picking you a flower. The smell of fresh laundry, the crisp pages of a new book.

Finally, your bedroom door clicks shut behind you.

You would have been better off just enduring the discomfort of a dry throat, you think. You don't know what's worse – not being able to sleep because you're rattled from a wet dream about him, or not being able to sleep because you've once again allowed him to get under your skin.

You crawl back under your covers, hoping that when you close your eyes, you don't see his face again.

••••••

Logan doesn’t make any more appearances in your dreams for the rest of the night, but that doesn’t stop him from being the first thing you think of when you open your eyes in the morning.

And as much as you hate to admit it to yourself, the only thing on your mind the entire flight from New York to Alberta.

From the tension that filled the air when he corrected your knife throwing technique yesterday morning to the warmth of his calloused hand when he grabbed you by the wrist in the kitchen last night, you're fighting a losing battle with no one but yourself.

As far as you can tell, he’s utterly unaffected. The fact that he chose to sit directly in front of you on the jet instead of any of the other empty seats says as much.

Not even ten minutes into the flight, you're staring at the tufts of his hair and his broad shoulders when you have to remind yourself that there's two telepaths occupying this jet with you. Though you trust both Charles and Jean to not read your mind without cause, the mere possibility of either one of them accidentally tuning into your thoughts and seeing a replay of your most recent dream or hearing you think about what it would be like to tug on those stupid fucking tufts of hair that resemble kitten ears is enough to mortify you.

You find yourself grateful that you brought a book and headphones with you to distract yourself for the duration of the trip.

An eerie feeling creeps into your bones as soon as you step onto the hanger of the jet. You can’t deny that the scenery surrounding the military base is beautiful – from the snowcapped mountains to the frost covered lake, it’s picturesque. But then your gaze settles on the large dam, and you remember what lies beneath.

“Can't say that I've missed this place,” Logan grunts, drawing your attention to him. His face is impassive other than his mouth being set in a hard, straight line as he stares out towards the water.

It's rare for Logan to elicit feelings outside of burning irritation (and maybe, possibly, sometimes arousal) from you – but right now, there’s a part of you that wishes the dynamic between the two of you were different.

As much as he infuriates you, you still care about him. You wish you could say that you didn’t, but the fact that you feel the urge to reach out and give his hand a reassuring squeeze makes that pretty hard to deny.

That urge dissipates as quickly as it comes over you. The bitter chill of the mountain wind and your teammates voices pull you back to reality. You awkwardly fiddle with one of the daggers strapped to your thigh instead.

“Jean and Scott, the two of you take the west side of the building,” Charles instructs when the group nears the discreet entrance. “Bobby and Rogue, clear the east wing. Storm and I will be keeping watch outside to make sure that no one tries to escape with the humans.”

“What about us?” you ask with a slight nod towards Logan. The fact that neither of you had been given instructions yet leaves it to be assumed that you’ll be paired up together.

You and Logan working as a pair was nothing out of the ordinary, and although that typically comes with a lot of annoyance, right now you can’t help but feel a little relieved by it.

Even if you are still irritated at him for his behavior and choice of words in the kitchen last night and even if you do think of him between your thighs every time you look at him for more than five seconds, he’s still more familiar with this place than anyone else here.

And no matter how much he makes you want to tear your hair out, there's never a time that you feel unsafe when he's near.

“You and Logan are to inspect the basement,” Charles answers. “I trust that you can refrain from melting any antique personal property until we are back at the mansion, my dear,” he adds with a knowing smirk.

“I was planning on paying you back for that,” you mumble.

“No,” Charles sighs. “You weren't. It was very expensive.”

Logan snorts, earning curious glances from everyone other than you and Charles. He does get a nasty side-eye from you – a silent promise to deliver on last night’s threat to find something to burn other than vintage glassware.

Your teammates split up into their respective groups upon entering the base, leaving you to follow Logan's lead towards the lower levels.

It’s unsettling just how silent it is. The only sounds are that of yours and Logan's boots against the ground. You'd be able to hear a pin drop from across the building.

And it's cold. The kind of cold that makes your bones ache. You instinctively flex your fingers, focusing on the warmth that radiates from the tips.

As the two of you make your way through the dark, seemingly endless basement, checking each room for signs of life, you can't help but think of Logan being here under much different circumstances.

You don't know the full extent of his time here – even he only remembers bits and pieces. But you know enough to know that this can’t be easy for him.

The fact that he's being uncharacteristically quiet only reaffirms that. He makes none of his typical taunts and jabs, only speaking when absolutely necessary.

You find yourself damn near wishing he’d make some snide comment about how you’re walking too loudly and how being partnered up with you feels like babysitting duty – if he did, maybe then you wouldn’t feel this annoying, persistent worry over his mental well-being.

“Logan,” you begin quietly as the two of you approach a large set of hospital style double doors at the end of a corridor. “I know being here can't be easy for you. I'm sorry that you have to be.”

He huffs a laugh under his breath, not meeting your eyes as he slowly pushes one of the doors open, peaking into the room before stepping inside and holding the door open for you.

“Just part of the job, bub,” he sighs. “I know what I signed up for.”

You enter, walking past him into the dark room. You shine your flashlight around the cramped space. Right away, you can tell that it’s vacant, as all of the other rooms you’ve checked have been. But it’s different – whereas most of the rooms have been completely empty, this one contains multiple twin sized beds. No frames, no pillows, just plain white sheets on each one.

“I know you do. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t hard.”

The door clicks shut behind him, and he shines his own flashlight around the room from right behind you.

“It’s okay, princess,” he snorts. “I’m a big boy. You don’t gotta pretend to be worried about me.”

Princess. Your fingertips tingle as soon as the pet name leaves his lips.

“I’m not pretend—”

The sudden, loud clicking of a deadbolt echoes through the room, silencing you. You and Logan stare at each other for a brief moment, startled and confused, before he turns around and pushes on the double doors to no avail.

He slams the full weight of his body against the metal, but it doesn't budge.

“What the fuck,” he growls in between repeated strikes against the doors.

“Logan and I are locked in a room in the basement,” you say as you click on the communication device in your left ear. “The door automatically locked after we came inside. We can’t get it open—”

You’re met with white noise.

“My fucking comm isn’t working.” Panic begins to set in as you yank the device out of your ear to inspect it. There’s a small green light indicating that it is on, but for whatever reason, it isn’t getting signal.

“Scott? Storm? Can anyone hear us?” Logan says as he messes with his own communication device. “Nothing,” he grunts after a moment of silence.

“Professor? Jean? If either of you are listening, now would be a great time to poke around in our brains and let us know.”

Nothing indeed.

“Okay,” Logan says as he backs away from the double doors. “Blast them.”

“Blast them?” You repeat, dumbfounded. “They’re industrial metal doors. They’re like two feet thick. These walls are made out of concrete.” You bang your first against the rock solid wall for emphasis. “What the fuck do you think fire is—”

“I don’t hear you suggesting anything!”

“How about not setting the room we are trapped in on fire? Only one of us has regenerative—”

A loud hissing noise sounds from above, causing you and Logan to both point your flashlights up towards the ceiling. You squint, trying to make sense of what you’re seeing. Large vents make up well over fifty percent of the ceiling, releasing what appears to be a fog like substance. It quickly transforms the air above you into one large, milky looking cloud.

“Charles! Storm! Scott – we need help. Quickly, we need help. I don’t know what’s going—”

You continue to shout into the communication device while Logan alternates between punching the door with his fists and throwing the full weight of his body against the metal, but all of your efforts are futile. The doors don’t budge, and you hear nothing but static from the comm.

You frantically glance around the room, looking for another escape route. There’s no other doors, and no windows. You’re completely enclosed by the four concrete walls and the impenetrable metal doors.

“Hold your breath!” Logan shouts as the fog descends upon the two of you, but it’s too late. The sickeningly sweet smelling mist encompasses you, making it impossible to see anything other than the thick silver vapor. It infiltrates your nostrils, causing you to gag. You cough, desperately trying to clear your airway of the substance.

It burns – your throat, your nostrils, your eyes and skin. Anywhere that it comes in contact with you feels like pins and needles.

You’re vaguely aware that Logan is somewhere to your left, asking if you’re okay in-between coughs and gags of his own. You can’t catch your breath well enough to answer him.

His hand clasps around the top of your arm. Your vision goes fuzzy and you collapse into him, light-headed from the profuse coughing.

“I think it’s dissipating,” Logan whispers in a strained voice, still supporting you so that you don’t fall to the floor. You risk cracking your eyes open the slightest bit, and realize that he’s right. There’s still a veil of mist surrounding you, but it’s no longer so opaque that you can’t see even two inches in front of your face.

You take deep breaths, making no effort to step away from him as you attempt to regain control of your breathing. Your lungs feel like they are on fire and your throat feels like you haven’t had any water in days.

“What the fuck was that?” Your voice comes out as a croak.

“Can you stand?” he asks you. You nod, reluctantly pulling away from his embrace.

As soon as he steps away from you to see if the doors are still locked, the momentary relief that you felt when the fog began to dissipate is replaced with renewed terror. The room, which was previously dark except for the light from your flashlights, suddenly glows a deep red color from the ceiling that now emits crimson fluorescence.

You open your mouth to call out for Charles or Jean again, when a throbbing sensation radiates throughout your gut. You clutch your hands over your abdomen, gasping at the sudden and awkward feeling.

Logan turns his attention away from the doors and back to you as soon as he notices how you’re hunched over. You stumble over to the bed that's closest to you, the world blurring around you in shades of red.

“Something is wrong,” you gasp out. You know you're stating the obvious – something has been wrong since the moment that the doors locked behind you.

He's next to you in two long strides, kneeling beside the bed and looking up at you in concern. The ache in your lower belly seems to worsen with his close proximity. Your skin feels feverish, making you want to peel your tactical suit off of your body.

“Tell me what you're feeling,” he demands. Other than obvious confusion and fear, he appears physically fine. You piece together that whatever that shit was, it’s effecting you much differently than it is him – undoubtedly due to his healing abilities.

You can't form a coherent sentence – all you can focus on is the way that the discomfort in your abdomen travels down to your groin, making you clench your thighs together. You have the inexplicable desire to reach out and pull him to you, as if having him as close as possible to you is the only solution for every uncomfortable thing happening to you.

“You gotta talk to me, bub. Tell me what’s going on,” he says when you don’t answer him. He puts a hand just above your knee and you have to hold back the whimper that threatens to break through your lips. He notices your pained expression and quickly withdraws his hand from your thigh.

“No!” you gasp, grabbing his hand in yours out of desperation to maintain some level of physical contact with him. “I – I don't know how to explain what’s happening. Just – I just need you to keep touching me. Please. Whatever that fog was, it’s making me feel like…”

You trail off, realizing that you must sound every bit as insane as you feel. You don’t know how to begin articulating what’s happening to you, because it makes no sense. When the silver mist first started to rain down from the ceiling, the last thing on your mind was Logan pinning you to one of these mattresses and railing you until you until you see stars. Now, you think that if he so much as stops holding your hand, you'll fucking die.

A look of clarity washes over Logan’s face – with a hint of something else that you can't quite pinpoint, too.

“I think I know what this is,” he murmurs. His stare is locked on one of the daggers strapped to your thigh. He squeezes your hand in his, though you don’t know if it’s to comfort you or himself.

“I’ve heard of this before. Didn’t know it actually exists. I came across it once when preparing a lesson on Alkali Lake—”

“What is it?” you implore.

His eyes finally flicker back up to yours. Images of last night’s dream flash through your mind again. Instead of his hand holding yours, you visualize his slender fingers pumping inside you. You stare at his lips, imaging the feeling of them sucking love bites into the meat of your inner thighs –

“It’s a chemical created for breeding experiments,” he answers after a pregnant pause. “They – Weapon X – wanted super mutants. Some of the subjects were… less than compliant. This made it so that they weren’t able to fight it.”

You let his words sink in. It’s not something you’ve ever heard of, but you don’t doubt that what he’s saying is true. How could you, with the way that your pussy is throbbing at the mere sound of his voice? Under normal circumstances, you might not read too far into that. But right now? On a mission, locked in a creepy basement, unable to get in contact with your teammates?

“Weren’t able to fight it,” you repeat slowly. “You're saying there’s only one way out of this.”

He doesn’t answer – just looks at you with sympathy. With pity.

“No,” you shake your head. You yank your hand from his grasp and move back across the mattress as the gravity of the situation hits you. To distance yourself from him feels like ripping air out of your own lungs, but the alternative is borderline unthinkable.

“I can’t – won’t ask that of you,” you declare. There’s a voice in the back of your mind that laughs at you, as if saying it’s cute that you think you have a choice. The pain and longing grow with each passing second, threatening to consume you from the inside out.

“You’re fine. It would be different if it was both of us. But you shouldn’t have to do this just because you're stuck here with me.”

“Have to? You make it sound like it would be a punishment for me,” he chuckles darkly. He finally rises from where he had been kneeling next to the bed. He stands beside the mattress, looming over you in the maroon lighting.

“Let’s not overcomplicate this, princess,” he murmurs. He grasps your face in his palm and tilts your head to look up at him. His touch is a balm – it feels like running a burn under a cold stream of water.

“I'm gonna take care of you, and then you can go right back to tolerating my existence.” He runs the calloused pad of his thumb over the swell of your bottom lip. Your eyes flutter shut, reveling in the sensation of the singular digit against your flesh.

“Besides, it’s not like you haven’t dreamed about this. Or were you moaning about someone else who just happens to have the same name as me last night?”

Your eyes shoot open at the revelation that not only had you said his name in your sleep, but he’d fucking heard you. And has the nerve to tease you about it at a time like this.

He's smirking down at you. His smugness irritates you often, but right now it’s enough to cause the tips of your fingers to burn hot. You jerk his hand away from your face, causing him to hiss when your fingers wrap around his wrist.

He chortles, his eyes rolling back in his head at the sensation. The reaction fills you with annoyance – of course he would have a fucking pain kink.

As much as it pisses you off, it also spurs you on. Blame the influence of the chemicals that you’re currently under, but the fact that he can so easily tolerate and even enjoy something that would have anyone else running in the opposite direction does something to you.

You’re past the point of finding it in you to care about consequences. You’re no longer thinking about how you’ll be able to look him in the eye when this is over, or how you’ll pretend like everything is perfectly normal when the two of you are back on the jet with your teammates.

Maybe you can fight this drug, or maybe he’s right and there’s no point in trying. Either way, you’ve decided that you're going to have him before you leave this room.

You drop his hand, bringing yours to the zipper at the neckline of your tactical suit. You slowly tug it downwards, gauging his expression as he watches you expose your chest and stomach.

For once, he’s all out of smart remarks.

A part of you feels a sense of satisfaction and wants to continue taking your time with undressing yourself, just to keep him looking at you like this – but every fiber of your being is screaming at you for more.

You waste no more time with shoving the restrictive Kevlar material down your arms, leaving you in only your bra from the waist up. Logan unfreezes at the sight, crawling onto the bed on his knees. You maneuver yourself so that you’re laying flat against the mattress, pulling him down with you.

He rips the fabric of your bra away from your breast, immediately attaching his mouth to your nipple. He rolls it between his tongue and teeth, causing you to arch your back into his touch. Your legs instinctively wrap around his hips, pinning yourself to the mattress with his body. You mewl at the feeling of your pebbled nipple in his warm mouth.

His other hand attempts to free the opposite breast, but the fabric is too tight and restrictive. He let’s out an annoyed growl, pulling back to unsheathe his claws and snip the material in between your tits, letting them spill free.

“Hey! I loved that bra—”

Your complaint dies in your throat when he slates his lips over yours.

There’s nothing slow or sensual about the way that he kisses you. He slips his tongue past your lips, moving his lips with fervency and urgency – like he needs this as badly as you do.

You buck your hips up into him, desperate for any amount of friction. He grinds down against you, his erection evident even through the thick material of both of your tactical suits.

He pulls back, breaking the kiss to unzip your suit the rest of the way down. He peels it down your thighs, only stopping to discard your boots. When you’re left in only your underwear, he looks at you with a satisfied smirk.

“So, what exactly was I doing in your dream to have you saying my name like that, huh?” he asks as he toys with the waistband of your panties.

You roll your eyes, your patience growing thinner as the ache in your belly grows stronger. He can tease you about that all he wants when you’re back in the safety of the mansion, when you’re no longer under the influence of potentially life threatening chemicals and capable of thinking of a proper comeback.

“Shut up and eat me out.”

His smirk only grows, but he doesn’t tease you any further. He tugs your panties down your legs, tossing them to the floor. He lowers himself onto his stomach, still fully dressed. Under less dire circumstances, you would’ve been eager to get him out of his clothes, too – but right now, your highest priority is feeling his mouth on you.

No wet dream could have prepared you for how euphoric it actually feels for his teeth to nip at the tender flesh of your inner thighs, or the way that his tongue draws lazy circles at your hole before his lips lock around your clit.

You writhe against him, chasing the release that you’ve been desperate for since the second the vapor first came in contact with your skin. He’s more than generous, expertly nursing at your swollen bud as he eases a slender finger inside your cunt.

One finger – that’s all it takes to feel your climax building, the coil in your lower belly tightening. You feel your walls pulse around the digit as your orgasm washes over you. You don’t even try to hold back your cries and praises of pleasure, letting him know how good he’s making you feel.

When he sits back, his lips and beard glisten with your slick in the red glow that encases you both. You push yourself into a sitting position and reach for the zipper of his suit, antsy to shed his clothing now that your physical discomfort had been quelled – at least for the time being.

He helps you, shrugging out of his vest and tugging his undershirt over his head. Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him. You’ve seen him shirtless before, but never shirtless for you. You want to dig your nails into the planes of his chest, and run your tongue along the protruding vein that disappears beyond the waistline of his pants –

You undo his belt buckle and pop open the button of his pants before hastily yanking both his pants and boxers down in one movement. His cock springs free, bobbing inches before your face. You start to adjust your position on the bed – to get on your knees and take him in your mouth – when a low chuckle causes you to pause and look up at him.

“Nuh-uh,” he tuts, earning a confused pout from you.

“You don’t want me to suck your dick?” You ask with raised brows.

“S’not about me right now, bub. I said I was gonna take care of you, and that’s what I’m gonna do. Now lay back down for me.”

You aren’t going to argue with that.

You return to your original position on the mattress, pulling him down with you. He hovers above you, using one arm to support himself on the bed. He takes his cock in his free hand, stroking his length a few times before nudging his head through your folds until he’s lubricated in your juices.

“Don’t you worry, though,” he murmurs against your lips. He teases his tip at your hole. “If you still wanna suck my dick when we get out of here, I'll let you.”

“Oh, you’re so thoughtfu—”

He sheaths himself inside you, turning the end of your retort into a gasp. He fills you entirely, stilling to allow both of you time to adjust to the sensation. The stretch is damn near blinding, making your eyes roll back into your skull. You glance down between your bodies, halfway expecting to see him jutting out of your stomach.

He fucks you similarly to how he kisses you – like this is saving him as much as it is you. It's rough, and fast, and messy – and you dread the moment that it’s over.

No one has ever filled you as completely and perfectly as him. You don’t think anyone else ever will, again.

Each drag of his cock along your walls has you clenching around him, each time his head rams against your cervix you can’t help but cry his name.

He snakes his hand in between you, reaching down to where his body collides with yours. His thumb massages over your sensitive clit.

You rake your nails down his back and he hisses in approval, snapping his hips into you at a brutal pace.

“Fuckin’ ruinin’ me for anyone else, princess,” he grunts before kissing you again.

You don't have time to overthink the sentiment before your second orgasm is washing over you. Logan cums as soon as he feels your pussy pulsating around him, fucking you until he's spilled every last drop of his warm seed deep inside you. When you're both finished, he stills inside you and rests his sweat-slicked forehead against yours as he catches his breath.

“You think it worked?” he grunts.

As if on cue, you hear the deadbolt unlock from the other side of the room. A second later, Storm’s voice sounds from your communication device that had fallen to the floor at some point.

“I don't feel like there’s a ticking time bomb inside my vagina anymore. So, I’d say yeah, it worked.”

He huffs a laugh, and then pulls out of you with a sigh.

“Logan,” you say, stopping him before he can pull away from you entirely. He stares down at you, waiting for you to continue.

You aren’t even sure what to say. Truthfully, you just weren’t ready for the moment to end and for things to go back to normal between the two of you.

“Thank you,” you spit out after a moment of loaded silence. “For… helping me,” you finish lamely.

“Don’t thank me, bub,” he chuckles. “It’s far from the worst thing that's happened to me in this place.”

••••••

You sleep the entire flight back to New York.

And as soon as you've showered and your head hits the pillow after returning home to the mansion, you sleep for another ten hours. Every time you wake up and think that you're finally well-rested, your body says otherwise and you're asleep again within minutes.

You wish you could say it’s a dreamless sleep, but that would be a lie. You see Logan’s face every time you close your eyes.

But it's different than the last dream you had of him. It isn’t images of his head between your thighs or his fingers slipping in and out of you.

It’s just.. him. His presence. The lingering feeling of his lips on yours, the light flavor of tobacco and menthol.

And the echo of the words he spoke as he teased you with the head of his cock and made you cum around his length.

“Don’t you worry, though. If you still wanna suck my dick when we get out of here, I’ll let you.”

“Fuckin’ ruinin’ me for anyone else, princess.”

When you wake, the ache between your thighs for him remains, despite the fact that the effects of the drugs had long since faded.

You know you shouldn’t read too far into words spoken while the two of you were locked in that room. But you can’t help but keep thinking that he wasn’t under the influence of chemical subjugation. Which leaves you questioning if he meant the things he said, or if he was just trying to lighten a scary, impossible situation for both of you.

You suppose there’s only one way to find out.

When you finally gather the courage the knock on his door, the sun has set and everyone has retired to their bedrooms for the evening.

You almost dash back into your own room during the few seconds that it takes him to open his door. He wears sweatpants, a plain black t-shirt, and a surprised expression.

“Hey, bub,” he greets you apprehensively. You don't normally make a habit of stopping by his room for late night chats. “Was starting to worry that you’d fallen into a coma.”

He opens his door wider, motioning with his head for you to come inside.

“Felt like it,” you give a small laugh. “Whatever was in that shit wore me out.” You take a seat on the edge of his bed, nervously wringing your hands together.

“You feeling better now?” he asks as he leans against his dresser, crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes trail over the large muscles of his chest and shoulders. The memory of his body caging you to the twin sized mattress in the basement of the bunker flashes through your mind.

You nod, hoping that it’s convincing.

“All things considered,” you shrug. “I just wanted to check in with you. Has Charles… said anything?”

What you're actually trying to ask is if Charles interrogated him about where the two of you were during the mission, why no one was able to contact either of you, and why you have been so exhausted that you've done nothing but sleep for the last day, but you trust that he knows what you mean.

“He hasn’t said anything, but..” he trails off, eyes darting around the room to avoid your gaze. “It’s Charles. Safe to assume he knows and is just being decent by not saying anything.”

“Right,” you murmur.

If he doesn’t already know, it's only a matter of time before you slip up and imagine the feeling of his lips on yours or the sounds of his moans in the middle of a mission debriefing.

“And the humans..? They’re all okay?”

“They are,” he assures you with a soft smile. “They’re all receiving medical attention, and most have been reunited with their loved ones.”

You breathe a sigh of relief. “No thanks to us, I guess.”

“No,” he laughs. “I suppose not.”

He pushes himself off the dresser, walking the few feet to where you perch at the edge of the mattress. He sits down beside you, his thigh brushing against yours. He smells of Old Spice deodorant and spearmint toothpaste, and it makes you the room spin around you.

“But everyone’s okay. They’re safe. And you’re safe. That’s what matters.”

You nod, not trusting your voice to speak. He’s close enough that you can practically feel the heat from his body. You risk looking at his face, your gaze flickering between his eyes and his lips.

“Yeah,” you finally agree. “You’re right. Well, I’ll let you get some rest. I just wanted to check in with—”

You start to stand up, when he cups your jaw in his hand and pulls your face to his. He’s hesitant in a way that he wasn’t yesterday – he gives you the opportunity to pull away before he sweeps his tongue across your bottom lip, as if asking for permission.

When you don’t give any kind of indication that you want him to stop, he pulls you flush against him and slips his tongue past your lips. You bring your hand to the back of his neck, twining your fingers through his hair.

He takes his time with you. Whereas yesterday’s kisses were filled with urgency and desperation, todays is tender and sensual. Now, you’re allowed the luxury of taking your time.

He lays down against the mattress, pulling you with him. You straddle his stomach, your lips never once breaking contact. His hands grip the globes of your ass, his fingers digging into the meat through your pajama pants.

You grind against the hard planes of his abdomen, earning a throaty growl from him.

He breaks away, nipping at your bottom lip with his teeth.

“I said something I didn’t entirely mean yesterday,” he whispers, out of breath.

“What?” you ask, sitting upright and looking down at him. “You aren’t going to let me suck your dick?”

“No,” he chuckles. “God, no. I meant that. If you still want to, that is—”

“What is it, then?” you interrupt with a playful nudge to his chest.

“I said you could go back to tolerating my existence. But I hope you wanna do a little bit more than just tolerate me.”

You laugh under your breath, leaning down to press your lips to his once more.

“I could see myself doing a little bit more than just tolerating you.”

oooops i accidentally wrote another fic where logan overhears something that he wasn't supposed to 😅🫠 did not originally plan for that to happen hahaha

check out some of my other logan fics -

by the end of the night

dog tags drabble

[allfearstofallto]

hii! can i make a request?

I've been thinking about angsty things a bit. say if, reader got pregnant, would she hate it? how would scara/childe react? in my opinion, id like to think that scara thinks of this as a way to tie her down to him more, plus its canon he likes kids!! and as for childe i think he'd be very very happy since he has soooo many siblings, (maybe he wants a lot of kids too??)

and..what if reader miscarried? i have this thought of where scara would still be cold to her but give her breaks and more space than usual, but what if reader completely locks herself in and then when he confronts her about it they get into a huge argument, how would scara tackle that, would he resort to abusive tactics and would it increase readers hatred & distance more?

just a brainrot, you dont have to write about it if you're not comfy^_^

This took me so so so long!! I'm so sorry if you were waiting for it!!

I don't typically write for things like pregnancy because it makes me uncomfortable, but I'd be lying if I said I do not absolutely fucking adore angst and hopelessness.

Parasite

Yandere! Scaramouche x Fem! Reader

Forced Marriage AU

TW: 18+ MDNI, Dark Content, Forced marriage, Pregnancy, Miscarriage, Mentions of Dub/Non-Con

A week late turned into two. Two turned into a month. A month turned into three. And three turned into unusual cravings for foods that didn't go together. Sickness and vomiting clouded the hours of your mornings. Dread filled your body the second you realized what this was. Stress makes your cycles late, you told yourself, stress makes your entire body change, and this was a stressful situation, but stress wasn't causing this, was it?

Scaramouche could tell the changes in you immediately. As someone who constantly kept tabs on your life, it was only fair to assume that he'd noticed your slight fluctuation in weight and lack of asking for your monthly cloths. When you were called into his office, you felt a hot flash all over your body, you assumed it was fear, but it could've also been nausea.

His office was a place filled with dread. The air in the room was too thick and worst of all, he was there. The room made you feel small, the only good thing about it was that he was usually too focused on his mile high stacks of paperwork. Except today. Today his razor sharp gaze was focused on your trembling form as you bowed to him, his eyes following down, then back up.

“Answer me honestly,” he began, hands planted on the wood in front of him, “Are you with child?”

If you could throw up again, you would. Of course, you knew all this time, but you never wanted to say it. You hoped, just hoped and prayed that maybe if you never acknowledged it, it would all go away. It would all be a bad dream. But it was true. There was something disgusting living inside you. And it was his.

“I believe so, my lord,” the words couldn't even completely fall from your lips before you were a blubbering, sobbing mess of anguish and fear. Despite the fact that you were completely breaking down before him, he had a small smile on his face, like he was proud of what he'd done to you.

“That's good,” he said calmly, wiping away your tears and planting a forced kiss upon your face. His touch felt cold as ice, but his hands against you made you want to melt your skin away.

The reaction to the “good news” was immediate, whether that was good or bad was up in the air, but everything changed. The tight obi of all the kimono you owned would put too much pressure on your budding stomach, new one's were ordered to be ready as you grew more in size. Your diet was changed completely, less of the Inazuma raw delicacies and more lean meat and vegetables. Daily classes of calligraphy and tea ceremonies were switched to resting with your feet up or light stretching, everything to keep you happy and healthy during your pregnancy.

The biggest change was Scaramouche himself. A man filled with so much hatred and disgust, was suddenly being kinder. Or trying to at least. You watch him open his mouth to make a comment, only to shut it again in favor of saying something still rude, but less insulting.

The Scaramouche that believed that he could take your body whenever he pleased was long gone, even though that was what got you in this predicament in the first place. He'd taken to leaving you in the middle of the night and going to the bathroom to sate his urges. He'd come back with cold damp hands and lay next to you, a protective hand over your stomach as he kissed your cheek and told you how much he loved you.

The day you saw blood between your legs and felt an aching pain in your stomach was a joyous one indeed. A part of you wanted to scream out in glee, but you didn't want to wake your already on edge husband. The blood that coated your fingers could only mean one thing. One good thing. It was gone. You were free of it. Almost immediately, the dark air that seemed to linger over your body vanished and you let out a sigh of relief.

Scaramouche was informed shortly before breakfast that same morning. You relayed the information to a maid, who then told him, whispering the words in his ear so quietly, it sounded like she was speaking gibberish. His face, his expression, changed to one shock, then horror, then pain. You didn't even know he could make such a face, yet there he was with tears in his eyes.

“Wh-what happened?” There was that tone again. The one you were used to. The anger and distaste for you in his voice. He slammed his fist down on the desk, turning his head away from you as his voice became high and breathy, so desperate for answers, “What did I do wrong?”

You stood in his office awkwardly, even this display from a person you hated, this display of agony was hurting you as well. You thought it would be funny. Seeing the man who pulled you from your home and forced you into marriage in pain was supposed to make you happy, but you felt your own chest clenching, felt your hands tremble.

“I-i suppose…I was stressed, my lord,” you muttered, his already labored breaths hitching at those words. The few months you were carrying that thing inside your body, was when he asked for less from you. He expected you to laze around all day and relax. For your body to fall into a daze like trance of naps and delicious food. He wanted happiness for both you and his child that you carried, yet you were still the most stressed you'd ever been in your entire life, knowing that he had something inside you. Something that would continue to fester and grow, until it eventually ate you alive.

He sat back in his office chair dejected, hurt, and empty. Scaramouche's normally sharp, glaring eyes were wide as he stared at the ceiling, body limp as he bit his lip, “Leave me,” he sighed, his voice barely above a whisper. Had it not been for the quietness of the room, you wouldn't have heard him.

Leave him you did, closing the door as silently as possible and not lingering behind. You felt yourself finally stop tensing, telling yourself that all your woes were over, for now. The thing was gone. You were happy. For once, even if unintentionally, you'd won over your captor.

[liliannadelaphinehartifelt]

Lucifer - [ FORSAKEN ]

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I need to write about him…! I literally can't stop thinking about him…like seriously he's been plaguing my thoughts for dayyysssss!!!

WARNINGS: [ MDNI ] + [ NSFW ] + [ SMUT ] + [ CORRUPTION & INNOCENCE KINK ] + [ SUPERIORITY COMPLEX LUCIFER ] + [ SLIGHT DUB CON ]

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It’s no secret that Lucifer gets obsessed with showing others the pleasures of the world and knowing you have yet to experience intimacy and now shy away from it in the afterlife simply because you fear being known as a virgin even in hell drives the fallen angel insane.

He figures your secret out quicker than anyone, always watching you closer than most, going out of his way to cluster and spoil you any way he can. When he's sure you're comfortable with his subtle advances, he moves into lingering touches and straightforward compliments.

You start to anticipate Lucifer’s attention, drowning in it whenever he's near. It’s a strange addiction you can’t shake, never having the chance to experience someone dote on you as much as he does, and he'll give into your sweet pining for him every time and not because he wants to be friends. Though it is rather flattering to his ego that you only have eyes for him.

His true interests in you stem from the desire to turn your soft words into moans of his name, imagining how the sparkle in your eyes will darken with pure lust when he fucks you for the first time, and deciding whether to make you take his cock once or more times than you'll be able to remember.

He simply has to lower your guard first, gifting you expensive items, studying your behavior outside of his company, and diligently building your self esteem with every word he says. It’s a methodical, harrowing approach, but he’s quite skilled at it.

Lucifer says all the right things and does what he can to earn your already cemented trust, and when he's sure you won't refuse his requests, he comes to your room late at night with a proposition.

He doesn't say much of anything when you allow him inside your room, eyes glowing brightly as he watches you perch yourself on the edge of your bed, gripping his cane to keep from touching the soft skin that isn't hidden by your short nightgown.

At first, his staring is something you're used to, don't see as a sign of desire, but rather a habit you assumed he has with every sinner. After a long moment, you begin to squirm, wanting him to speak since anxiety was your worst enemy, and being barely clothed in his presence was a reasonably new milestone for you.

“D-did you need something, Lucifer?” you ask him with a sheepish smile, and the blonde chuckles, biting his lip as he trails his gaze up to yours, “Yes, actually, I do, angel...” He shifts, doing away with his cane and top hat by the snap of his fingers before walking to stand in front of you. He may lack height, but you're shorter, especially sitting on a bed, and the instant height difference flutters your heart. A weird warmth spreads through your body as his scent engulfs you, a mix of pine and apple pouring off his tailored suit in waves and only intensifying as he brings a hand under your chin to lift it.

Lucifer is deliberately gentle, not wanting to startle you but drinking in your timid reactions to his touch. “Wanna help me with something important, sweetheart? It's fine if you don't want to, but you're the only one I trust to ask..” he smiles softly, holding your stare as it wanders his face for any clue to his true motives, but you find no hidden intent on his expression.

You're not naive, to a certain point, but he's far too skilled and manipulative to let you in on his goal, and so when you hesitate to answer him, Lucifer feigns a frown.

“Wouldn't you like to help me, baby doll? I'm your sovereign, after all, and it's only a small favor between friends..” his hold on your chin tightens a tad, and you gulp from the growing pressure he inflicts. You aren't allowed to look away from him then; the space between your bodies was inching towards non-existent as he nudged your knees apart with one leg, and you shivered as the fabric of his pants nestled between your inner thighs. A tender gasp leaves your lips as the fallen angel lowers his head, gradually caging you under his weight and closer to the bed itself, “You'll help me, won't you, sweet girl..” he purrs against your lips, breathing in the sultry whine of compliance you let out, “I'll help you, Luci.” You finally comply, running out of breath by the second, and deathly afraid of disappointing him with a refusal.

He grins, a deep laugh leaving his lips as you lift a hand to keep him at bay for a moment. “W-wait maybe I shouldn’t be doing this….with you…” is you can pant out as he grimaces at your hesitant action.

You don't want him to stop touching you, but you can't think straight with him this close, either, so you're prepared to break away from the devil himself until he smirks before getting a hold of your wrists. “What are you-??” The question dies on your tongue as he pushes you down entirely, grasping your jaw harshly as he kisses you gently, using his other hand to pin your hands above your head. You struggle underneath him for a second, trying to speak but too intrigued by the taste of his tongue gliding against yours, dazzled by the unfamiliar sparks in your core as he presses his thigh right on your clothed cunt.

That singular adjustment had your toes curling, a distinctive wet patch forming in your lace panties and rubbing off on his pristine white pants, and your face deepened another shade of red at the realization.

Why was this happening to you?

How could he possibly endure your hidden filthiness with so much passion?

Didn't he know you'd never done this before?

Never knew how to please another, let alone satisfy the king of Hell?

You felt a sliver of shame run up your spine, your heart beating louder as fear settled in your chest, and a sheen of tears coating your vision. “M’ sorry… I'm getting your clothes…a-all messy,” you whimper into Lucifer's mouth, absentmindedly chasing his lips for another kiss as he pulls away slightly to address your thoughtful apology -as unnecessary as it is.

“No need to apologize, sweetheart. I love to feel how wet you get for me…Dont you? Means you’re enjoying my touch…” he drawls nonchalantly, pecking your lips as you nod in agreement, tentatively rutting your hips against his thigh for more friction. Lucifer hums in approval, studying your new-found reactions and encouraging your body to meld into his.

“It’s only natural, angel. I know you can’t help it….”

The remnants of purity shatter from your consciousness when he sits up above you, suit jacket and vest long gone, and his dress shirt halfway undone to expose his ivory skin. Your break out into a cold sweat spotting the rise in his crotch, a noticeable imprint of his cock stretching the white fabric of his pants, making your head spin.

Still, your focus on his heavenly features falters as he spreads your legs to rest on either side of his hips. A jolt of embarrassment hits you as cold air floods over your wet cunt, practically leaking though he's barely touched you there, and you're tempted to cover up in shame as he lowers his gaze to the sight.

“Please don't look-” you start to protest, voice shakey with worry, but he ignores your plight while trialing a hand down your torso until it cupped your mound. A pool of arousal coated his palm, drizzling past his fingers on contact, and you cried out from the subtle touch. Lucifer cursed, taken aback by your sensitivity but even more enticed by the thought of using it against you.

“It's hard to believe no one ever laid a hand on such a pleasant sinner like you…” he mutters incredulously, fixated on toying with your clit, circling his palm over it while dragging two fingers further past your folds. You gripped the duvet with tight fists, eyes rolling to the back of your head as heat entrapped your core and body tossing about to lessen the new sensation in fear of a high you'd never known before.

“Don't make me…please. Th-this…I-I can't..” you babble softly, reaching to stop his hand with one of your own and attempting to close your legs for an extra measure of protection.

Lucifer clicks his tongue, a twinge of anger biting his pride, “Keep your hands to yourself, or I'll do it for you..” he growls, and you throw him a pleading look, afraid of his authority and terrified of disappointing him.

“But I-” you start to counter his order but yelp instead as he pushed your legs back open, landing a harsh slap on your cunt as a warning, and you heed it this time with a gracious moan. Lucifer's eyes are narrow as your face falls slack, a clear indication you enjoy him being rough despite experiencing intimacy for the first time, “It’s so easy isn’t it?…Enjoying another’s touch… It’s a shame you had to wait so long for it, Angel. Breaks my heart…” he mumbles, a triumphant smirk on his face as he finally pushes one then two fingers into your hot walls.

You mewl at the sudden but slow intrusion, greedily clenching down on his digits with a lazy smile adorning your face, nodding slowly as he starts to pump them experimentally.

“You're tight…warm too. Mmm, you feel so much better than I imagined, sweetheart. Well worth the wait…” The King of Hell praises you fervently, finding your sweet spots without much effort and abusing them to his heart's content. Your mouth fell agape, poised to speak but failing to do so as tempered cries left it instead. You were in hell, and the devil was making your skin crawl with a new sin you'd never thought of indulging.

Pure lust.

Lucifer intended to get you addicted to it, addicted to him, and nothing else.

xxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxx

Should I make a part 2 or leave it be??? Hmmm. Choices…choices… I hope you enjoyed it either way cause it was just sitting in my drafts for the longest time.

NO TAGS: 🚫

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

Al don't be mad but you have some competition from this devilish twink- WOAH?!?? Who called him that?!?? (Not me I swearrr) ❤️ Alright ill stop. Credits to creator..

[theotherbuckley]

right here - read on ao3

In an instant his veins turn to ice, his body stills, his legs shake as they try to hold him up. The voice on the other end of the line keeps speaking, but he can’t hear her. Can only hear the last four words repeating around and around in his mind.

There was an accident.

There was an accident.

There was an accident.

There was an accident.

Tommy.

He’s moving before he can register it, half way out the door, holding his wallet and keys even though he doesn’t remember picking them up. He doesn’t remember hanging up the phone but the woman is no longer on the line. He knows which hospital to go to, even though he doesn’t remember her saying it.

His mind feels like tunnel vision; hazy and dark around the edges, focused on one thing only. Tommy, Tommy, Tommy.

He shouldn’t be driving.

He drives anyway.

He arrives 25 minutes later, wishing he was faster, but he can’t even remember the journey anyway.

The hospital lights are too bright and sterile as he walks in. They make him want to itch under his skin. There’s a buzz in the air, beeping of various machines. He can’t hear it over the thud of his heart beat in his ear. He doesn't remember if he locked his car. He has insurance, it doesn't matter. 

Lub dub.

Why is he thinking about his car?

There’s someone talking to him. He’s at the front desk. They’re asking his name.

Lub dub.

“I— Evan, um, Evan Buckley. You— someone called me? For Tommy. Thomas Kinard.”

Thomas is his father’s name. He doesn’t like Thomas.

Lub dub.

“One moment,” she says, turning to the computer screen.

“Mr Kinard has just come out of surgery. He’s in room 135 in the east wing. The doctor’s there can fill you in.”

Surgery.

Lub dub.

Surgery.

Lub dub.

Surgery.

Lub dub.

He barely remembers to say thank you, before he’s running through the halls. He wishes he didn't know exactly which way to go. 

Tommy looks small under the burning white lights, drowned in an oversized hospital gown.

Lub dub.

Tommy never looks small. Tommy makes Buck look small. Right now he feels like a giant in all the worst ways.

Lub dub.

He can feel every inch of his skin. It feels like there’s both ice and fire running through his vein. Burning cold through him. He can feel each hair standing on end, feel each beat of his heart pulse through his body like a tremor. He feels clumsy, like his limbs aren't his own, his mind feels too small for this body. He feels too big as he looks at his boyfriend from behind a glass window.

Lub dub.

Christopher's iPad is in the backseat of the Jeep. He forgot to take it home. He hopes nobody steals it.

Hopefully he remembered to lock the door.

Why does it matter right now?

“He’s in a medically induced coma, for now.” There’s a doctor standing by his side. He doesn’t know when she got there. He doesn’t know how long he’s been staring.

A coma. The words echo in his mind.

A coma.

Lub dub.

This hurts far worse than being struck by lightning ever could.

It always hurts so much more when it’s not him, when it’s someone he loves instead.

He’d take being struck by lightning a thousand times over this.

Lub dub.

Thinking about his car feels easier than looking at Tommy. He must have locked the door, it's like second nature. Eddie always gives him this look when Buck double checks the door. There's no way he forgot this time. 

“We hope to get him out of it after a day or two, just enough time for his body to heal a little from his injuries.”

What injuries? His brain is screaming. His heart aches in his chest. Lub dub. Lub dub. Lub dub. It feels like it’s trying to escape, trying to break through this glass barrier and get to where it belongs; with Tommy.

Lub dub. Lubdub. Lubdublubdublubdub—

“What—what happened?” He croaks out over the ringing in his ears.

“It was a fucking bird of all things,” a voice behind him says. This one he recognises.

“Lucy?” He turns to her, forcing his eyes to move away from where his boyfriend lays. It physically pains him to do so. Feels like he’s ripping a part of himself off as he turns away.

“He didn’t see it coming. Just flew straight through his window, wasn’t much he could do after that.”

“He’s lucky,” the doctor speaks this time. Buck doesn’t think this is lucky. Luck is winning the lottery, luck is finding the man of your dreams on a random day in the middle of a hurricane. Luck is not crashing a helicopter from a bird strike.

“A fall from that height, with only the injuries he sustained. He was talking when he got here. The only surgery he needed was a minor bone realignment of his leg which took most of the impact. He’s lucky it wasn’t much worse.”

Buck hears the words she doesn’t say.

He’s lucky to be alive.

Lub dub. Lub dub. Lub dub.

His hands are shaking.

"I don't remember if I locked my car." He's not sure why he says it, but the words come out anyway. 

"You don't—Buckley," Lucy sighs. "Give me your keys." He obliges. His brain feels kind of foggy. He returns his attention to his boyfriend. The man who needs him right now but Buck's too busy thinking about his damn car. 

“Can I—Can I sit with him?” His voice comes out as not much more than a whisper.

“Of course.” The doctor nods, gesturing him towards the door.

Each step he takes feels unsteady but he moves anyway. His heart beat feels louder in his ears, like it knows it’s getting closer to the man he loves.

Lub dub.

He hesitates in the doorway, for reasons he can’t understand himself.

His heart skips a beat.

He walks through anyway. Takes a seat right by Tommy’s side. He lifts his shaking hand, pauses and looks towards the doctor who nods an okay.

He takes Tommy’s hand in his own. His hands are still shaking and he squeezes Tommy tighter to try and get them to stop. There’s bruising along his arms. Purple blotches scattered up their lengths. But the doctor’s right; all things considered he looks better than he could be.

There’s a cast on his leg. He remembers the firetruck crushing his bones and his own leg winces in sympathy.

Buck takes a deep breath. His heart slows slightly, matching that of his boyfriend’s.

A single tear escapes through his eyelid and Buck lets out a sob that he didn’t even realise he was holding back.

All at once, everything catches up to him. He collapses his head onto Tommy’s bed, never letting go of his hand. He cries, the sound muffled by the mattress. His body shakes with each hiccuping sob, but he feels better than before.

Because Tommy’s still here.

Right here.

His hand is limp beneath Buck’s own, but it’s warm. Warm is good. Warm means life.

The rest doesn’t matter right now. Tommy’s alive, he’s going to stay alive. And Buck will stay right here until he wakes up.

He presses a soft kiss to Tommy’s red knuckles. Wiping his eyes with the hand not joined to Tommy’s.

“I love you,” he whispers. He swears the heart rate on the monitor jumps slightly, like Tommy heard him. It doesn’t matter even if he didn’t. Buck will just tell him again, and again when he wakes up. read on ao3

[spinji]

I NEED TO YAP ABOUT THIS MOVIE MY GOD-

YOU'RE NEXT SPOILERS UNDER CUT

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaokayokay-

Can I just say I DO NOT recommend seeing this the same day as watching the new episode because I have had a DAY-

Unfortunately, the theater I went to didn't have the booklets or promotional cups but not a huge loss. It's the price I pay to have my boyfriend by my side; worth it. ♡

As with all my other MHA theater outings the screening was packed with delightful weirdos (dubbed, if you happen to care). One guy had an extensive set of custom MHA lego guys (very cool) and two very enthusiastic Toga cosplayers were so kind and kept me from feeling like a dork going out in public in a Deku wig. All the love to them, fr.

The movie itself though ohhhhh MY~

If I'm being honest this one didn't surpass World Heroes Mission or Heroes Rising for me, but also I don't know what you could do to beat out the movies that gave me such extreme brainrot it got me to be a part of this fandom in the first place. Personal rankings for the movies, best to "worst" is 3, 2, 4, 1.

Maybe it's because I had higher expectations instead of being given the best character in the franchise suddenly with no warning but I did still really REALLY love it. The highest point I can give it is easily the animation. Absolutely zero scenes in this movie feel like they fell to the standard of the anime. Everything was fluid and detailed and so fun to look at. And yes, of course it made every attack flashy as fuck. I was giddy every time Bakugou let out an explosion.

The premise did sound insane going in, and it is, but it's an anime side movie. Caring about the plot is a bonus, not a requirement. I guess my only real gripe is that it felt a little too fast? Very few scenes had time to breathe and unlike the other movies there wasn't really any slow establishing opening. If you come to MHA exclusively for the action, I think this one will be your new favorite.

Okay- I'm gonna just bullet point my highlights because I'm barely restrained enough to sit down and type.

First of all GIULIO!!!

Listen- I knew I would love this guy but oh my god babygirl~

He responds to literally everyone approaching him by pointing a gun at them. No comment this is just great

When Deku tells him to stop shooting at someone, he just pulls out a SECOND GUN and points it at him too

His motorcycle also has guns. Ngl I have expected his eye implant to also have a gun for a moment there.

He is SUCH an asshole to Deku in the first half and I love it. Their dialogue exchanges were so funny.

And in the second half he just,,,,cracks under the pressure so hard,, Man is having the WORST day of his life fr. It's really nice to know he and Anna are safe at UA rn. Poor things deserve it.

Anna and Giulio are really cute romantically, Giulio is definitely adult but he's going in the Deku harem anyway. You can't stop me, I am capable of worse.

Anna herself unfortunately doesn't get much time since she spends most of the movie mind controlled but she's harmlessly sweet and adorable. Anna they could never make me hate you.

I want to smear Dark Might across the side of a wall and given how much they overanimated his expressions, I believe this is the intended effect.

Am I the only one that hopes he sees the Mech Might livestream just to rub salt in the wound? Don't you dare let All Might's name fall from your mouth again, you bag of scum.

I really REALLY wanted Izuku to get pissed off and start naming off inconsistencies between how All Might and Dark Might look: "His eyes are SKY blue, not ocean blue, and while his broad features don't make it obvious, his chin was actually much slimmer, also you got the silver age colors wrong-!" alas... you know he was thinking it though-

Big tiddy mind control gf Deborah my beloved- she has pretty privileges for everything

Actually a lot of the lesser goons of the family were kind of dorky and odd. I loved the energy! Why was one of them literally a D&D nerd that put on a wizard robe OVER HIS SUIT. Most entertaining movie villian group for sure.

The personal dreams everyone had under the mind control? Kill me. Kill me right the fuck now!

Shoto literally just wants a happy childhood with his family??? Where Touya wants to play with him????? And Rei was still happy????? UUGAHWAAAAAAAA

Tenya and Tensei being heroes together STOP-

Shoji with the little girl he saaaaaaved,,,and he didn't have his face scars anymoooooore,,,

So glad they didn't show Ochako's because you know they would have just animated that what if pixel animation of her and Toga being childhood friends and I would have vomited in sorrow.

Absolutely infuriating they broke continuity to have Katsuki call Izuku "Deku" and not "De-Izuku". Never forget what they took from us.

"Beat it, cool side character!" is the best line in the movie. Katsuki does not forget what happened with Rody and he does NOT forgive.

Followed closely by "I'm falling down crotch-first!" And you wonder why I write the fics I do about you, Deku-

Deku being a legend as a jailbreaker hunter is so amazing?? Yes baby, they're so scared of you! You're doing amazing sweetie!

I might think of more but tldr: YOU'RE NEXT IS A REALLY FUN TIME AND YOU SHOULD WATCH IT!

[gojos-thot-patrol]

And with this, it all comes to an end...

Now Loading: Kinktober Season Finale

Synopsis: It was supposed to be a fun little joke, a gag you and your friends indulged at your annual Halloween Party. Of course it wasn't going to work, no way a "ritual" you found on WikiHow of all places was really going to summon an Incubus. But, if that was the case, then who was the almost angelic looking man standing in your room?

Kinks: Spectrophilia, Non-Con/Dub-Con, Mirror Sex, and Dacryphilia

You laughed at your friend's silly joke as you readjusted your witch hat and took a sip of your drink. Halloween night- the spookiest time of the year, and you were spending it with five of your closest friends. You couldn’t think of another place in the entire world you would rather be than right there on that couch, drinking suspiciously vibrant green cocktails and watching trashy B-grade horror flicks.

That was until the host's phone went off. Her excited squeal told her everything you needed to know. 

“Ew, Is that Grease?” You asked, earning you an eye roll from the hostess and a giggle from the rest of the group.

“Why do you insist on calling Toji that?” She asked as she typed away a response.

“Cause he looks greasy.” You reminded her. She scoffed at you and shook her head.

“You’re only saying that ‘cause you can’t get laid.” She rebuffed.

“You’ve resorted to personal attacks, this means I automatically win!” You celebrated, sticking your tongue out at her. 

“Wait, you still can’t get any?” One of your other friends asked, inserting themselves into the conversation, “Why not? You’re hot.” You just shrugged at their question.

“I haven’t found anyone worth my time.” you simply stated.

“She’s picky.” The host said. As she did, you saw a spark of an idea light up her eyes, and she more aggressively typed on her phone.

“Wait, weren’t you talking to that Zenin guy?” Another friend entered the ring, “What happened to him?” He asked.

“You mean Naoya? He dropped on the third date that he didn’t believe in the female orgasm. I wasn’t going to waste any more of my time with that.” You sighed, mostly out of pity for whatever woman he did trick into his bed, and sipped your cocktail.

“What if you fucked a demon?” The host asked, looking at you with frantically excited eyes.

“Congratulations! That’s officially the fourth weirdest sex question I’ve ever been asked.” You clapped for your friend.

“Only the fourth? What have you?- Not the point,” She shook her head and showed you the article she had pulled up on her phone. The Wikihow article, to be specific. You laughed as you read the title HOW TO SUMMON AN INCUBUS BOYFRIEND. 

“Well shit, it’s worth a try,” You joked as you handed back the phone.

“Are you serious?” She asked, grinning like a mad man, “Because I have the things to perform the ritual, and I can’t think of a better way to spend Halloween night than getting you some demonic dick.” She winked. You chuckled as you thought about the ridiculous nature of mixing the metaphysical with cyberspace. Eh, fuck it, what was the worst that could happen? You finished off your drink and nodded.

“Fuck it, let’s summon the devil!”

“Well, an incubus not the devil-” Your friend corrected, “But yeah!”

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

The room was dark. You had just finished anointing the ceremonial candles- which definitely wasn’t just a pretentious way to say  the six of you put essential oils on half used yankee candles. It was way more legit than that! You guys like…added intentions or whatever it was the article said to do. You all placed them on the reverse pentagram pattern on the ground, and you specifically lit them in a clockwise order, starting from the bottom) most point…Wait. Wait, no you definitely started from the upper right point. Oops?

Maybe you all shouldn’t have been doing this drunk. But, no one noticed! So you continued to spend more energy giving the bit far more commitment than it ever warranted. You moved to the hostess. “The scene is set Sister,” you fought giggles, “How shall we proceed?”

“Thank you my companion of darkness. I shall consult the sacred tomes.” She said pulling out her phone with a flourish and pulling back up the- and I can not stress this enough- WikiHow article, on how to summon a Sex. Demon. What a wild Halloween.

“It says we all need to do now is put the sacrifice in the center of the inverted star.” Your friend said. The room fell quiet for a second. As jokey as this had all been up until this point, the use of the word “sacrifice” had shifted the air to something much colder. More serious. You felt about a thousand sets of eyes on you, but you knew in reality it was only five sets. Five sets of burning, nervous eyes.

“Ugh, okay fine!” You groaned, dramatically throwing your head back to break the tension, “I’ll go get in the star!” You said with a playful smirk as you positioned yourself in the center of the pentagram. “Besides, who doesn’t want a Sexy demon boyfriend? I’ll gladly get sacrificed for that.” You joked.

“Excellent!” The hostess said with an excited clap of her hands. You watched as your friends went to their places, one for each point of the star. “Okay, I’m gonna send you guys the like, script I guess? So you guys know what we have to say.” She said as she sent the text to the group chat. You watched as everyone checked their phones.

“Is that…Latin?” one of your friends questioned.

“I think?” The hostess asked more than said.

“What does it mean?” A different friend inquired.

“I don’t know, demons come fuck me? How should I know what it means?” The hostess snapped.

“Shit- sorry I asked.” Your friend mumbled, and you felt kinda bad for them. 

“Can we get on with this? I’m getting tired.” You said. It wasn’t a lie. You had felt your energy slowly sleep out of you from the moment your friends took their spots on the star, and a nap was really starting to sound phenomenal about now.

“Right, sorry babes.” The hostess said sympathetically, reaching out her arms. All of the friends complied, reaching out with their entire wingspans but still only managing to touch fingertips. It was enough though, the pentagram was transformed into a pentacle, and suddenly, you felt woozy. 

“Gojo est optimus,” The all chanted in unison, low and serious. “Gojo tam terribilis est, vis eum tecum dormire.” Your ears started ringing, loud and hateful. “Colendum est Satoru Gojo!” As the last syllables fell from their lips, the flames of the used overpriced candles erupted into a brilliant indigo inferno with a molting cerulean core. The wall of fire surrounded you and warmed your body to the point of overheating. You stumbled to keep your balance. The air suddenly felt like thick oil, and your head felt like it was filled with cotton. 

As quickly as the flames exploded, they vanished, leaving you to hyperventilate in the darkness while your friends all tried to process what just happened. Suddenly, a laugh split through the air and your skull.

“That's crazy!” one of your friends laughed, “I didn’t know essential oils reacted to fire like that!” He said. Slowly, the rest of you all joined him in his laugh, small nervous giggles finding the will to become genuine. Yeah, that made sense. The oils must have had..something in them to make them do that. Yeah. 

You tried to ignore the feeling of someone grabbing your ass.

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

You didn’t stay at the party much longer after that. You told all of your friends you were tired, which, was true. You didn’t tell them that you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched though. Or that every once in a while you felt like you were being touched. A thumb rubbing your thigh, or a kiss ghosted over your neck. You kept that part to yourself. 

You knew you were probably just over thinking the whole ritual thing. The human brain was a powerful lump of electricity, and the placebo effect was undeniable. You probably just tricked yourself into feeling these things cause you fake summoned a fake demon. Yeah, that made sense.

As you walked into your apartment door, you felt it again. A firm hand grabbing the fat of your ass. In the safety of your own home, you gave into your initial reaction of swatting the invisible pervert away. “Quit it.” You growled at the wind.

You could have sworn you heard someone respond. “Tch.”

No, no you didn't hear that. You can’t be feeling phantom touches and be hearing things, you had to pick a lane for your crazy. You rolled your eyes at how silly you were being as you dragged yourself into the bathroom. All you wanted was a shower and to get to bed. Tonight had been surprisingly taxing. As you undressed, you couldn’t stop feeling overly self conscious of your body. As if a pair of eyes were burning into your very soul, seeing you both inside and out and leaving you with no secrets left. Like someone was looking inside your heart to see your desires, your hopes and dreams. You hurried into the tub.

The warm shower cascaded over your cold body, making your skin erupt in goosebumps. You sighed as the cleansing waters washed away your sins from the night, and finally put your mind at ease. For all of about two seconds.  Then your imagination started to wander. What chemical was in those essential oils to make them turn such a deep blue? Was such a color even possible for fire? It was so dark. You closed your eyes as you followed your train of thought. What did all that Latin mean? And how did your friends, who had never spoken the language a day in their life mind you, nail the pronunciation and reading of it on the first try? Without so much as a practice read or example no less. 

"You think so much. It's kinda cute." That voice was definitely in your mind- but it wasn't your own. Your eyes suddenly shot open as you jerked your head around the bathroom, trying to see who could have said that- despite knowing you would find no one. Steam was all that greeted you. Jesus fuck, what was in those drinks to be making you feel this way? You quickly finished your shower and got out. 

You felt it again before you could grab your towel. Two hands, playing with your chest. You almost screamed, frustration mounting in yourself. Then you caught a glimpse of the mirror. Temporarily, you didn’t feel the hands on you anymore. You didn’t feel anything as your brain tried to process the impossibility of what it was seeing. And then you felt everything.

Visible through the slight fog in the mirror, and only the mirror, were two hands- large and pale, long nails (claws?) tipped in pink and black- groping your breasts. You watched in awe and horror as the two hands kneaded the flesh of your chest, rolling their (it's?) thumbs over your hardening nipples. You watched as one of the disembodied appendages left your breast and moved lower. Moved to touch you in a place you hadn't been touched yet tonight. The hand vanished from the view of the glass, and seconds later you felt a spark of pleasure as (what you assumed to be) a finger flicked your clit.

Suddenly, your brain worked again, and you screamed as you tumbled away from the mirror, nearly tumbling over and back into the bathtub in your panic. You caught yourself just in time though, breathing heavy as you leaned against the wall of your shower. You heard that fucking voice again, this time it had the audacity to laugh.

"Such a tease." It mused. You needed to get out of here. You screamed as you ran out of the bathroom, and down the short hall to your bedroom. You crashed into the room, unsure why you ran here other than the fact that you always felt safe in this space. You tried to calm yourself but found it impossible. You went to sit on your bed, but- you stopped in your tracks as you caught a glimpse of the full length mirror facing your mattress. You blinked as you stared at it, your confusion being replaced only by more bodily feelings as you watched the impossible scene unfold in the glass.

You watched as a figure pushed his hips into yours, fucking you into your mattress. Your fucked out face contorting in pleasure as you moaned out helplessly, eyes glazing over in a daze. The figure wrapped his large hand around your throat, and you couldn’t help but notice the way the pink and black claws dug into your skin. 

And you felt all of it. You could feel the shadow on top of you, feel its hand tighten around your throat. And you felt him in between your legs, heavy and thick, dragging out of your heat at an agonizing pace. You felt every deliberate thrust into the sweet spot that laid inside you, making you feel delirious with pleasure. Mirror you moaned a name you didn’t quite catch and clawed the shadows biceps. You felt his skin under your nails as another wave of arousal overtook you.

Your knees felt weak with desire and you found it suddenly hard to stand. You made eye contact with yourself in the glass, and stumbled backwards as your knees suddenly gave out. You didn’t hit the ground, though, a part of you wished you did. Instead, you landed against a wall of muscle. Strong arms encircled you, and you felt a low chuckle reverberate from the chest you were braced against.

“You’re clumsy, aren’t you Honey?” Yep, that was definitely the voice you heard in the bathroom. You scrambled away from the arms in a sudden burst of energy, and spun around to finally get a good look at the entity that had been haunting you all night. 

He was tall, 7 feet at least, with ghost white hair and glowing- unnaturally vibrant- sapphire eyes. He was a pale man, clad in leather pants and corset adorned with pink chains. Giant bat wings framed him, and two black devil tails- tipped with sharp pink hearts- flicked excitedly behind him. He flashed a smirk, showing off the long fangs he hid behind perfectly pink lips.

“Like what you feel, Sweetheart?” He asked, musical voice dripping with smug condescension. 

“Who are you?” You asked as you tried to steady your heart. He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Shouldn’t you know? You called out to me.” He reminded you gently. Oh fuck. 

“You’re the fucking WikiHow demon?!” You scoffed with a humorless laugh, “Are you fucking kidding me?! What self respecting demon puts their summoning ritual on fucking WikiHow?!?!” You lashed out in frustration, to hide from the fear. You didn’t sell your soul to this…being, did you? He chuckled at your sudden outburst, as if he was watching a cat try and escape a laundry basket it trapped itself in.

“What self respecting human performs a ritual found on WikiHow?” He threw that right back at you.

“That can’t be working out well for you.” it wasn’t quite what you meant to say. Your body felt like it was on fire with desire right now, and more than anything you wanted to rip him out of those leather pants. You’d be forgiven for not being the most articulate person right now. You got your point across, that’s what mattered. 

“Why can’t it be?” He asked with a tilt of his head, “It’s worked out great for me so far. I get hundreds of thousands of curious summoners, and I get to respond to the ones I find interesting. Honestly, I think it was pretty genius.” He grinned. It was true. He ate way more now than he ever did when his summoning rituals were locked behind ancient, dusty tomes, long since forgotten to time. You huffed at him and shook your head.

“I still don’t know your name.” Why did that matter to you so much? Maybe it was because you wanted to know the name of the demon that had damned you. Maybe you wanted to know what name you’d be screaming later. Who knows. He smiled wide and with a flourish bowed before you, wings spreading out behind him and tails swirling in front of him.

“Satoru Gojo,” He said, “At your service.” With that, he straightened back up.

“Satoru Gojo, huh?” You scoffed, Trying to focus on your rage to distract yourself from the pleasure pooling inside of you. “So you’re the pervert that’s been groping me all night?”

“Strong way to put it, but yes.” He shrugged, nonchalant grin never leaving his face, “Who could blame me? Have you seen yourself? I couldn’t keep my hands off you even if I wanted to.” you ignored him.

“You’re a fucking creep!” You accused, “I didn’t consent to-”

“Oh you didn’t?” He cut you off with a scoff. “Oh, my mistake. See, I was under the impression that you had willingly entered the star to be sacrificed into my power, and willingly- if not even enthusiastically- participated in the ritual to bind yourself to me.” 

Oh yeah. You did do that, huh? Your face said everything, and his smirk (somehow) got even more smug. “That’s what I thought. You see Sweets, in my world, you’ve already consented to everything I have planned for you.” He walked past you to sit on your bed, and you turned to not take your eyes off him. 

“All of this,” he gestured widely with his hands, “Is really just in respect to your human culture. That, and everything tastes better when it’s given willingly.” he laughed. 

"And what if I don't give it willingly?" You asked, crossing your arms.

"You will." He said that so matter-of-factly that it made your stomach burn. He said it as if he was telling you the time or reading off instructions. As if it was just an objective, unavoidable, fact. 

"And what makes you so sure of that Lover Boy?" You scoffed, trying to hide the fact you were unnerved. 

"Because I can smell your arousal from here,” He smiled, flashing those dangerous fangs again, “and you’ve been rubbing your delicious thighs together this entire conversation, and you refuse to look me in the eye cause you know the moment you do, all of this” he gestured at you with a single hand, “edgy mean girl attitude will vanish.” he said as he crossed his legs and held his knee with both hands. “You want me. You want me so bad, you’re struggling to think of anything else. It’s only a matter of time until you give into that carnal desire.”

You hated how accurately he read you. You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to guard your body from his invasive gaze. You hated the fact that you could feel your hips buck against his illusions. And that as good as they felt, they just weren’t enough. Your cunt was clenching around nothing and your skin burned for his touch. You could feel your resolve dissolving, fear giving way to lust.

“Will it hurt?”

“Not unless you want it to.”

“I’m not talking about sex dipshit,” You groaned, “I’m talking about losing up my soul.”  For the first time this entire encounter, he looked confused.

“I-I’m sorry, what?” He asked.

“My soul,” You said, feeling his confusion rub off on you, “You’re an incubus, right? Isn’t that like…your thing?” 

“No?” His confusion slowly transformed into chuckling as it finally dawned on him what the hold up was. “Oh sugar, is that why you’re fighting this so hard? You think I want your soul? Baby, you gotta stop watching so many movies. Mortal souls are absolutely worthless. Mortal pleasure on the other hand, now. That’s where the money lies.”  You weren’t sure if that thought should have comforted you- or scared you more. 

But before you could get too lost in your head, he uncrossed his legs and leaned back on the bed. His tight pants left next to nothing to the imagination, and you bit your lower lip so hard you were sure it bled. 

"Come here Sweets." He said, opening his arms out to you. Your body acted on its own accord, walking over to him without any say from you. Before you knew it, you were straddling his lap. He placed his hands on your side, rubbing your hips and smiling at the way they bucked against him. "Look at you. Frustrated to tears and fighting, what, six months of tension? Don't do that to yourself Sugar. I can help you. You just have to let me."

You looked down. Some primal part of your brain knew this was a bad idea. This man(?) Was a predator who made no attempt to hide that fact about himself. You knew you should run. 

And yet that same primal part of your brain wanted him all the more for that exact reason. "Let me take care of you." Gojo requested, running his hand up your bare back to tangle his fingers in the hair at the base of your neck. You felt yourself break.

"Okay…" you finally said, "Help me." He didn't need to be told twice. In a blink his lips were on yours, the taste of cherry and peaches invading your senses. His tongue slid past your teeth to tangle with yours, and for the first time you got a sense of just how long the muscle really was. The hand tangled in your hair gave a sharp tug, making you moan against his mouth. You could feel the already impressive tent in his pants get bigger.

Nervousness mixed with excitement as he flipped you over, pressing your back into your soft mattress. His head moved to kiss dark bruises into your neck, making sure to let his fangs nip the thin skin there. A reminder of what you were dealing with. He kissed down your body, finally landing at the place you needed him the most. He threw your leg over his shoulder, and pressed his face against your sticky cunt.

You let out a truly embarrassing moan as you were finally graced with the relief your body had been begging for. You whined as you felt him pressed his unnaturally long tongue into your weeping cunt, reaching places you didn’t know possible and stretching you in a deliciously devious way. He licked at your g-spot, sending shock waves of pleasure straight to your core and throughout the rest of your body. 

His expert fingers worked at your clit as he lapped as your cunt. Your body reacted to him in ways it had never reacted before, overly sensitive and needy. Your hands reached down to tangle into his moon-pale hair, pulling on the soft tresses found there. Pulling him even closer and deeper into you. His long, thick tongue pushed in and out of your weeping cunt, and if you felt this fucked out from just his tongue, you were almost scared to think about what his cock would feel like. You saw his wings flutter in delight as you pulled at his hair again, and the coil inside of you got tighter.

Pleasure pulsed through your body, reaching every part of you and making your back arch off of the bed. You could feel your body buzzing with anticipation as your climax approached at breakneck speeds. You had felt nothing like this before, nothing had made you feel so euphoric. No boyfriend had ever even come close, and no toy could ever compare. Your head was exploding with heavy desire as your climax overtook you, shattering your world and wrecking your body with tremors. 

You watched as he rose up from your legs, his heavy lidded eyes clouded with lust, a satisfied, lopsided grin on his face. "You taste even sweeter than I imagined." He complimented. 

"Thanks, I eat a lot of pineapple." You muttered, still coming down from your earth shattering high, still trying to regain your bearings. He chuckled softly, leaning over you. Your face turned red as you realized your slick was still glistening in his lips and chin in the moonlight. 

"I can tell." He winked, "Can you?" Before you could properly process his words, his hands were on the side of your face and pulling you into another heated kiss. You tasted yourself on his lips, and felt his nails press red crescents into the side of your head. He was right, there was a sweetness there, and you felt a sense of pride swell inside you as you realized that.

Your hands found the back of his head, tangling into his hair and pulling him even further into the kiss. Your recuperation made him feral, and his hands went from the side of your face to your hips, grabbing you in a bruising grip and pulling your body closer to him. His touch set a fire inside of you, making your heart work over time as your hands clumsily tried to pull him closer. You found the joint connecting his wings to his back and grabbed into them for dear life, sending a shudder through his entire body. He looked at you with dark, blown out eyes. 

“I’m going to fucking devour you.” He growled lowly at you. It sent a lighting bolt straight to your cunt. He pulled away, revealing that the leather corset and pants were finally gone. You felt your throat dry as you took in the sight of him. His body seemed to glow softly in the moonlight, lean and beautiful, his wings behind his frame making him look particularly ethereal. Your eyes trailed down and you choked back a moan.

You would never say this out loud, or about any mortal man for that matter, but…that mother fucker had a pretty cock. Long, with prominent veins and a baby pink tip. It stood proud against his stomach, already dripping with need, and all for you. 

“You look like an angel…” You whispered without even thinking. He chuckled, showing off his fangs to remind you that looks could be deceiving. 

“Is that what you want me to be?” He asked with a hum, grabbing your beautiful hips and positioning them against his, “I can be that for you. I can have you screaming out for god.” He shoved himself into you in one unforgiving go, sending a shock through your body as you moaned expletives, trying to adjust to the sudden intruder. “I can’t promise he’ll hear you though.” Gojo chuckled, “You’d be better off screaming for me.”

You moaned his name softly as you gripped onto his biceps, a scene that felt very familiar to you for some reason. He dragged himself out before pushing back in, perfectly gracing you G-spot with expert precision. He moaned as he did, trying to keep from losing control and fucking you like an animal. Your cunt was warm, and so welcoming. Pulling him in deeper and begging him for more. And who was he to deny you what you so desperately and clearly needed? 

You felt his tails wrap around your knees and spread you wider for him, giving him more room to work. He adjusted your position under him, letting him get deeper inside of you than any man had ever been before. He filled you to the brim, overflowing your senses with euphoria as he made sure you felt every inch of him pounding into you.

“Fuck, ‘Toru!” You moaned as he overtook you. Every thrust sent a new wave of electrical fire through your body, leaving you completely at his mercy as your second high approached. The scene was sinful, even for Satoru. The soft nickname made his heart ache (which, weird not gonna unpack that) and the scene before him made his dick swell. 

Your hair was messy from all of the pulling, and your eyes were fucked out and foggy. Your kiss swollen lips were red and parted, panting his name so beautifully. Your chest bounced with every push of his hips, and you took him so perfectly, it was like you were made to be his cock-sleeve. It was a scene he didn’t want to share with anybody else.

He leaned down closer to you, using his wings to shield your sin from the rest of the world. For the first time in his existence, he felt possessive. He didn’t want anyone else to see you like this, so pretty and needy. It was a sight only for him. The close intimacy overwhelmed you as his hand came to wrap around your throat, applying just enough pressure to break you. 

Your second climax of the night hit you like a hurricane, a wall of ecstasy crashing into you and sweeping you up in the whirlwind of mind numbing pleasure. You felt like you were on top of the world as it coursed through you in pulsating waves, his refusal to slow down for even a second putting even more power behind them.

You didn’t even realize you were crying until you felt his tongue lick up your cheek, collecting the salty tears. “Look at my little cry baby,” He teased, “tearing up while falling apart around my cock. Do you even know what you’re fucking doing to me?” He growled as he dug his fangs into your neck hard enough to draw blood. 

You let out a broken sob as his teeth dug into your skin, the pain mixing with the pleasure and making you clench around him. Your hands found where his wings attached to his back again, and grabbed onto them for dear life as you tried to ride out your intense high. The feeling of your nails in his wings sent him over the edge. He moaned your name pathetically as his tip kissed your cervix and he came deep inside of you. You felt the warmth of his climax mellow out and flow through you as he rode you through both of your highs, only stopping when both of your bodies forced you too. 

He was breathing hard when he finally pulled out, collapsing on your bed next to you. He took a second to catch his breath, before pulling you into his arms and wrapping his wings around the both of you- not bothering with a blanket. You felt warm and safe inside of his wings, as if none of your problems or the evils of the real world could get to you as long as you were here. 

“So…” You finally asked, breaking the silence, “What happens now?” 

“What do you mean?” He asked, gingerly licking away the blood that trickled down your neck. 

“Do I die? Do you leave? What comes next?” You asked, confused as to how to further explain. Your confusion turned into frustration as he laughed.

“Do I leave?” He chuckled, “Honey, did you not read the article? You summoned an incubus boyfriend. Good luck getting rid of me.”

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・ Taglist ・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

thank you lovlies, for supporting my work! @sk8ttles, @blkkizzat,@littyasatittyyy,@ketchupsush1@my-names-angel-but-im-not-one, @ryomens-vixen, @yihona-san06 , @risuola, @bontensbabygirl, @spiderlilytengu and @aureliaviolet3

Thank you so much for all the support lovelies, and for continuing to read my work! You've all been wonderful, and I hope you all have a spooktacular Halloween!

and if you wanna read all of the Kinktober fics, you can find them all: Right Here!

[waves-against-a-cliff]

Wanna Try? - Gaz x Reader

Thinking about Gaz in the worst way possible

Thanks to @shotmrmiller for indulging in the brain worms with me.

Content Warnings - DUB-CON. I cannot stress this enough, this is dub-con, pretty much bordering on noncon. Anal, PiV, throat fucking, weed usage, Gaz is maybe kinda lacing the weed. Photos and videos being taken and sent to others without consent!

I've never been high before so; inaccuracies!!

You are responsible for your own media consumption. Don't read this if you KNOW you won't like it.

You had been curious about getting high. You'd never done it before but the way other people talked about, well you were curious. So you brought up with your boyfriend Kyle, asking him about it. He had been open about his personal usage for weed, helps clear his head after coming back from deployment and with the aches in his joints.

So of course he was willing to let you experience the high. He rolled up a blunt and handed it to you, demonstrating the best he could on how to handle the smoke. You coughed and wheezed the first few times but the fuzziness set in almost immediately. "Totally normal love. It's your first time after all."

Your movements are sluggish, it feels like your brain is a static TV. Your tongue feels swollen and heavy, too thick in your mouth. Your words slur like you're drunk and you can vaguely feel Gaz undoing the buttons of your trousers.

"What're doing?" You slur, trying to focus your eyes but find it too difficult so you close them. Some part of your brain acknowledges what he says, even if it's drowned out by the static. He doesn't sound like you do, do you even recall if he had more than one puff?

"Taking care of you. Don't worry."

Vaguely you wonder what can you do? You must've said it aloud because he murmurs something about taking it. Gaz absolutely enjoys seeing how oversensitive you are. Every other sense is dulled down but the way he works your already slick hole open for him. You're overly aware when his hot tongue swipes at your clit but your mouth feels like cotton you can barely moan.

The world spins and you jolt when you feel something push into you. Your nerves are raw, every sensation drawn out and at least tripled. It stings, it burns.

"Kyle," you whine and you feel him slip something sweet into your mouth.

"Chew and swallow dove." He commands and you do as he says, mind numb to the glint in his eyes.

"You can't." You slur.

"You can and will take it."

You wake up sore, it kind of hurts to sit and your memory is fuzzy. You were sure just smoking weed wasn't supposed to give you such fuzzy memories. But Gaz tells you it's normal, it was your first time getting high, what do you know? You suppose that's true and it did feel nice to get out of your head for a little while.

He's pushing you to do another session sometime that week. "You enjoyed it yeah? Let's do another then love."

Convinces you that the reason your throat hurts is because you aren't used to the weed yet. Still, something within your gut is ringing the alarm. That weed wouldn't result in your ass hurting or how sticky your panties are after sobering up.

It's a few weeks later, and several smoke sessions, that you need to use his phone since yours was dead. He handed it to you without thinking and pressed a quick kiss to your lips saying he's heading down to the store to grab a few things for dinner. You can't help but think about how doting he is, how wonderful he's been these last weeks.

It's curiosity that has you checking his gallery app. And maybe a want to find a cute picture he took of himself to use as a new lock screen. Your breathing stops and your stomach rolls when you see his latest videos and photos. Of course there's the usual selfies he takes with that radiate smile but you see pictures of yourself.

Pictures of you looking up into the camera, your lips stretched around his cock and spit dripping down your chin. Eyes glassy with tears and red from the weed. You tap on the most recent video, taken the same day you smoked with him. His hand is in your hair, soft grunts coming from his lips as he pistons his hips against your face. Soft gags coming from you that turn more violent the harder he fucks your throat.

"that's it's dove." He groans and his fist tightens in your hair. You vaguely realize he's coming down your throat.

You slide to the next video. Your ass is in full view of the camera, slapped red and raw. Your back arched as he fucks his cock into your ass. He spreads the cheeks with one hand so he can video it better. Your moaning and mewling in the background that gets louder the harder he fucks you.

"you love this don't you?" You weakly nod your head in response, "love it when your boyfriend uses you while you're high? What a slag." His hand comes down harshly on your ass that results in a yelp from you. You close out of the video, close out of the app and set the phone down.

Just be grateful you didn't look into his messages where he's been sending these pictures and videos to the rest of the task force.

[theredcuyo]

Hmm, so today i worked with a bit of horror and this came to me

What if we make the Batman into a cryptid but the cooler kind, the leyend to scare young kids type

Before you write or send a comment, i'm mexican, born and raised, still live there. Thank You.

This came from me thinking about La llorona, a leyend (scary one) here in México and some other parts of latam it seems(?) and it's in short, about a woman whose kids die and she dies from sadness over it, with her eyes drying up from so much crying, becoming a spirit that haunts the world while calling for her children in desperate screams

The reason behind the kids' death changes depending on who you ask, either she killed them or it was an accident, but they die by drowing in all versions, and, as a result of the above, any kid she comes across gets taken away because she mistakes them for her own, they end up dying by her hands too tho (because she thinks they're hers and drowns them, or because she realizes they aren't)

She's also a single mother (the story goes back to the 1500 btw)

And I think Bruce fits this. So. Fucking. Well.

Like, Jason and Dick die, and he becomes this, and then Tim was trying to help him pass from the world but he couldn't and instead became his child too, and the rest followed along, by accident, by choice or not

Can he be a hero here? I don't think so, but, maybe he does care for the children somehow, the ones that he realizes aren't his, that they have parents to go to are the ones he protects

He cares for the people, who are not at fault for his loss, so he protects the city he also haunts

He cares for the nice old man who's never been afraid of him, who gives him a sad smile and who he feels like he knows but all the memories of his life are buried down and forgotten behind his children dying

He might not even want the children he takes to die, it's like the pit rage in canon, it takes over him and they world gets too blurry to think right

And he cares for those kids, he really does, it's not their fault, but there's one he can never remember the name of (Dick) no matter how many times he repeats it

Dick forgave his dad (whatever the reason for their deaths might be) and wanders around him in a nice way, doing his best so all of them can finally pass away

Jason hasn't. He haunts Bruce, most of the episodes where he snatches more kids away are Jason's fault, as he appears and dissapears in front of him, making him believe any kid is his boy, Jason doesn't notice and actually tries to protect other kids.

Steph's 'your not my dad!' call hits harder in this au-

Cass was wandering around town alone, she didn't stand a chance because she couldn't even scream for help. She's like a second shadow to Bruce, always near, always watching, and some who have scaped them swear her eyes never stop looking at you. She might be the only kid who's not mad at him for taking her away

Duke is similar enough, he didn't like the dark, but when there's no other choice is the worst thing that happens.

Damian's tale as a child of his that Bruce originally thought to have died gets worse when he gets taken, reunited but only by death, one that is his dad's fault.

One where Bruce got another one of his kids killed.

||||

Hoenstly, i'd like to work on this au? If that's like fine?

I'll try to make some designs and maybe like some draws, if i get to, a series of one-shots

Oh, and if you non-latam people want to know more about la llorona, well, there's a kids animated movie :D is called "La leyenda de la llorona" pretty sure you can find it with subtitles (always better than dub tbh) it's part of a saga on mexican leyends too, can watch the others if it calls your attention, they're fun

[socra-time]

Naruto Episode Comments, Ep. 1-20

(Context: I know a lot of the character’s names and some of the big plot points, but I’m going in blind otherwise)

Ep 1:

-Naruto is kinda annoying but also he’s just a lil gremlin and I can respect that

-I kinda love Iruka. Also he’s hot.

-”Clone jutsu? That’s my worst jutsu!” says Naruto, known for his Shadow Clone jutsu

-there’s just something so charming about the old anime style (but also some of the expressions are so goofy)

-HOLY SHIT IRUKA IS A REAL ONE

-I don’t trust the Hokage. I don’t really have a concrete reason for this yet, but his vibes are off

-oooh Irukaaaaa you’re so sexy for not being an asshole to the traumatized child

-oh I guess Shadow Clone jutsu is different from regular clones so disregard my earlier comment

-honestly this was a better first episode than I was expecting. I’m sold!

Ep 2:

-Naruto continues to be a lil gremlin

-Naruto pls for the love of god stop using your stupid ass “sexy jutsu”

-the Hokage really has had enough of these little kids and honestly I can’t even blame him

-I love the voice of Konohamaru’s trainer (I’m watching dub btw), it’s so pompous

-I love the ninja sandals. I want a pair.

-I like that Naruto’s voice actually sounds childish. It’s a tad bit grating sometimes but I think I’ll get used to it quickly

-STOP IT WITH THE SEXY JUTSU

-STOPPPPPP

-anyways #KonohamaruForHokage

Ep 3:

-again, the ninja sandals are so fucking drippy

-Ino wtf is up with your outfit. Why is half of it bandages

-the amount of sheer passive-aggressiveness in these 12 year old girls-

-Naruto has a crush on Sakura at first???? I didn’t know that lol

-Sasuke does not give a singular shit about anything other than his brooding and tbh I didn’t expect anything less

-Sakura’s little inner monologue is so feral lmao

-I don’t like Sasuke’s voice so far. It’s monotone, but not in an edgy way, just in a kinda dull way? Also he doesn’t really sound like a kid

-no hate to Shikamaru but his ponytail looks painful. My scalp hurts just looking at it

-oh my god not Sakura ragging on Naruto for being an orphan-

-lmao the amount of fucking drama with this team of kids is crazy

-why are the Hokage and Kakashi just casually breaking into Naruto’s home to look around

-rip Naruto’s bowels

Ep 4:

-I was not expecting Kakashi to sound like that but I’m kinda here for it actually

-oh I can already tell I’m gonna hate how the female characters are written in this show. Sakura honey I’m so sorry

-I know Sasuke’s got trauma or whatever but god he’s so fucking edgy. “I hate most things and I don’t like anything” bitch just say your favorite food or something

-oh my god Naruto is so tiny compared to Kakashi

-ok I already see why people love Kakashi so much

Ep 5:

-Kakashi is raining hell down on these children and I’m so here for it

-Kakashi is so COOL

-fucking “HEADHUNTER JUTSU” is the most metal name for a jutsu

-“you think like little kids” says Kakashi to the 12 year olds

-Kakashi really didn’t need to give his “you failed” monologue while pinning Sasuke to the ground. Bro was just doing it to assert dominance lmao

-I know that Sasuke’s reasoning for sharing is logical and not because he cares about Naruto, but I like that he offers his food to Naruto first

-aw the squad is starting to squad just a teeny tiny bit

Ep 6:

-booooo Naruto is a cat hater :(

-I love that Naruto is shorter than Sakura

-I like that we get some worldbuilding early on (also I’m a sucker for a good map so the scene explaining the different regions was cool)

-okay Sasuke is a badass

-Kakashi is also a badass but I already knew that

-I love how chill Kakashi is about literally everything

Ep 7:

-Kakashi is so over the bridge builder guy’s bullshit

-I do wish there was more of a sense of scale regarding how far apart the different locations are, since I have no idea how far away from Konoha the Land of Waves actually is

-okay I was NOT expecting Zabuza to fucking THROW HIS GIANT CLOUD STRIFE SWORD LIKE A BOOMERANG???

-Zabuza 🤝 Kakashi

not wearing their headbands correctly

-I like Zabuza’s voice

-the sharingan doesn’t make that much sense to me in terms of how it works but I’ll just chalk it up to anime logic

EP 8:

-oh the Water Prison jutsu is kinda terrifying to think about

-I can’t get over Zabuza’s fuckin armwarmer thingies

-ah yes gotta love the choppy old anime fight animation

-between Kakashi and Zabuza, Sasuke really cannot get a break from being pinned to the ground

-the demon wind shuriken is so sick-looking

-okay good on Naruto and Sasuke for working together but couldn’t they have given Sakura something to do

Ep 9:

-binging this makes the flashbacks at the beginning of episodes very annoying

-oh Kakashi is fucking PISSED

-shoutout to whoever animated all the hand signs for the jutsus holy shit

-yeah Kakashi would be so annoying to fight ngl

-Sakura is constantly calling Naruto out on his bullshit and that’s the kind of hater behavior I’m here for

-the soundtrack is hitting different this episode

-wow Naruto really saw another kid kill a man and got immediate imposter syndrome lmao

Ep 10:

-I like Haku’s painted nails

-aw Kakashi is actually a really encouraging teacher

-how is Naruto so bad with chakra control and yet was able to master Shadow Clone jutsu????

-Kakashi casually defying gravity to walk up a tree with his crutches was actually kinda hilarious to me for some reason

-I’m still not sold on Sasuke’s voice. There are moments when it’s fine but otherwise it’s just so stiff

-YAY FOR SAKURA GETTING A WIN OVER THE BOYS

-aw Naruto encouraging Sakura was cute (even though he was salty about her beating him)

-I like the difference that’s set up between having a lot of chakra (like Naruto) versus good chakra control (like Sakura)- hopefully this means people are going to go about how they train and fight differently

-Naruto asking Sakura for advice and asking her not to tell Sasuke anything was actually kinda endearing lol

Ep 11:

-dumb question maybe but if Gato is so against the bridge being built and he has the resources to hire a bunch of goons, why doesn’t he just bomb the bridge or something

-ah yes Sakura discovers poverty

-Sasuke is slowly growing on me. He’s very awkward

-Sakura I’m so sorry you have to deal with those two idiots as teammates

-holy fuck Inari’s backstory with Kaiza was darker than I thought it would be

-also rip Kaiza you were a real one

Ep 12:

-lmao not Naruto thinking Haku is prettier than Sakura fjfhshhajasisa-

-aw Sasuke helping Naruto walk home after training was nice, there’s definitely very slight development happening in their relationship as rivals

-Kakashi’s talk with Inari was a really nice moment

Ep 13:

-I like the way Haku talks. It’s very impassive and mysterious

-I’m always a fan of when the MC inspires literally everyone around them and Naruto is no exception

-Haku’s painted nails continue to slay (also I realized his toenails are painted too)

-the needles Haku fights with are really cool-looking but also seem really impractical

-YEAHHHHH NARUTO TIME

-aw Kakashi is proud of his kids

-goddamn Haku is so cool

Ep 14:

-I’m only thinking about this now but did Naruto never wonder why he had a big seal on his stomach

-literally half this episode was recap which was kinda annoying

-Naruto I love you but you’re so stupid

Ep 15:

-I really wish they gave Sakura more to do in this fight. I get that Kakashi’s the only one who can take Zabuza and that we need to see Naruto and Sasuke fighting together, but Sakura is kinda just standing there the whole time

-Haku needs to go to therapy ASAP

-I’m still confused about how Kakashi’s sharingan works tbh

Ep 16:

-aw yeah baby Sasuke sharingan time

-aw yeahhhh Sasuke saving Naruto

-god fucking dammit I think Sasuke is my favorite Team 7 member and I hate that for me

-oh boy Naruto is about to go apeshit

-also there is no way in hell anyone watching this actually believed Sasuke died

Ep 17:

-geez the animation quality really went up this episode

-yeah Haku’s backstory is just as tragic as I thought it would be but also Jesus Christ his relationship with Zabuza is so fucked up

-I’m very curious as to why Kakashi has the sharingan if it’s a bloodline trait of the Uchiha clan (and also why he only has it in one eye)

-Kakashi summoning fucking dogs was so random but also hell yeah doggies

-andddd Kakashi’s a lightningbender? I thought the sharingan was his main thing but apparently not

-Haku PLEASE go to therapy

Ep 18:

-this show’s soundtrack has actually been so good so far

-so like was Naruto actually gonna kill Haku before Haku stopped him

-oh FUCK rip Haku (also first real-time death of the series!)

-Kakashi closing Haku’s eyes and saving his body was nice, you can tell that he feels bad about him dying even though he was on Zabuza’s side

-also they didn’t hold back on the blood, goddamn

-I like that the bridge builder seems to have a bit of a soft spot for Sakura since she’s been with him the most

Ep 19:

-Gato is literally so fucking disgusting I need him dead ASAP

-Kakashi wrangling Naruto back from attacking Gato was kinda funny

-ah yes the big Shonen Protagonist Speech™ from Naruto

-Zabuza’s last hurrah was fucking epic, I really like how his and Haku’s story ended (also the line “where he’s going, I cannot follow” about Zabuza joining Haku in the afterlife was metal). I like that Zabuza got a last moment of humanization

-aw Naruto is such a wholesome, determined lil guy

-oh Naruto is gonna be so insufferable when he finds out the bridge is named after him

Ep 20:

-HELL YEAH CHUNIN EXAM TIMEEEE IM SO EXCITED

-wow Naruto is really out here fantasizing about being Sasuke’s knight in shining armor

-Sasuke is a cocky little shit but also he’s technically right about Naruto and Sakura being “worse” than him

-so far Sakura’s biggest fight has been her beating up fuckin Konohamaru

-SAND SIBLINGS SPOTTED!!!

-I don’t like Temari’s voice

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Dark!Bucky B. NSFW A-Z

This is a Yandere oneshot! It is DARK! That’s the entire point so if you don’t like that then don’t read it.

There are some mentions of abuse, kidnapping and Dub/Non-Con!

Dead Dove: Do Not Eat!

A stands for AFFECTION: how would they show affection?

•Bucky would bring you all kinds of gifts when he comes home from work

•Flowers, Chocolates, cute stuffed animals, soft warm pajamas to repel the cold mountain air and a plethora of blankets

•He's also a very touchy person whether you like it or not, his favorite thing is to snuggle up with you in a nest of the blankets you have

B stands for BLOODY: how bloody are they willing to get for their object of obsession?

•As bloody as he needs to get

•You don't leave his cabin ever but the one time that a ranger came upon you outside the cabin Bucky guided you inside before getting rid of him and ensuring no one would ever know about you again

C stands for CRUELTY: would they ever hurt their object of obsession?

•Bucky works hard at training you to be what he wants in a wife and when you fight him he can get very upset, he will more often than not take you over his knee and spank you until you're ass is bloody or on occasion lock you out of the cabin in the rain or snow

D stands for DARLING: would they cross their object of obsession's limits?

•Bucky will push you as far as he needs to to achieve his desired effect

•He doesn't want to hurt you but he won't let you refuse him or pull away and if he needs to fuck you back into submission he absolutely will

E stands for EXPOSED: how much do they expose their own feelings to their object of obsession?

•After he locks you in he will pour out his heart and soul, you will know exactly how much he loves you

•He doesn't hesitate to tell you what he wants and needs from you as well as what he can give to you

F stands for FIGHT: how would they react to their object of obsession fighting back?

•He won't take it well

•Bucky needs you to love him too, he's put so much work into making his cabin perfect over the years for his future wife so you can be alone together, you not showing him your appreciation would push him a bit too far

•He will spank you but if that doesn't work he will lock you out in the rain

•His last resort is sedating you. He will do this when you get too worked up and he needs you to calm down but it also allows him to have to help you do everything because you're so doped up

G stands for GAME: do they think this is just a game?

•In no way is this a game to James Barnes

•You are his everything and after all he has had to suffer in his life, he deserves you and you deserve to be cared for. He doesn't play games when it comes to his perfect little wife unless of course you're feeling playful and you want him to chase you. That's his favorite game because he always wins and his prize is getting to fuck you in the middle of the woods

H stands for HELL: what would be their object of obsession's worst experience with them?

•Your worst experience was probably your third night with him when you tried to get away the first time. It was pouring rain and you didn't yet know how far you were from civilization

•Bucky caught you trying to open the locks on the door and decided if you want to be outside then you will. He tightened and locked a collar around your neck with a magnetic strip that you could never remove without him and chained you to a tree outside

•You we're out there for what felt like hours to you in the freezing cold rain but what was probably only an hour all together. Your screaming for him died down as you began to lose your strength and he came to get you a few moments later, frozen to the bone and unable to talk. He changed you after getting you warmed up in a shower so you didn't get hypothermia and he held you for the rest of the night, his ungodly hot body thanks to the serum being a blessing for the both of you as he warmed you up so well and he finally got you to snuggle into him all night long

I stands for IDEAL: what are their plans for their object of obsession?

•He plans to make you his housewife

•James Barnes had wanted a normal life before being drafted, he was a ladies man but he wanted to find a cute dame and settle down, give her a good life and provide for his family while his women kept the house clean, made dinner and took care of him and the children they were going to have

•He never got that and he's determined to have it now with you, you'll eventually settle into your roll and be his sweet little wife and bear him children

J stands for JEALOUSY: how they react when jealous? Do they get jealous?

•He often got jealous when he asked you about your life before and you told him about past relationships but other than that he has no reason to be jealous, there's no one else around

K stands for KINDNESS: how they act around their object of obsession?

•Bucky loves and worships you, when he's in a good mood and you haven't upset him he dotes on you and it would be something you loved very much in other circumstances, and you will grow to love it as you grow to love him...or at least as you develop Stockholm Syndrome which you can practically feel your brain giving into in those sweet moments

•You learn after the first 2 weeks of fighting that it's not worth it, he's a super soldier and you are never getting away. You may as well just do what he wants and bask in the sweet worship of the man who loves you

L stands for LOVE LETTER: how would they approach their object of obsession?

•He took you the moment he met you

•And he didn't so much 'take you' as kept you since you walked up to his cabin in the woods when you got lost

M stands for MASK: how different are their public persona from their true selves?

•Bucky is a hero now that he works with The Avengers and people know him as the sweet, sort of quiet gentleman who's best friends with Captain America

•Only you seem to know how terrifying he can really be or how romantic and dramatic he can be

N stands for NAUGHTY: how would they punish their object of obsession?

•Spanking mostly, he's only locked you outside twice and you never tried to get away again since the first time, especially since it’s winter and you don’t want to risk losing toes

•Other than that if you fight he will happily keep you medicated if that's what you need to learn your lesson, it’s only more fun for him to take care of you when your stoned and snuggly

O stands for OPPRESSION: how many rights would they take from their object of obsession?

•Basically everything

•All you know in the world anymore is him and that's how he wanted it

P stands for PATIENCE: how patient are they with their object of obsession?

•Not very patient at all

•Bucky wants you to learn fast and be the house wife he wants

•He shouldn't have to say things more than once

Q stands for QUIT: if their object of obsession died or escaped, would they ever be able to move on?

•Died- He would be a recluse. He would remain in the cabin and bring flowers to your grave everyday

•Escaped- He would catch you. You're in a remote cabin in the middle of nowhere and Bucky knows these woods better than anyone but the animals, you are never going to get away

R stands for REGRET: would they ever regret harming their object of obsession? Would they ever let them go?

•Bucky doesn't want to hurt you, hurting you is just a means to an end

•Once you are trained and obedient, Bucky will be happy never having to hurt you again

S stands for STIGMA: what made their yandere tendencies bloom?

•Bucky had been hoping for a good little wife for a long time and when you showed up, hurt and admitting no one knew where you were, it was too perfect for him not to jump on the opportunity

T stands for TEARS: how would they react to their object of obsession crying/breaking?

•Bucky has no desire to see you cry

•If you're crying after a punishment then he will let you cry it out but if you're crying for another reason, missing your family or something like that he will absolutely hold and comfort you

•Even though you've been trying to get away from him he was very comfortable and warm, he comforted you in a way you never had been in your regular day to day life and he could tell how much you liked it when he was soft with you, Bucky knows that's how he's going to win you over

U stands for UNIQUE: something different they would do compared to others yanderes.

•Bucky keeps you with him isolated in a cabin in the woods where you have no chance of seeing anyone again

•The one Ranger that happened upon you he made sure would never see the light of day again and no one has come since, you will never be found even if someone was looking

V stands for VICE: what weakness their object of obsession could use against them?

•One thing Bucky wants more than anything is to get you pregnant

•He wants you barefoot and pregnant in his cabin and once you catch onto that you try and use it to your advantage, teasing him and wearing as few clothes as possible knowing seeing you like this makes him happy and he's less likely to punish you for whatever it is you do wrong that day

W stands for WIT'S END: would they hurt their object of obsession?

•If he has to hurt you to keep you in line then he will

•Whether that's locking you outside in the rain or snow, or letting you hurt yourself when you try and run from him, or drugging you up, either way he'll take care of you after but you're going to learn

X stands for XOANON: would they worship their object of obsession?

•Bucky loves you with everything he has and he will never let you go

•Once you’re pregnant Bucky will worship the ground you walk on, you will be the most cherished and protected person on the face of the Earth

Y stands for YEARN: how long would they pine after their object of obsession before they snap?

•Bucky takes you immediately the moment he meets you

•From the second you show up in his cabin he will never let you leave him

Z stands for ZENITH: would they ever break their object of obsession?

•He wouldn't let up until you give in and give him what he wants

•After a few months you realize you’re never getting away and you begin to give in quickly, finding out that if you do what he wants and tempt and flirt with him he will go much easier on you and begin breaking you down as you start to enjoy his loving, gentle moments

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

[rozugold]

Ok ramble time

Ok imagine you’re Tubbo. You just got your distant brother figure and your bestie off that damn mountain, though not in the most ideal way (I will make those comics eventuallyyy)

But that’s beside the point. You saved your best friend! You did something right for once! Except sike! your best friend hates you now, and you kind of hate him too (you let him know as much) then you guys stop talking. Which is fine, i mean, it’s not like he was your entire world.

You return to Snowchester! It’s a ghost town, obviously. There’s a memorial of you, decorated with fresh flowers and dusty knick knacks. The flowers are from Ranboo, he’s pretty sweet. He’s also been the one to upkeep your town while you were gone. You hang out with them a lot, they’re the only one who sticks around these days. They’re pretty sweet.

You try to go back to doing the things you did before you died. There’s those nukes you never finished making, so you work on them. And you work on them. And you work on them. And you get nothing done. Your brain feels scattered and far away, it’s impossible to focus. So you give it a break, you can afford to. It’s pretty safe these days with Dream gone, you know because you keep tabs on everyone on the server. There’s some strange things going on here and there but nothing too concerning. You hang out with Ranboo more.

Ah fuck, you two find a baby. It’s a piglin, infected but not fully zombified as it has enough thought to run up to you two for help. So you take it back to snowchester and give it potions to stop the infection. Ranboo is worried it won’t work, you tell him it probably won’t. But you reassure him that if it doesn’t, you’ll take it back to the nether to let it “live” out the rest of it’s days. (Do zombies live?) Ranboo spends the night in your attic with the piglin. He’s pretty sweet. Regardless you tell him to not keep his hopes up too high.

Next morning, it worked! You “dub thee Michael!” Ranboo is relieved. There’s a kid living in your house now.

There’s a kid living in his house now. The timeline becomes unclear at this point since I’m still figuring it out. But now that Michael is in the picture Tubbo starts getting worried. He realizes he has no way of protecting him. Maybe the syndicate come visit Snowchester and that shocks him into thinking about the nukes again. And so Tubbo starts throwing himself into projects again. And it starts getting ✨bad ✨

Honestly, It’s been really fun figuring out how Tubbo deteriorates because everything is so internal with him compared to Tommy. It’s obvious with Tommy, you could see him visibly fall apart (think his exile skins, he stops feeding himself, he doesn’t care when he takes damage) But with Tubbo it isn’t so obvious, atleast not right away. Sure his eye bags get darker and he stares off into space for a little too long. But he still looks put together. (Habitable maybe. Or a learned skill.)

Maybe he eventually gets the nukes working but they’re not as successful as he wanted them to be and that guts him. He takes it as another failure. What if he’s just cursed? Is everything he cares about forever doomed to feel like holding water in his hands? What is wrong with him?

I’m gonna share a song and explain this next part using its lyrics because I’m so ILL over it, it’s the most di!tubbo song ever. Throw on …Well, better than the alternative by Will Wood 👍

Tubbo’s feelings towards Michael is complicated… He absolutely loves him to death but he’s really apprehensive about being a dad. He has this fear that he’s going to somehow corrupt Michael and or fail to keep him safe. So he ends up becoming emotionally distant from him and at his worst he gives him up completely to Ranboo.

I think Ranboo and Tubbo get married as a joke at first. But Ranboo continues to love him so unconditionally and honestly and Tubbo catches a crush, which is absolute HELL for him at first sjdhdj. I imagine him being arospec so this crush is a completely new and surprising feeling and he doesn’t know how to handle it. So he doesn’t, and keeps playing it as a joke even as their relationship develops.

Also the repeat of “everybody’s up on everybody’s business” is very fitting for describing the server. There’s things to be developed here I just haven’t yet… I’m just thinking about the possibilities like the egg, the syndicate, las nevadas… hmmm

This song is begging to be made into an animatic because I can imagine Tubbo screaming at Tommy during this part. He was just trying to help the best way he could… yet things still end badly, and everyone ends up hurt… di!clingy oh di!clingy, they’re such a mess. A bitter, angry, grieving mess. Wait ok i wasn’t planning on writing grieving there but then my next thought was “who are they grieving?” EACH OTHER. THEY’RE GRIEVING EACH OTHER. o(-(

Ok that’s it. Phew that was a lot of writing. Here’s some drawings for your time

[mellowwillowy]

Yan! Philanderer God x GN Reader

CW: Dub-con, Non-con, gaslight, manipulation, sadism-abusive behavior-thoughts, degradations. Reader lost their sanity, Slight NSFW. (XL)

Yan! Philanderer God who was interested in you when they were strolling around the city for funsies.

Yan! Philanderer God who observed you from close, watching how you kill your day and night. They enjoyed their fair share of watching you playing yourself out of desperation sometimes.

Yan! Philanderer God who started to appear in your life as a mortal, worry not, they were only here as your acquaintance. Ah? Oh, now the two of you were friends! Hm? Their name? You could call them A-li or XL!

"My friends call me A-Li while some call me XL! Hm? Ahaha! I have forgotten my name so I can't tell you that!"

Yan! Philanderer God whose touch would always linger around your skin longer than it's supposed to, sometimes squeezing sometimes sliding up and down. They really enjoy feeling the temperature of your body...

Yan! Philanderer God who would peck your cheek at random times and shrug it off as a greeting of them after they puffed out the smoke into your face, kiseru in their hand.

"A peck as a greeting is a nice change don't you think?"

Yan! Philanderer God who would either make your day easier or harder depending on their mood. If they were feeling rather generous, your whole day would almost be the best day you had ever had. If they were feeling rather sour that day though... let's just say you survived.

Yan! Philanderer God who would not hesitate to give you the worst day ever if they were upset over you. The whole thing depended on their anger toward you so try your best to not upset them, let alone make them furious.

"Woah, look at you! Did you have a bad day?"

Yan! Philanderer God who would sometimes pull you into their arms, squeezing you as though they were trying to break your ribs. The toothy smile they showed you washed away all those thoughts though...

Yan! Philanderer God who enjoyed hand feeding you, their thumb would sometimes go past your lip and touch your tongue for a slight second. The feeling of your lips wrapping their finger was enough to make them feel butterflies.

Yan! Philanderer God who would casually rub their thumb over your cheek, eating the rice grain that was once by your cheek.

"One shouldn't waste food, starvation is no joke." They said jokingly yet their face showed a tinge of sadness.

Yan! Philanderer God who would wrap their arms around you as you cooked for dinner, their eyes fluttered close while thinking what to do to the people whose faces turned red at the sight of you, their hugs tightened as they thought about how you did not keep any distance away from them.

Yan! Philanderer God who one day held you in a way friends shouldn't. They sugar-coated their words to the point it made you accept their advances. Just as sweet as the konpeitos, they truly lived to the edges of it.

Yan! Philanderer God who took off your garments while kissing you non-stop, it almost felt as though they were unwrapping a candy.

Yan! Philanderer God who wouldn't stop leaving a trail of hickeys all over your body, marking it as theirs. Oh, how they love to draw blood out of your pricked skin. They'd love to do more, soon.

Yan! Philanderer God who prepared you well before they started feasting you, almost too well to the point it had you squirming around in need. Just how many people have they slept with???

Yan! Philanderer God who would make you accept that it was alright for the two of you to fuck, whispering it all in your ears while they fuck you dumb. Was it only you or did you see their eyes change color for a moment?

Yan! Philanderer God who was very sweet as they showered you with affection after the two of you finished, an aftercare that you couldn't ask for more. The same mouth that drew blood from your skin, the same mouth that pleasured you, and the same mouth that gaslighted you into believing the false truth.

Yan! Philanderer God who would also gaslight you into thinking that everyone around you meant no good, slowly cutting your relation to them one by one without having to dirty their delicate fair hands.

Yan! Philanderer God who would slowly make your life crumble just for fun. They enjoy torturing their loved ones after all~

"Oh dear, I love you so much so don't cry anymore okay? I'm sure things will get better soon." They comforted you as their hand felt your hand that was wrapped with bandages because you accidentally cut yourself.

Yan! Philanderer God who wished they could just somehow tear your limbs off your body and intact a puppet's limbs on you instead so that they could control you like a puppeteer. But they knew they shouldn't do that, especially when you were just a mortal who could die from the pain and shock.

Yan! Philanderer God whose touches grew bolder and tighter around you. They no longer hesitate to leave bruises on your wrist if you dare to anger them just for the slightest bit of inconvenience.

Yan! Philanderer God who would rather not use their delicate hand to feel that cheek of yours with a harsh slap. They wouldn't just yet. Not because they did not want to hurt you but rather because they didn't want to accidentally dislocate your jaw with their inhumane strength,.

"Oyaaah? Why are you wincing as though I was about to hit you?" They cackled as they brought your face closer to theirs, fingers digging into your cheek.

Yan! Philanderer God who knew you no longer had anyone to save you. You were the one who cut ties with everyone after all~

Yan! Philanderer God who enjoyed choking you as their body hovered above you, the two of you may be connected in pleasure but you were too clouded by the idea that you might one day die from their own hand.

And yet that idea no longer scared you, you could feel yourself grow excited. They really broke you in the end.

Yan! Philanderer God who broke you bits by bits every day because they loved you, you silly! Breaking you at once would kill you so they'd rather not take that risk!

Yan! Philanderer God who relished in your cries and plead that slowly turned into beggings for more. They loved the sight of you crying out tears out of desperation to have you bent and fucked into nothingness.

Yan! Philanderer God who slowly planned to bring you to the Heavenly Realm and joined their harem. While you might be the only person who helped them in no way, they were sure the men and women in their harem would only teach you a bit of lesson~

"Hm? Ah, don't worry~ You are just a silly little mortal that can only cry, what more can you do but serve yourself as my silly fucktoy?"

Yan! Philanderer God who did not stop the member of their harem from belittling you for being useless.

"So you are just her little toy?"

"You can't even hold a sword properly! How are you supposed to protect him!"

"So you don't even have any relations that would benefit us? Why did they even bother bringing you here..."

Yan! Philanderer God who sometimes would step in as your hero, reprimanding them for saying such things to you while covering your ears. The moment they turned your back, you would never be able to see the way they smiled eerily at the others. You would never see how the others cackled behind your back.

Yan! Philanderer God who would sometimes bring you to the heavenly meeting as their new doll. Oh please don't mind how that man glared at you as though he was ready to rip you apart the moment they left you. It was so adorable seeing you clutched their robe while fearing you'd be left alone, again.

Yan! Philanderer God who would sometimes make you sit on their lap instead of standing behind them with the man. You could feel daggers piercing you, daggers of fury and embarrassment.

Yan! Philanderer God who would visit you whenever they had the time to, entering your chamber without notifying you earlier. You were not doing anything that would enrage them, right?

Yan! Philanderer God who would contemplate making you immortal, while it would allow them to do all that gruesome stuff on you, it would take away the idea of owning a mortal in their heavenly abode.

Yan! Philanderer God who finally decided that it'd be a great idea to force you to drink the elixir of immortality upon seeing your flustered face when you were talking with another god that they despised. The God who was once their spouse and executioner.

"Did you have fun talking to Yuchen? Looks like I have to fucking cut your tongue so you can no longer talk to him." They growled as their fingers were wrapped tightly around your neck, suffocating you until you felt like you were seeing stars in the broad daylight.

Yan! Philanderer God who fucked you dumb to the point you could no longer feel your legs. They pushed all kinds of boundaries aside and were endowed with the idea of making you immobile from this one night. The treatment from the harem members worsened when the news of you conversing with Hao Yuchen spread. It seemed like everyone in this clan despised that man.

Yan! Philanderer God who did not let you sleep despite the soreness that you were feeling, their hand squished open your mouth before pushing the concoction to your lip, the content flowing into your throat.

"This is the elixir of immortality and heaven forbids me from not fucking you up now." Their eyes were dim and filled with fury and excitement, you could feel something cool and hot working its way in your internals, squeezing your organs to the point you felt the need to cut your stomach open.

Yan! Philanderer God who let you pass out, making you think that they were kind enough to allow you to rest. Right?

"Ah? Aren't you the Liu clan leader's toy? Looks like you could never run away from A-Li anymore, fufufu... Especially not when they were ready to mark you permanently as theirs..."

You shuddered when you accidentally ran into him but his last words made you wonder what exactly he meant. And by god did he mean his words.

CW: Branding

Yan! Philanderer God who made you kneel on the bed of flowers, your wrists bound to each other behind your back while the two women made you stay still, baring your top naked for the cold wind to hit.

Yan! Philanderer God who cooed you as the man handed them the branding iron that was heated earlier by him. The floral pattern that was on it was the same as the one they had on their robe. It once looked beautiful and innocent but it looked deadly now.

Yan! Philanderer God who did not hesitate to press it against your skin, the smell of something burning pierced your nostrils. Had you still stayed in your mortal body, you were CERTAIN you would have died from the pain.

Yan! Philanderer God who wrapped their hands around your face upon finishing the rites, their kisses lingered all over your face while licking the tears that fell out of your eyes, praising you for being so good.

"Good doll, good doll... I know how much it hurts and you are doing so well... ssshhhh..." Even when you were so dazed by the pain, you could see most of the people frowned at their leader's words.

If they know how much it hurts then why are they doing this?

Yan! Philanderer God who was once innocent just like you. You see, the two of you were not different now that you had suffered a bit of their sufferings.

Yan! Philanderer God who couldn't wait to teach you more bits by bits about their sufferings so that the two of you could finally understand and love each other completely!

"Oooohh... my sweet little songbird... I'll make you cry so much before you finally lose the ability to cry..."

Yan! Philanderer God who kissed your quivering blue lips, it felt so warm and addicting. You wished to feel more. More and more!

""I will never allow anyone to love you like I do.""

Even though you never knew their name, you felt like you had known their name all along. XL, was that their name? No.

𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬:

sooooo, do you guys understand why I said she is the most dangerous Yan? What's mentioned here is only half of what she's capable of doing.

FUN FACT: This yan is the reader to the Yan! Emperor.

XL: *hides face* no comment.

So XL is mostly known as A-Li (lore-wise) and IRINA (code-name). In this one case though, we are more focused on XL as A-Li. I did not detail much about her pronouns and gender but there were a few NPCs that clarified XL as a man, woman, and either.

Lore-wise, XL is mostly shown as a woman but she appears as a man in cases where she has to meet her devotees or attend the heavenly meeting. IRINA is used in a different setting and barely appears in any fics.

Characters Mentioned :

Man - Feng Jianyu

God - Hao Yuchen

Unnamed Women - Liu Qinghua (JP: Sayaka) , Liu Wei (JP: Yui)

For their appearances: X , XL(you can scroll and find more here)

[allfearstofallto]

The way you write yandere childe makes me literally salivate omg <333 would you mind doing any of A, C, D, H, N, O, W, or Z for him? I hope you don’t feel pressured to write all or any if you don’t want to 😭

No pressure at all friend!! I love writing for Childe!! Trust me! I've been waiting for someone to ask for him!!!

TW: Dub/Non-Con, NSFW, Violence against reaader

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Childe always has cold hands. You know this, because his hands are always on you. There isn't a moment where Childe is near you where he's not touching you.

It could be something as simple as interlocking his fingers with yours or going as far to force kisses upon you, ones where it feels like he's trying to swallow you whole with his tongue down your throat.

He says he just can't keep his hands off of you and that truly does seem to be the case. His cold fingers always find a way to snake themselves onto some part of your body. A sign of affection yes, but also a warning.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

He took you because he loves you and wants you near, but Childe isn't against matching the energy you give him. He's playful at heart, after all, but even that has it's limits.

Being soft towards you is his original goal, he wants to pamper you and adore you while you're less than a few feet away. But shoot him glares or fight him off? He can do the same, the only difference is, he's stronger.

He knows that physical wounds will always heal, but that words last forever, so even when he hurts you, he tells you how much he still loves and cares about you. He's only doing this because you can't seem to stop acting up.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Childe's presence alone is against your will. He knows that, so he makes sure to always be near you. Who would've thought that such an annoying man could actually be a Fatui harbinger?

Around every corner, behind every door, it seems like he's even in every room. Childe is always there, even when you don't want him to be. He does many things that you hate, kissing you, hugging you, forcing his affection onto you whenever he pleases, but the worst thing he does is be there.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

It was just a smile. That's what you told him, but that's what he refused to believe.

You smiled at the man with the funny hat. One of Childe's coworkers if you remember correctly. That man shot you a glare and out of pure nerves you smiled back, causing him to look away with his arms crossed. A harmless interaction to you, but one that left your husband fuming.

You were called lots of things that night, slut, bitch, whore. You never smile at him, he'd yell as he fucked you with your face forced against the snowy ground. Your weren't even given the courtesy of a warm bed not when Childe was angry.

You begged him to at least take you indoors. The snow was burning your skin and worst of all, you were embarrassed that someone would see you, but he just scoffed and left another stinging slap on your already sore ass. A whore like you wants to be seen.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Punishments from Childe can either be the most painful thing you've ever experienced, or a joke made to embarrass you. It honestly just depends on what you did and most importantly, how he's feeling.

You've gotten some of the normal ones. Things like spankings and even a version of “time out” where he made you sit in a corner and think on what you did. But you've also been starved for a week with nothing, but water. Sitting at the dinner table, you'd watch him eat his meal, savoring every bite, while your stomach aches from the hunger pains. You could beg, but Childe typically stood true to his words.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

As many as he deems necessary. There are the obvious ones, like not being allowed to leave without his permission, eating your meals with him, sharing your bed with him, things that from the outside looking in seem normal, but are actually just ways for him to have more control over you.

But there are other things he does, things that are a bit more strange. He doesn't like the idea of you even gazing at another man, so all the staff are female. You're dressed to appeal to him, so you wear what he wants you to. Usually things that are revealing in nature, showing off your thighs, chest, and midriff.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

The simple answer is yes. And without hesitance too. Childe is strong. Stronger than he looks and much stronger than his carefree attitude would lead most to believe. Despite his strength, he isn't scared or worried about hurting you.

Be careful of how hard you fight, because he fights back harder. He won't hit you back because he wants to, but because he has to. He has to show you that you can't always get your way, that you can't just expect him to treat you with kindness, when you're not doing the same to him.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Not intentionally, but it does happen. After trying and failing so many times, after hurting you so much, losing yourself day after day, the light in your eyes is finally gone.

It's one of the only things he regrets. He still has you there, but you're hollow on the inside. One day you're there, the next you're just gone. He does everything in his power to completely bring you back, but he's met with dry, whispery responses from you. He knows that you're truly gone when he tempts you with an easy escape, an open door that you could walk out of with no hassle. He left, giving you the opportunity to just waltz out without him to stop you. But when he comes back, you're still there. And that door is still wide open.

[lady-of-ocs]

Living for the Training Camp!!!

I spent the day being not productive in anything, so I only watched through episode 8 today, but I'M HAVING GREAT FUN, THANK YOU! The training camp is so fun! SO MANY CHARACTERS TO ENJOY. Also just fyi I saw that someone who commented on the last post isn't a fan of Haikyuu ships so, you know, just so everyone knows I do genuinely ship characters in this show. Sorry I guess?

Hinata is getting a little too overzealous here. When he ran into Asahi, I was like HONEY THAT MAN IS DOUBLE YOUR SIZE HE'S GOING TO CRUSH YOU (and that would crush him because he's a gentle soul). That being said, it was sort of disheartening to see no one believing in what he was saying and wanting to improve. Like, hey coach, isn't the whole point of a practice game to, you know, practice? Why not give it a shot? But whatever, I don't know anything about volleyball!

YEESH the fight between Kageyama and Hinata hurt a little. There are many things that I've gone into this show knowing about, but this wasn't one of them, so it caught me way off guard. I feel the worst for Yachi, honestly. It's like Tanaka said, the whole thing scared her pretty bad. THIS ISN'T WHAT MY DAUGHTER SIGNED UP FOR ACTUALLY. Oh and Hina's whole line about how he thought he found more than a partner, but a friend? Brb I'm dead. That one was like a bullet to the heart. Kageyama really hurt him.

I honestly love seeing everyone working so hard on new skills and wanting to improve. Asahi and his serves, Noya working on that fancy set (and the fact that they decided to practice together is feeding my little Asanoya heart- I fear they are my Karasuno favorites, closely followed by Tsukkiyama, WHICH WE'LL GET TO), and the attackers working on the synchronized attack were all really cool to see. I like being able to see them work and grow!

Bless their little country hearts for not being able to recognize what is and isn't the Tokyo tower. Hina baby, never change. Also KENMA!!!! MY BABY BOY!!!! And husband Kuroo! WOO! I LOVE TRAINING CAMP!

So many fuck up moments for Karasuno and I am wheezing. It's either laugh at them or die from secondhand embarrassment, and I choose laugh. Look at those boys run. Please tell me they win a practice match sometime during this week. They're killing me here.

I AM VERY HAPPY TO BE GETTING A TSUKKI ARC. He's a salty bitch but he's genuinely one of my favorites. His and Yamaguchi's friendship is really nice. His annoyance and reluctant bonding with Kuroo and Bokuto (BOKUTO!!!!!) is so fucking funny to me. Kuroo really knows how to get under people's skin and I enjoy watching it very much. ANYWAY. THE TSUKKI AND YAMAGUCHI FRIENDSHIP BACKSTORY IS JUST. UGH. Tsukki was genuinely a really sweet kid (especially to Yamaguchi) and he admired his brother so much, but that one lie just destroyed him and, seemingly, his enjoyment of volleyball. I think it says a lot that not only has Yamaguchi remained by Tsukki, but Tsukki has let him stay. If he wanted to get rid of Yamaguchi, I have no doubt that he could. But he doesn't, and I think it's because he does genuinely value their friendship. When Yamaguchi runs after him, he turns around and gives him his full attention. Even though Yamaguchi's words don't convince him to change his mind about volleyball, he clearly takes them to heart, hence why he approaches Kuroo, Bokuto, and Akaashi (mostly Kuroo and Bokuto but, you know, Akaashi is there). And he seems really pleased that Yamaguchi said something to him, based on his smile and calling him "really cool" (or badass in the English dub). So, you know, he clearly values Yamaguchi. This episode is one of the big reasons why, of all the childhood friend pairings (as platonic and romantic), Tsukki and Yamaguchi are my favorite. Also, it's my understanding that calling someone by their given name is an indication of closeness in Japanese culture, and Tsukki calls Yamaguchi "Tadashi" a lot (though to be fair, it seems like a lot of the guys on the volleyball team call each other by their first names, and almost everyone calls Daichi Daichi). The fact that their friendship could've been started with Tsukki insulting both the boys picking on Yamaguchi and Yamaguchi himself is kind of hilarious to me. But either way, their whole relationship (especially as children) is very sweet. Love them.

ANYWAY, THAT WAS A VERY LONG RAMBLE ABOUT TSUKKI AND YAMAGUCHI. I'm excited to see next episode with this new fire in Tsukishima. I'm also pretty sure this is going to be the episode with the Bokuto, Akaashi, and Hinata vs. Kuroo, Lev, and Tsukishima matchup, so I'm very much looking forward to that.

OH BY THE WAY. BEEN MEANING TO MENTION THIS ONE FOR THE PAST FIVE DAYS OR WHATEVER. What do you mean Coach Ukai's English VA is the same guy voicing Adam in Sk8 the Infinity? I HEARD HIM TALK AND I WAS LIKE "I know this motherfucker."

I've got a final to take tomorrow, so I may not watch many episodes again, but we'll see. Wish me luck and probably see y'all tomorrow <3