#so to make up a spine of what I should record myself is at its core impossible. I am just not very smart is the thing

[b4kuch1n]

hey lads. I loathe the idea of doing a speedpaint just cause so I'm gonna put this one out there for a potential near-future thing. is there anything in my art you'd like elaborated on? concept to execution, anything inbetween, how I do ink, how I draw specific things, how I use references, anything’s game

[whoisneo404]

trans ftm dom nick bf smut? extra points if its rough degrading and filthy (if ur comfortable ofc if not i can give u more fluff prompts)

Eye roll.

Summary: you have been teasing (bf) Nick, he has been busy all day editing and recording, so when Matt and Chris leave to get food at night, Nick desides to make you regret your desitions.

Tw: degradation, cursing.

Note: this IS nsfw, if you don’t like it just don’t read. It’s MY FIRST TIME WRITING NSFW so maybe its not that good.

Note 2: reader IS FTM, so afab body parts will be used to describe their body, but I didn’t got into many ditails. Also, reader wears a binder.

It’s 8 in the morning and I’m looking at the tshirts infront of me, I don’t wanna wear any of them, I look at myself in the mirror, maybe I can just spend the day like this, its not like anyone in the house will care, besides, we have all been good friends since we were kids. I grab my pants and put them on, I look good.

‘’Are you coming to eat or not?’’ my boyfriend Nick enters his room and looks at me up and down. ‘’And your shirt?’’

‘’Didn’t feel like wearing one right now.’’ He closes the door behind him and walks over, standing behind me and wraping his strong arms around me. ‘’Is that so?’’ he whispers in my ear with a low voice sending shivers down my spine.

‘’Yeah… something wrong?’’ he leans down, his head resting in my shoulder leaving kisses on it.

‘’Nothing, you just look so fucking hot and its breakfast time not turn me on time.’’ His hands start trailing from my waist to my hips pressing me against him. ‘’But we have to go now, or I won’t stop.’’ He gives me a kiss on the cheek and walks to the door.

--

After breakfast and talking for a while with the guys, I help Matt clean the table. Chris is in his room playing videogames and Nick on the leaving room editing their last car video.

‘’And that’s what I bought this weekend, I think I can make great outfits out of those things, don’t you think so?’’ Matt talks as he finishes cleaning the spilled juice.

‘’Yeah, those are great clothing items. I love thrifting.’’ I smile at him. ‘’We should go together someday.’’

‘’Yes, that would be so fun. I’ll be going to my room now, see you around.’’

‘’All right, bye Matty.’’ As he leaves to his room, I turn around to see Nick sitting in the couch with his headphones off and a frown on his face. I walk to him and sit by his side. ‘’everything all right?’’

‘’I don’t know, why don’t you ask Matty?’’ he raises one eyebrow and I let out a short laugh. ‘’What’s so funny?’’

‘’Are you really grumpy because I talked with Matt?’’ Nick doesn’t say anything, he just shrugs his shoulder and crosses his arms over his chest.

‘’Baby, come on, we are friends. Besides, I’m dating the most handsome guy on earth, there is no one I would rather spend my time with.’’ I say as I kiss his cheek and play with his hair. I grab him by the cheek and make him face me, kissing his lips with passion. He leans back, putting his laptop to the side and grabbing my waist firmly pulling me against him until I’m on top of him.

‘’You are mine.’’ He says between kisses.

‘’I know.’’ I murmur back and stand up with a grin on my face.

‘’What the fuck? Why are you standing up? Come here.’’ He seems confused and annoyed.

‘’No, you have to finish editing the video.’’ He lets out a groan and I give him a kiss on his forehead. ‘’You can do it.’’ I say and start walking to the kitchen to grab him a drink, I see him adjust himself in the couch trying to hide the bulge between his pants.

--

It’s night time, I’m sitting on Nicks lap as he answers e-mail about collabs and up coming photoshoots. I start to get bored of scrolling on my phone and looking at the screen of his laptop, so I start nibbling at his neck and jaw, I feel his body tense up.

‘’Stop that.’’ He says serious.

‘’I’m not doing anything.’’ I say ‘innocently’ and keep giving him kisses and bites.

‘’Behave. Or you’ll regret it.’’

‘’You are no fun Nick.’’ I roll my eyes and cross my arms.

‘’Don’t roll your eyes at me or I’ll make them roll all night.’’ He looks at me dead in the eyes, my cheeks are red and I look away from him. I was gonna say something but Chris and Matt’s voice sound from the front door.

‘’We going out for dinner, I think we’ll take a while.’’ Chris screams.

‘’All right, we’ll order food, take care.’’ Nick screams back.

‘’M’kay, bye.’’ The door shuts and the engine of the car starts rumbling.

‘’As I was saying.’’ Nick grabs my jaw with one hand and makes me look at him. ‘’Behave, or you’ll regret it.’’

‘’Whatever.’’ I mumble and roll my eyes at him again.

‘’Okay, that’s enough.’’ He shuts his laptop and carries me over his shoulder into his room throwing me into the bed. ‘’I have been waiting for this all day.’’ He says more to himself than to me and climbs into bed.

Nick is now on top of me, kissing me roughly. I feel his hands going up and down my waist and legs until he breaks the kiss to take off my pants and hoodie that he gave at some point in the day. He grabs my legs and opens them up.

‘’I swear, I’ll make you scream so hard the neighbors will know that you are a whore for my dick.’’ He whispers against my ear and start kissing my neck, leaving marks all over it, he starts trailing his kisses down my chest, ribs, stomach, until he reaches my boxers which he takes off quickly.

He begins kissing my thighs leaving bite marks all over them, he gives my clit a kiss and then he starts licking and kissing it. My back arches and my hips move uncontrollably against his tongue, my hand pushing and pulling him by the hair.

‘’Please, please.’’ the room is filled with my moans and sloppy noises.

‘’Please what, baby?’’ he murmurs between licks.

‘’Need you, need you inside.’’

‘’Aren’t you so fucking needy? Always wanting to be fucked and filled. Does my fucktoy want me inside of him?’’ He grins looking down at me, I nod eagerly. ‘’Come on doll, use your words, or you won’t get anything.’’

‘’Please, want you inside, need you inside.’’ I slur out, Nick grabs me by the chin and kisses me roughly before spanking my thigh.

‘’That’s it, that’s my slut.’’

thats it, idk how to continue. again, this is my firts time writing smut or nsfw so its not the best. but i tried my best.

feel free to seend all the requests you want and ill try my best to do them as soon as i can.

take care and be kind.

[cvlutos]

So it's established that Jamil is on the strong side, right? With how his unique magic isn't something just anyone would be able to do and how he's really smart but also smart enough to look average? (This could apply to other boys too but I'm in a Jamil mood)

I wanna see him fight for us. I wanna see us in danger, and we yell out Jamil's name, and he comes to our rescue, but its not just him rescuing us- it's him engulfed in fury and making sure your attackers never come near you again. Even better if it's someone who underestimates him. Maybe some Snooty tooty high up guys who visit NRC for something, and since Jamil is a model student he's one of the students to show them around. And those guys are the kind where they compliment him but also sneer at how he's only *average*. Backhanded compliments and such. And then they spot Us, and they're like "That person has no magic, what are they doing here?!" And if you're a girl, well, they'd have something to say about that too. They're not happy with your existence at NRC. So before they leave...it wouldn't hurt to do something about you, right? Like forcibly drag you away? Maybe hit you a few times or tie you up so you stop struggling? And you can't fight back so you yell out in desperation for the one who unknowingly knows your heart- Jamil. And -I dunno how *shrug*- he finds you, sees what's happening to you, and all restraint has left him as he pulls out his pen.

… it’s the weekend. I’m tryna not write rn. I’m trying to control myself. But you had to make it real difficult. I can’t stand you. /j

♡ J.V | FIGHT FOR ME | ANGST W/ FLUFF | [TW: VIOLENCE, BULLYING, BLOOD]

There’s only three of them. Three against one and each with magic, who are dead set on making you remember what.you.are. Magicless. It doesn’t matter if you know the fact, live by that simple inability in which makes you a forever outliner no matter where you go, where you exist. You will always be magicless, bottom of the barrel. Useless. You know this, you do. Yet you make amends elsewhere. You do. You really try.

It hurts.

His broad fist slamming into your nose, while another kick your legs from out under you. While a third take a photo. They laugh, a laugh that mixes in with the ringing of your ears and the pounding of your skull. You feel your body collide with the ground, and they laugh again. As if a record on repeat, they want you to know how pathetic you are. You can hear the click of their camera, their snickers and words that don’t quite reach your ears.

“You aren’t supposed to disappear. Youre still on NRC grounds—What are you,” You struggle to see past their large bodies, yet ypu know his voice. His tired and annoyed voice that stop short. As if fully taking in the scene before him, the others taunt, laughing, saying how they couldn’t care less about ‘NRC stupid rules’. Especially since they let you in. You struggle to sit, to open your mouth to simply catch his gaze. And you do, charcoal grey to yours.

It hurts.

To see his knee slammed in the first students face, fingers interlocked and wrapped around the jerk’s huge head. It happened within a second, for the vice warden to spring from the ground, as if it was mere second nature to bring such a towering body down easily. Yet the look upon his face was neutral, as if his very expression was craved from dark stone, while his eyes, filled with such rage inwhich it sent a shiver down your own spine. He wouldn’t hurt you, as he falls with lands and with a simple step is already on the second one, sending a punch to the face, you swear you could hear a bone crack, before he could even utter a word.

He feels like the wind, the blows past on a hot day, warming your face, forcing you to focus solely on it more than whatever cause such heat. It should burn… yet, your ignore the ache and turn your body. It all happened so fast, with all three bodies littered on the ground. While Jamil stands victorious. Breathing deeply through his nose, shoulders tense, and hands clenched.

Yet when he looks at you, there isn’t any anger, only worry. Fear. Regret.

As if whatever you saw before was merely a fragment. Yet as he kneels before you, face pulling into a frown as he pulls a bundle of napkins and tissues, most definitely in case Kalim needed them, from his pocket he whips the blood from your nose. Sitting in the silence. He’s a soft breeze, barely unnoticeable unless you stop for a moment. “I was worried when you disappeared like that…” He pauses, as if it just dawned on him what truly happened. You got hurt. You really did.

“If anything—and I mean anything happens like that again. Call my name. Call it. Shout it. Scream. Cry,” there’s unwavering loyalty in his words, “and I will fight for you.”

Always.

[alice-after-dark]

Deer Wife AU - Special Broadcast

Inspired by @hiemaldesirae's deer sinner Vox designs (1 | 2 | 3 | 4) and his Attic-Wife Vox AU

Vox listens to Alastor's radio show for the first time.

Feel better soon, Ran!

Alastor's show is its own trigger warning.

The radio Alastor had gotten him was gorgeous. It was a beautiful Cathedral-style one, handcrafted and custom made. Vox had flustered endlessly when Alastor had casually placed it atop his bedside table. It had to have cost a small fortune! He couldn't possibly accept such a gift! But Alastor had only tutted, told him he deserved the best, and assured him his finances were not at all in jeopardy. He was happy to spoil him.

Vox now lies across his bed, waiting eagerly for Alastor's show to start. The red deer had been mysterious about what exactly his show would entail, especially regarding his "special guest" for the event. Vox hasn't left his room much since the incident, but Alastor has assured him that it's alright. He had quite the scare, after all. The blue deer feels a burst of butterflies when he hears the Radio Demon's smooth voice filter in over the static.

"Salutations, listeners!" Alastor greets his audience. "Today I have a very special broadcast for you! A little lesson in what happens when someone touches what is mine."

The static flares for a moment on the last word and Vox's heart beats faster. Alastor is talking about him. He's announcing to all of Hell that Vox belongs to him. That should probably disturb him more than it does. It probably definitely shouldn't make him as giddy as a teenage girl who just got asked to go steady with her boyfriend. Never in his life had he truly felt so entirely and utterly wanted. Alastor took him for everything he was and everything he wasn't. He made him feel safe and secure in a way he never had. He handled him with care and doted on him endlessly. Alstor made him feel like something precious, not just a pretty face.

In the background, Vox can hear the faint muffled whimpers and cries of who he assumes is the Sinner he'd killed. It had been about two weeks before the Sinner had regenerated enough for Alastor to proclaim him broadcast-ready...whatever that meant. He can hear the red deer's footsteps as he moves closer to those stifled sounds.

"Oh come now, my good man! This is quite unbecoming! Sniveling like this, my goodness. What would the papers say?"

There is a light shuffling and a gasp.

"I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY! PLEASE LET ME GO! I SWEAR I WON'T GO NEAR HIM AGAIN! YOU'LL NEVER SEE ME AGAIN! PLEASE!"

Alastor laughs and the sound makes Vox's heart flutter. "Why you are certainly right on both those claims, sir! You won't ever touch him again and no one will ever see you again."

Whatever the Sinner intends to say next is cut off by his own screams. The sound of flesh tearing erupts from the speakers.

He's eating him alive, Vox realizes as a shiver rushes up his spine. He's eating him alive on live broadcast for all of Hell to hear because he hurt me.

Eventually, the screams fade out and only a weak gurgling is left in their place. Then silence until Alastor's voice returns.

"I do hope that was as much of a joy for you all as it was for me! Until next time, my listeners!"

Music began to play (Vox recognized it as one of the songs Alastor would play for him on the record player) and soon enough there was a knock on his door. Despite his recent meal, Alastor is pristine as always. He puts his arms around Vox's waist and pulls him close. "Did you like the show, my dear?"

Vox nods eagerly, snuggling up to the Radio Demon's chest. "It was great. Are all your shows like that?"

-

Alastor hums as he traces Vox's ear with the tip of his claw, making it twitch. "Not all of them. Sometimes I talk about myself and my life above. Sometimes I just play music. It depends on my mood really."

The blue deer flattens his ears. "You've barely told me anything about your life! I only just got started listening to your show..." He squeaks when Alastor picks him up and carries him over to the little loveseat nestled into the corner of the room. He sets Vox on his lap and kisses his quickly.

"All you need do is ask, darling. What you you like to know?"

The suggestive position makes the blue deer blush, but he quickly shakes it off. He leans his head on Alastor’s should and gazes up at him adoringly. "What was your first kill like?"

"My, my, going right for the jugular, aren't we?" The Radio Demon sits back, eyes wistful. "It was my uncle, actually. My father had recently passed and..."

(Here's the radio he got Vox btw. Fun fact, it costs almost 50k)

[chronicallyuniconic]

i recently went through my medical records all the way back from birth to present day

i saw things, that really, should have been accounted for at the time, and treated, but weren't

i was constantly in and out of hospital as a baby, sepsis, bronchitis, unable to hydrate, unknown infections

but what really annoyed me, was seeing the reports, multiple times, of me saying I was having knee and hip pain, of saying I was nauseous for no reason

at one point, I saw a letter telling them to refer me to a neurologist. It didn't happen. WHY didn't it happen. I would have known in 2006. I should have known in 2006.

all the symptoms were making me depressed and made me think it was my fault, either blaming myself, or doctors saying its just psychological and I need to get outside more and practice mindfulness, which makes me completely miserable by the way.

then, again in the records, I broke my coccyx aged 15, and they noticed a problem with the lower levels of my spine, but it was never followed up, I never knew til reading these notes

i don't even know how or what I feel. I've known my whole life something wasn't right, or off, I've always been away in myself, going through things in ways that I soon discovered my peers didn't, so I already knew, that something was just "wrong"

i didn't know the problem would be my brain until maybe 5 years ago, when it's been the problem all along. I genuinely wanna make a list of every single complaint I've made, versus the treatment I got for it. It's pitiful & there's just noone to put fault on this? It's on many people, for the simple act of not believing me.

[captain-mj]

Part 3 of pornstar Koenig. You know what we discussed and I am holding your ribs hostage

I'm going to start only answering asks that threaten my bones because this is so funny

Also, if its italicized, its in a language only one of them can understand, thought I'd make this easier on myself

Horangi had a few kinks that were a bit more... out there. He didn't want to talk about them openly, still having that shame about those topics.

So the fact that König couldn't understand him was just a bonus for him because he could speak in Korean and he wouldn't know. He was fairly certain König was doing this as well since he always got shy when Horangi asked for him to translate what he had said.

They were trying something new today and it made Horangi's insides both tense with anxiety and hot with how attractive it was.

König had a camera on him. After some discussion, it was mostly on his back and not his face. He could stomach those scars just a little easier than the one's on his face.

"I just don't understand why you want to record me."

"You wanted me to treat you like I did them, yes?" König had basically purred at him and Horangi had gotten flustered and agreed.

Horangi's hands were tied behind his back as König fucked him hard. Horangi begged for mercy and König, who had no clue what he was saying, took that as a plea for harder. It was perfect.

König kissed along his neck and rutted into him. His hands held him down easily so the binds were basically useless, mostly just keep him from scratching at König. Apparently he had "left marks" that "didn't heal for a week", whatever that means.

"I love you so much, little tiger." König purred to him before sinking his teeth in his shoulder. He held him closer, rolling his hips just right to make Horangi's leg shake.

"Please, you're so big." Horangi pled against him, arching his back so he could take him deeper. "You're breaking me in half."

"Want to tell you how beautiful I find you." König kissed him hard, almost smashing their teeth together. He yanked him up so he was basically in his lap and fucked up into him as hard as he could, growling along his throat.

Tears started running down Horangi's face and he wasn't playing it up for the camera. Pleasure was sparking up his spine with every move of the man underneath him and he could feel himself getting close. König stopped right as he was about to come, giving him a second to breath and come down. Horangi whimpered.

"You dick."

"It's called edging. Do you want to end the show so soon?"

It only occurred to Horangi now that the position change may have put his face in camera but when he looked, he realized König must've thought of that. It was angled to only view his chest and it made him melt a tiny bit that König thought of that.

König kissed along his jaw. "My love, I'd spoil you if you let me."

Horangi shivered, flushing a little. König's hands ran along his thighs as he thrust back up into him. It was maddening. He started to get close again and König paused.

Horangi shook. "You're being so rough with me, please." König caught the word please and fucked him harder, exactly what Horangi wanted. His legs started to shake and he whimpered a little. "My darling, please, mercy."

König growled and didn't stop this time, coming in him and letting Horangi finally finish. Horangi shivered against him and melted.

"We should upload it."

König flushed. "What??"

"We should post it! Is your account still up?" Horangi smiled at him.

"Yes..." König smiled. "Maybe we could..." He ended up posting it later after cleaning Horangi up. Horangi let König spoil him, purring at the feeling.

The next day, König hummed. "We have more views than I was expecting."

Horangi jumped up immediately to look. "Any comments?"

"Just a few. Mostly in Korean. Can you translate?"

"Uh... Let me see here." Horangi took it from and started to read them. "Several about how hot you are. How hot I am. Some about how they want to fuck us, let's see... Oh, dirty talk. Someone is basically roleplaying."

König translated the German ones for him, all similar.

And then.

The bane of Horangi's existence.

Monolingual people.

"Can someone translate what they're saying?"

"Oh! Yeah, so the Korean is saying 'its too big' and begging for mercy. No clue on the German."

"The German is mostly just saying he loves him. How beautiful he is. I thought this was sweet. Is that really what he's saying?"

A few more Koreans and Germans started to talk, translating everything.

"I don't think they talked much about what the video was supposed to be."

Horangi stayed in blissful denial while his eyes slowly scanned over everything. Anger flashed in his chest for only a second before he looked at König, who looked very flustered and slightly upset. He then hit bargaining.

"Listen..."

"Was I hurting you?"

"No! No! Look... I like... roleplaying... And I didn't know how to bring that up. And I promise to never do that again but."

König was staring at him.

"You said you loved me?"

König looked terrified. "I... Um... I love you. This isn't... how I wanted you to first hear it from me. But... Yes. I love you. I usually tell you."

"Why in German?"

"I was too nervous to say it in a language we both understand."

"I love you too big guy." Horangi blushed. "And you're perfect in bed, don't worry. I didn't think about this when I said we should post it... I always assumed you were dirty talking me..."

"I didn't either." König pulled him a little closer. "Do you want to roleplay more?"

"Get the camera."

[kyndredravenstories]

Eyes of Infinity: Delirium Chapter 6

Hello, I have been posting my work on AO3 and recently decided to venture here to Tumblr. Please note: This story is 18+. No minors. Please read tags carefully. Link to AO3 below but I will also be posting the chapters here.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53564641/chapters/148721101#workskin

Pairing: Sylus/Female MC with some elements of Xavier/Female MC

Genre: Romance, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst, Adventure, Smut, Porn with Big Plot and Big Feelings

Content Warning (For the entire fic): Explicit sexual content, spoilers and alterations to existing lore and cards/memories/tender moments/secret times, size kink, size difference, vaginal sex, cunnilingus, anal sex, fingering, all kinds of fingering, elements of consensual somno, dom!Sylus, jealousy, possessive!Sylus, Mephisto stalking, typical game violence, battle and combat

Summary: To love him meant stepping over the threshold and crossing into darkness. To be with him meant accepting the lure of the shadows. And to protect him from betrayal meant sacrifice. I knew not how, only that I would not let time sever our paths ever again.

Previous Chapters: Ch 1 / Ch 2 / Ch 3 / Ch 4 / Ch 5

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I wake up ravenous.

My first instinct is to find food. Immediately. It feels like my stomach is rubbing up against my spine. I'm thirsty, too. Parched like I've been in a desert for weeks. As I move to get up, I realize I'm lying on a soft mattress covered in black silk sheets. They swish softly with each of my motions. I wince as I get up. My body throbs with each stretch of my muscles, and my head is pounding like a drum. I reach up in response to the pain, discovering that my shoulder, arm, and part of my head are covered in gauze and bandages. I vaguely remember the battle at the Mythe; my memory is still hazy. But, I do recall waking up in Sylus's arms and drifting off as I lay in the bath.

I look around. This place isn't the same one I fell asleep in. In fact, I do recognize this bed and the beautifully carved headboard. My cheeks grow hot. This is Sylus's home. And his bed. He must have taken me here after what happened. I should probably be worried. After all, I'm in the N109, in the home of its proverbial king. Yet, I'm more curious than afraid.

A pair of soft black slippers is waiting for me at the side of the bed. Someone dressed me in a warm sweatshirt and pants. The sleeves are much too long, and I have to fold up the pants so I don't trip over them. I spot a full length mirror some distance away and pad to it. As I examine my reflection, my cheeks grow even hotter. I swear that lately all I wear are Sylus's clothes. The thought is so intimate that I don't know what to do with myself. For now, I file it away for later introspection.

A shuffling sound in the corner catches my attention.

"Mephisto," I call out, spotting the large crow snoozing on his golden perch by Sylus's study. He blinks open one eye and makes a grumbling noise, going back to sleep soon after.

I make a circle around the room, taking in the décor, shelves of books, records, and ornaments. Sylus has incredible taste. Either that, or he hires a private decorator. Either way, I'm impressed. I'm also curious to learn more about the rest of this house. As I approach the doorway with double doors, Mephisto caws and flutters over to perch on my uninjured shoulder.

Behind me, a familiar ring tone jingles a pleasant melody. I turn around and see a phone lying on Sylus's desk. Walking over to it, I see words flashing on the caller ID:

Pick up

Curious, I take the call, pressing the phone to my ear.

"Good morning," a soft baritone greets.

"Sylus? How did you know I was awake?" On my shoulder, Mephisto caws. "Oh, I see."

"How are you feeling?"

I straighten my shoulders subconsciously. "Some pain, but OK. I'm hungry."

He chuckles, and I clutch at the hem of my sweatshirt.

I suddenly want to see him.

Badly.

"There's food ready for you. Take your pick."

"Where?"

"Why don't you explore a bit?"

"You want a Hunter to roam around your house?"

"Why? Are you going to get me in trouble?" I can practically hear him smirking. "Sounds like a fun game."

I make an exasperated noise. "Right. I forgot you're almighty and have nothing to fear."

"Sounds like you're figuring it out," he says, ignoring my sarcasm. We chat for several minutes like this, and I'm shocked at how much I enjoy just talking with Sylus and poking fun at each other. I check the phone for the time, surprised to see that it's 4:00 AM.

"It's so early," I frown. "I'm never up this early."

"Go eat," he reminds me.

That's when I realize that I don't want to hang up the phone. I curl my finger around a lock of my hair nervously, feeling about as ridiculous as a high schooler talking to her first crush. I push away that thought.

"Sylus," I start, not really knowing what to say.

"I'll be back soon," comes his low soft promise. "Be a good girl and wait for me."

We hang up the call, and I stare at the phone for some time. I poke through the settings, frustrated when I see that I can only make outgoing calls to Sylus's number. My thoughts shift to Xavier. I hope he can wait just a little longer for me to reach out.

I begin exploring the house. It's much larger than I remember. With the ever present darkness, it's impossible to tell the time of day. It's like being trapped in a separate dimension. I go through several rooms, impressed by the walls and floors covered in exquisite black marble. When I make it to one particular set of doors, two shadowy figures jump out of nowhere to block my path. I stumble back, relieved when I recognize the strange masks and dark armor.

"Luke, Kieran," I breathe a sigh of relief.

"Oops. Did we scare you?" Luke asks, tilting his head.

"Can't go in here," Kieran says, folding his arms across his chest.

"Sylus didn't give me any restrictions," I protest jokingly. "But, honestly, I'm just looking for food."

As they guide me to the dining room, we share a few words. To my surprise, the twins are rather easy to talk to.

"Luke," I pause in my steps. One of the twins turns to look at me. "Were you alright? The LUMINIS didn't hurt you, did it?"

He taps the side of his face then steps closer to me. "Lady, you're kind of messed up in the head, huh?"

I blink up at him. "What do you mean?"

He makes an exaggerated hum, like he's thinking hard. "I'm not your buddy. I'm your warden. That question...It's kind of like a prisoner worrying about his jailer, isn't it?"

I'm still confused. "Prisoner?"

Suddenly Kieran laughs, clapping his hands together. "Aw, look. She doesn't know. Poor thing."

Luke shrugs. "She'll know soon enough."

"What are you two talking about?" I ask with a frown.

"Boss-man doesn't have guests," Kieran says. "If you're here, you're just a prisoner."

"Or a toy," Luke adds, holding up a finger. "Till the Boss gets bored. Then I guess he'll find something else to play with."

I wad a piece of my sweatshirt in my fist, really not knowing what to think of their discussion. I'm a prisoner? That doesn't seem right. Didn't Sylus bring me here to keep me safe while I heal? Am I really so naïve that I've completely misread his intentions? He hadn't tried to keep me anywhere against my will since the first time we met. I helped him when he needed me, as we agreed. In return, he helped me look for more information about the Aether Cores and those who may have killed my family.

Is it really that simple, though?

And how much did that one night of passion weigh against all these assumptions?

Since when was I so comfortable around Sylus?

Oh my god. Where has my mind been all this time?

I shiver, like someone dumped a bucket of cold water over my head. I look around again, and suddenly the beautiful black marble and gold-trimmed walls feel like a gilded cage rather than a home.

"Uh-oh," Kieran chimes. "Looks like we might have hurt her feelings."

"Just managing expectations," Luke waves his hands.

"I gotta say," Kieran continues, "you fight pretty good. Your aim needs work though."

"...aim?" I ask, my voice strained.

Kieran does a little twirl as he sidesteps around Luke to stand in front of me. He leans in, and I'm momentarily disoriented by his raven mask's red eyes. "You can't be stupid enough to think that shooting someone in the arm or in the foot will stop 'em from getting up and shooting you in the head, yeah?"

"She's not a killer, Kieran," Luke says.

"That's the problem, isn't it?" Kieran shrugs.

On my shoulder, Mephisto stirs and gives an angry squawk. He flutters his wings then settles down. While I'm trying to process all this, my stomach growls loudly.

"Let's get some chow," Kieran says. "Come on, Lady."

We walk to the dining room, and when I see the extravagant feast set up on the large table at the center, I momentarily forget my angst. All kinds of dishes greet my ravenous gaze. Roasted chicken with some kind of glaze, fish and seafood, several kind of soup, fruits that look fresher than any I've ever seen, and a side table with cheesecakes and yogurt parfaits. I lick my lips, my eyes gravitating towards the chicken and fruit.

I don't hesitate to dig in. Grabbing a plate - or two - I scoop up a little bit of everything to try. There's no disappointment on my end. Everything tastes like it came from a five star cookery. There's a pitcher with some kind of divinely flavored water; I down several glasses. I save the oranges - my favorite - for last. Breathing in their fragrance, I begin to peel a few, already anticipating how delicious they'll be.

Luke and Kieran grab some samples for themselves as well, chattering about topics I don't understand. I tune them out, but I am impressed at how in sync they are. Everything from their movements to the way they finish and start each other's sentences speaks volumes of how close they are. I've never seen them fight, but I imagine that they are quite a formidable force. They'd have to be, to serve Sylus as closely as they do. Unfortunately, it also means they likely know their Boss much better than I can hope to.

Their previous words sting as I munch on a few slices of oranges. I'm so entranced by the food that I hardly notice when the sound of footsteps begins to echo behind me. I glance up and see that Luke and Kieran have disappeared. With a ruffle of his wings, Mephisto takes flight from my shoulder to the back of the room.

I whirl around to see Sylus smirking as he looms in the doorway; Mephisto happily settles on his shoulder. Sylus is so tall that the top of his head almost touches the casing. Right away, his sheer presence winds up the coil of tension in my body. I don't know whether it's because I've Resonated with him so much, but it seems that lately I can always feel him when he's this close. That or I just need to break down and admit that the man is intimidating no matter what setting he's in.

He's wearing a black button up shirt and dark dress jeans that hug his hips and muscular thighs. A dark red jacket is draped over his shoulders, flowing behind him like a warrior's banner. The gun holster at his hip is empty, and his pointed black dress shoes look like they've got some dust on them. One hand rests in his pocket while the other strokes at his chin, his crimson eyes vivid and fierce. He's covered in red spatters and stains, but I can't see any wounds.

It's not my blood - his voice echoes in my mind from yesterday. Hollow and cold.

And yet, I'm not afraid.

"Sylus," I can't help the way my voice softens when I say his name. "You're back. Are you...hurt?"

He huffs and brushes his thumb against his cheek. Like a flickering illusion, all the blood turns into dust and evaporates in a crimson flash from his clothes and skin. My heart drums in my chest, and I don't understand the rush of emotions clamoring for attention within. Excitement? Intimidation? Yearning? Do I want to run? If so, do I want to run away from him or towards him?

He keeps staring at me until I want to squirm, but I will myself to keep my back straight. I've told him over and over I'm not a small animal that needs protection, and I don't want to renege on that assertion.

"Um," I swallow thickly as he takes a step towards me. I look towards the dining table, unable to maintain his predatory gaze. "This food is delicious."

Another step.

He raises his hand and snaps his fingers.

And then he's gone.

Mephisto flies to his golden perch in the corner of the room.

One second.

Two.

In a whoosh of blazing Evol and ruby mist, Sylus appears right behind me. Long arms emerge from the shadows to wrap around my waist. Even as I start to turn around, I'm pulled backwards against the length of him, his body heat encasing me like a stygian cloak. Long fingers caress my neck and guide me to move my head so that soft sensual lips can press against the pulse at my throat.

He smells like earthy smoke, fading ash, and the untamed wind. He smells like battle. I imagine him flying through the night on his motorcycle - powerful, free, untouchable. I wonder what dangers he faced last night and how he overcame them. I wonder if I'll always worry about him like this. There's really no need. I can't imagine there would ever be a situation he can't handle.

I lean into him. I really can't help myself. This man constantly throws me off kilter, and I have no hope of regaining my balance. All I can do is let him lead while I follow. Otherwise, I'll be so lost that I won't ever find my way. He makes me forget about the natural boundaries of the world I know; makes me unafraid at the prospect of stepping into the eclipse as long as I am by his side.

"Looks like you've made yourself right at home in the lion's den," he teases. His lips curve into a smile against my skin. I whimper when his palms snake up my sides and reach around to cup my breasts.

"...was hungry..." I breathe, closing my eyes against a rush of pleasure.

"I'm rather hungry myself," he purrs. "It's been a long night, and you look delicious." He traces my arm all the way from my shoulder to my wrist, sending bolts of electricity buzzing over my skin. Bringing my hand to his lips, he breathes in.

"You smell delicious too. Like oranges and spice..." Slowly, deliberately, his mouth wraps around my index finger.

"Mmn...Sylus..." I almost want to tell him to wait, to stop, that this is too much for me. But, his eyes bore into me, silencing my protests. I struggle to keep breathing. I know where this is going, but I'm still worried for him.

I bite my lip as he lifts me up just enough to rub my backside against his hips. The hardness there is a testament to the fact that he is very far from tired. His fingers mold into my belly, teasing me with controlled pressure in just the right spots while his tongue traces the sensitive grooves between the fingers on my hand.

"You just got back. Shouldn't you...mnn...rest?"

"Is that what you want me to do?" His tone is dangerous, like subdued thunder.

He pulls back from my hand, and I take a few breaths to recover. It's too late, though. The fire's been lit, and if I don't take it to conclusion I am going to be disappointed.

"Well?" he asks again.

I shake my head. "No..."

"Then," he presses his lips to my left ear and lets out a long hot breath. It tickles, but it also feels incredible. "What does my little kitten want?"

"Please...touch there..."

"Which part?" he asks, pressing himself into me while massaging my body. His tongue traces the shell of my ear, his mouth culminating its journey with a soft bite to my neck. I moan, unable to answer.

"Here?" He licks the spot he just bit, soothing the sting.

"Yes," I whine. "There..."

"And here?"

His hand slides past the waistband of my shorts, fingers inching slowly lower and lower. When he presses against my apex, I gasp and jerk away. My shoulder is starting to hurt, but I don't want Sylus to stop. The way he's grinding me against him is working me into a frenzy, and when his finger slips between my folds I can't help but dig my nails into his forearm. I pull my trembling fingers back, not wanting to hurt him.

"Harder," he growls. "Show me how good it feels."

A few strokes and I'm ready to do anything he tells me to. I move my hips against his hand, throwing my head back. "Nnn...ah....Sylus..." My whimpers turn needy as his finger slips inside me. He starts pumping it in and out, and my knees go weak. His sinewy arms keep me from falling, holding me so close that I can hear his every breath. I claw him harder like he asks, breaking skin and drawing blood.

"More...faster..." I beg him.

"As you wish." Another finger joins the first, stretching me open until I see stars. He increases his pace, curling, bending, reaching for something inside. Suddenly, I'm scared. The pleasure is building too fast. There's a pressure in my belly I can't understand. I gasp, trying to run from the feeling.

"Wait...no...too much..."

"First I'm too gentle, and now I'm too rough," he purrs. "You should make up your mind."

"Too much," I cry out. "Wait...Sylus..."

He chuckles. "No," he kisses the nape of my neck. "I don't think I will."

He keeps driving his fingers into my depths until he snags something inside. I jerk and shudder, and he knows he's found what he's been seeking. He focuses on it, then, despite me begging for his mercy. Again and again, he hits that spot inside me. I go numb one second; the next, everything feels too sharp and intense. I can't catch my breath. Harder and harder I claw at his arms, his clothes, his hand. My climax is like a riptide. My vision goes black as my whole body convulses in ecstasy. I scream out his name, and hot sticky fluids coat my shorts and Sylus's hand. I sag in his arms with a whimper, trembling all over. Without missing a beat, he lifts me into his powerful embrace.

Grabbing the collar of his shirt, I yank him down into a fiery kiss. Our tongues slip and slide together, and I lament how in control he is. Until, with a growl, he snaps. Leans down so my body is tilted, driving his tongue into my mouth until I can't take a breath. At last, when I start to see spots, he pulls back. My lips are throbbing, swollen, and sore. I'm dizzy with need, so aroused that I can hardly bear the ache between my legs. Resting my head against his chest, I wince as I try to find a position where my shoulder doesn't hurt.

"What is it?" he asks, all mirth suddenly gone from his voice. "Are you in pain?"

I find his eyes, still breathing raggedly, still trembling. I wonder if I am imagining the concern in his gaze. "I'm alright. Sylus, please don't stop."

I need more of him - his lips, his tongue, his fingers, and everything past that. I stare at his rugged features, mesmerized, then reach up to cup his face with both of my hands. He closes his eyes, leaning into my palm. This man. This beast. As I hold him, I can't fathom how I'm doing so. Embracing him is like holding a living flame. Too close and I'll get burned. Yet, I can't stop. Can't let go.

I cry out in surprise when he lifts me farther up his body, until I'm almost draped over his shoulder. It takes the friction away from my injuries, and our faces are nearly touching. Just like before in the hotel, gravity pulls us together until our foreheads press against one another. I forget all my doubts and fears when I spiral down into the wine of his eyes.

"Come, I'll take you to bed."

My fingers thread into his hair. I have no pride left. No dignity.

"Please," I implore. "Please, don't stop."

His eyes are my world, so I can't see his expression. But, I see the corners of those eyes crinkle in amusement.

"I didn't say I would stop. I'm just taking you to bed." He doesn't warn me this time. His Evol wraps around us, pulsing and flowing through me. The world spins, blurring into a watercolor painting. My body moves without my direction. I gasp at the feeling of a rapid rise and drop.

And then my back is cradled among silk sheets. One second I'm alone among a shower of falling black feathers, and the next Sylus appears from thin air, fitting against me as perfectly as one half of a whole. We kiss, and he's gentle this time. His hands continue what they started in the dining room. He positions himself between my legs and starts kissing downwards from my neck to my chest.

"Tell me," he murmurs with his head buried in my breasts. "Were you waiting anxiously for my return?"

My ears burn, and I shake my head.

"Tell the truth now." He draws my nipple into his mouth, and I pull at his hair.

"I wasn't," I insist, my thighs hugging his hips, pulling him against me. My shorts disappear in short order, his hand coming back to wring more cries of pleasure from me as he teases my clit.

"But, you want me now. Listen to your sweet little mewls, kitten. Your body is begging for me." Leaning over me, he pushes my legs up against my chest and thrusts his fingers even deeper inside me. I'm mortified. He can see everything from this angle, and my shyness momentarily overtakes my awareness. I try to hide my face with my hands, but he gently pulls them down.

"Don't hide your face from me," he commands. "Not ever."

I cry out in bliss as his fingers curl inside me. He starts up an erratic rhythm, and my head swims. As though from a distance, I hear my voice - moaning, whining, sobbing.

"Ah...wait...not so deep..."

He doesn't let me come even though I approach the edge several times. My eyes water with tears as pleasure and frustration washes over me.

"S-Sylus," I cry out. "Please...please..."

His tongue spirals into my belly button, and I buck my hips.

"Please let me come," I plead.

"So? Were you waiting for me or not?"

"I was!" I sob. "I...was..."

He hums in approval. "You're cute when you're honest."

His fingers stop moving. He pulls back and unbuttons his shirt. In the low light of the bedroom, his red eyes gleam with satisfaction. Shucking off his shirt and jacket, he leans over me. I lick my lips, my eyes devouring his athletic form, my arousal building and reaching a fever pitch. He frees his erection from his pants, and my mouth goes dry again. Without further conversation, he pushes my legs up even higher and slips inside me. I clutch at the bed sheets as I experience an earth-shattering orgasm.

It's not the last time. Sylus sets a steady rigorous pace, and I let myself float in a sea of new and incredible sensations. He takes me over and over until I'm a sweaty, shivering, and drooling mess, hitting me so deep inside that I can hardly breathe. My voice is hoarse, and I can't feel my fingers or my toes.

"No...Sylus...please," I whimper as he pulls me into his lap and slides to the edge of the bed. "I can't...I can't anymore-ah!" I throw my head back as he spears into me.

"We're not stopping yet," he says, his voice strained and breathy. "Not when you're squeezing me this hard." His hands settle on my hips, fingers digging into the flesh of my butt cheeks. I feel like I might faint when he starts to move, bouncing me up and down on his engorged cock until I come again and again. With a low growl of satisfaction, he reaches his own peak, filling my womb with his cum.

When I fall forward, he helps me wrap my arms around his shoulders. We sit like that for a while, regaining our bearings, sharing breaths and kisses. I love feeling him inside me; being joined with him. His hands stroke my hair and my back. I nuzzle into his neck, taking in his scent, memorizing it. Without pulling out of me, he leans back on the bed, letting me rest comfortably against him.

I steal a peek at his face. He fingers a lock of my hair, his expression thoughtful. When enough time passes, I gather my courage to speak.

"Sylus..."

"Hmm?"

"What are we doing? What is this?"

He doesn't answer, and I put my head back down against his chest. Maybe he doesn't know either. Putting a name to this is too complicated, after all.

"Ellara," he murmurs my name.

"Yes?"

"Things are about to escalate with Noxis."

I try to sit up, but Sylus holds me in place.

"You mean with LUMINIS?"

He pauses. "You're going to be hunted."

"I'm not afraid of them."

Another awkward silence as Sylus continues stroking my back.

"See that your courage doesn't turn into recklessness. I don't want a repeat of yesterday."

I nod.

"I've arranged for your knight to pick you up tomorrow at midnight."

Startled, I manage to sit so I can see his face. "Knight?"

He smirks. "The one you call your partner," he clarifies. "The one with the collar around his neck."

"Xavier?" My eyes go wide. "You called him?"

His fingers stroke my cheek. "If he's going to be of any use to you, I'm going to need to break that collar. Tomorrow, I'll do so."

I settle down against him when he pulls me forward, too exhausted to process everything he's saying. As he pets my hair, I start to drift off.

"Sylus, what am I to you?" I mumble, already half asleep. "Am I just a phase? A diversion?" 

He huffs. "Another incredible misunderstanding. Should I correct it this time?" 

My eyes close, his warmth too cozy and comforting for me to resist. "Mmm hmm..." 

"I'll tell you when you can hold a proper conversation," he chuckles, pulling a silk sheet over both of us. "The safest place for you is here, Ellara. But, I will not cage you. Do as you will for now. One day, you will choose to stand by my side."

[weirdcat1213]

Its time for the weekly horrors- I mean Trimax vol 3 >:3

The Thoughts:

chap 1:

-AH EVERYTHING IS FALLING

-bro you are about to get into a fight can you stop thinking about your bf for 5 minutes

-fr tho, vash's words making him hesitate/angry is so dcfgjhbkml

-why everyone wants my babygirl dead :c

-now now, comparing someone with their brother isnt a nice thing to do

-oh so now we're not even making an allegory, he actually called him jeesus

-also "your soul is forced to endure the sorrow by the hundreds, suffering by the thousands, and the rage by the hundreds of thousands" im gonna throw up cuz of how that GOOD and PAINFUL that shit is

-the polar opposite of being a human huh...i mean besides something i said weeks ago about how he's further away from humanity more than he would like that point is interesting cuz most of the time we call him someone who is more human than any other person. he carries more pain than any human could endure and definitely has more patience than anyone will ever have but...hm...i want to come back to this

-ww pls dont make me cry today pls honey

-oh im gonna cry

-"your ideals will join you in the grave" i fucking hate thats the reason why we all try to be better people, thanks to that fucking wet cat of a man i cannot deal actually

-MILLIE :D

chap 2:

-i dont have much to say about battles but let it be on the record that I'm enjoying ww's eyes sm

-oh page 38 is cool as hell

-OH SHIT IS THAT HIS FUCKING SPINE????

chap 3:

-ww stop having pretty eyes youre distracting

-meanwhile :3

-ah geesus the body horror (so good but creepy)

-EYES :D

-so many fucking details. nightow got down even the smallest scribbles, as 98 vash would say

-oh right that....thats still upsetting

-i fucking swear people need to leave my son alone

-also fucking hate that he had to SHOOT A BABY even if it was fake

-I FUCKING HATE THIS ACTUALLY

-i can feel his fucking mind breaking i cant do this

chap 4:

-"i cant do this" yet here i am lmao

-i think if vash held me like hes holding that girl a lot of my problems would be resolved ngl

-characters reciting names always get to me :c

-also HA EAT THE PTSD ASSHOLE

-"why are there so many" brad you may want to sit down for this one

-..................i deadass thought "oh the doctor is here" IVE READ THIS BEFORE AND I FELL FOR IT AGAIN

-vash with his hair down :3

-nah hes not gonna kill you BUT HE FUCKING SHOULD

-oh i will kill so many people (vash is bleeding)

-hm. this reminds me of something in houseki no kuni (i wont spoil but maybe ichikawa had trigun as inspo which would be cool af)

chap 5:

-oh im yeeting myself (ww thinks about the children) -ww gives in his anger and fear when punching those weirdass faces but I'm gonna say this once: that doesn't make him weaker or worst. i haven't seen anyone think that of ww, i just feel that when he compares himself to vash he feels that way and i cant stand it :)

-vash i fucking swear-

-oh god the fingers...the fucking fingers...

-oh you are NOT talking to my vash about pain and agony

-OH WAIT I FINALLY UNDERSTOOD THAT PANEL OH GOD NO I HATE REREADS WTF

-XD my girls

no wait i need to get back to that. i thought that was emilio's dad not fucking vash himself oh my god I'm sick so sick actually wtfffffffffffff

chap 6:

-is this the chapter with the gays eyes cuz I'm not ready for that-

-oh fuck you nightow. fuck you for putting knives in the title page and the title being "families"

-i want to punch so many things but I'm at work. fuck

-also i forgot about this stampede parallel GOD WHEN DOES MY SUFFERING END

-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO THE GAY EYESSSSSSS

-yeah i agree this is literally the moment. like fuck. fuck actually. fuck what else is there to say.

-fuck

-like hes so fucking terrified that he was afraid for him, what his journey is causing ww, but even if he wanted ww to stay away and safe he knows ww would say fuck off, but also vash would not be able to take it

-THERES SO MUCH FEAR AND LOVE IN THOSE EYES IM GONNA BITE MY HAND

-OH I CANT ACTUALLY WHY DOES THIS HURT SO MUCH WTF

-im so fucking upset cuz the last 3 chapters were basically fights. they were full of energy and shit but now that is over and they are in a rare moment of peace, and everything fucking hits.

-im gonna go outside and step into oncoming traffic

-YES LUIDA MY QUEEN SHUT HIM UP

-WOLFWOOD :D pls never leave me

-i....*implodes*

-i am nothing. i just remembered that.

-OH CMONNNNNN

chap 7

-maybe i dont want to read trimax anymore. maybe a little person like me isn't strong enough for a 2nd round of the pain. with that in mind, lets keep reading :D

-WHERES THE NIGHTOW PUNCHING BAG WHEN YOU NEED IT

-wolfwood what he is it doesnt matter i swear pls cant you just love him?

-:c

-i dont like vash being emotionally attached to stuff cuz that means i have to yell HES LIKE ME FR FR

-oh that....that beautiful panel...amazing

-i think my mind blocked this out because of the previous sad things that happened, so now my brain is allowing me to process more sad things :3

-"i still have so much i must do" and i see i still have many tears to cry out huh?

-ofc wolfwood would ask about redemption

-cant my man show an important part of his past and show vulnerability in front of his friends in peace? damn

-im gonna start bitting my glasses

-GAY MOMENT PART 2 INCOMING

-luida pls i want to stop crying

-oh wolfwood honey....you just fell so hard for my man didnt ya

-i just realized the chapter is called "life as a" and I THINK the idea is to complete it with "life as a 'vash the stampede'" cuz he's not human

OK GREAT NOW I CAN RUN TO THE WASHROOM AND FUCKING CRY :D

[katarikitten]

The head honcho is here! Chief makes his appearance! And a very different one compared to the Twins.

General Information/Equipment Information

Height: 6'5"

Rank: Captain

Specialties: Strategic planning, leading, and most oddly, piloting

Other Information:

The only Firehose variant able to speak verbally

He's got a slight English accent hiding under all the raspy airiness in his voice

He's a beach man, no mechanical bits and pieces are going to stop him from swimming

He has horrible dad jokes ready to share at any given moment

--------------------

Chief does not seem to use any combating equipment other than what the others hand to him, whether it be a fire ax or something else

He carries standard fire fighting equipment

Chief is not very verbal to newcomers at first and will speak in whatever language the Firehose variants speak in, but once he warms up to you then you'll hear him speak properly

.

.

.

.

.

.

Log 1, (11, 24, 1995):

"Alright. Is this thing on? Good."

There is a brief pause and someone can be heard taking a loud breath close to the recording device.

"This is... log one, which is something I'm going to start to keep track of [REDACTED]'s progress in his new body. Well, it's still his body, just some new additions and an entirely new head."

Another quick pause.

"I hate that they, we, had to do it to him. But it was for his own good, and for his team's good. Even if he's been telling us to just end him already, keeps saying that he had already died and that he had not intend to come back to keep helping, keeps saying that his time is already up and that he should be with his team now. But his team is dead, and they have been for a while. Except for two of them aside from him."

"The moment we brought up that two of his colleagues were okay he wanted to see them, see if what we were saying was true. The man can't even leave the bed on his own, can barely even sit up on his own on bay days. The fire really did a number on his body. Heck, it wasn't even the fire that did it directly!"

"He should be dead, we get that, and I'm probably going to keep repeating that frequently in these logs to keep reminding myself and whoever 's next in line to care for the cunt. But that's not what matters to some of the high ups, the high rank doctors and what not. No. What matters to them is that their procedure worked. They brought not one, but three, dead firefighters back from death and gave them new heads and then transferred nearly all of their memories and what not to a device that connected to their new heads before they were taken off anesthesia. And out of all the things to stick on a pipe and shove on their spine, they chose fire nozzles, fire hoses, whatever. These men aren't much of men anymore. At least not to me. Not in a dehumanizing way or anything but its weird walking in to check on [REDACTED] and I see a bronze fire nozzle looking right at me! Doesn't help that they have eyes either, creeps me out a bit when [REDACTED] stares too long."

A slow, almost saddened sigh comes from the person recording the audio.

"It's so hard to think about what they went through to even be here, they should be dead, letting their families and loved ones grieve them in open caskets, but they're not. Legally speaking, I think they've been announced dead, as well as seventeen other firefighters that lost their lives in the South Canyon Fire in July this year. But those other seventeen are truly dead, had their funerals and everything. These three had a closed casket funeral and their empty caskets were set in the ground alongside all the others, graves marked and everything."

"I don't think my mind is ever going to let go of how messed up and unethical it is. They worked on a man's dead corpse without his family's consent to anything. And this man was a firefighter! Working his ass off to protect us! And the head honchos let these things blow right over their heads!"

The person recording the audio can be heard standing up from what is presumably a chair before the sound of heels pacing can be heard in the background. This goes on for nearly a minute before the person reapproaches the recording device and seats themself again.

"They keep saying that they want to make a new generation of protectors. Robotic humans that can do better than we can, cyborgs at most. Robots that will fight our wars for us and heal our people for us, do all the things we can for us, better than us. And unfortunately, these three men were the unlucky souls that were first pick."

There is a pause that lasts approximately half a minute before the person continues.

"I think I'm going to end it here, I feel like I've just been rambling when this was supposed to be informational. This is Doctor Lorelai, ending the first log on the new program."

- End of log

--------------------

Sidenote: I was definitely inspired by Polaroid and his backstory (belongs to striderl, oops I'm too much of a wuss to actually ping them) by the end of coming up with/drawing Chief. He was just supposed to be an older Firehose variant with some slightly depressing backstory but I just took a darker, sadder turn on Chief's end once I had a few angsty moments to myself. (asks questions if you dare *steeples fingers* /j) (seriously tho, I am more than willing to spew lore if someone asks the right question)

Edit: Finally added scars to Chief's skin, gave my best interpretation of "dragged down a mountainside by a landslide"

[fluffyzoey]

Dentist Trip (Javey OneShot)

Trigger warnings: homophobia, dentist, bl**d, surgery, anastesia. None of this is violent it’s litertally about a trip to the dentist.

Also this one is in first person pov :0 

“Jack, if you record this, I’m lighting your hair on fire and shutting off the water.”

That was what Davey had told me as I drove him toward the dentist’s office to get his wisdom teeth out. I’d thankfully landed myself in a scenario where the wisdom teeth just fell in beside the rest of my pearly-whites, and therefore didn’t need them removed. My boyfriend, however, wasn’t so lucky. We’d had this scheduled for weeks now, and every day he’s reminded me of how much he was dreading it. And now, here he was, pouting in the front seat of my beat-up blue car.

“I won’t, Davey.” I assured him, chuckling a bit as I pressed down on the gas pedal. “Unless you say something really funny, of course…”

What we were of course talking about were those stupid videos of people saying dumb shit while out of it coming off anastesia. There was footage of people trying to eat their own fingers, convinced their friends and family were dogs, that kind of garbage. I’d joked that I was going to make one too. 

“I’m serious about the hair-on-fire thing.” He looked away from me, staring out the window. It was raining, which probably wasn’t doing much for his mood. 

“Sure, babe.” I took one hand off the wheel and patted his shoulder. He glared at me. 

“Hands at ten and two, Jack.” Davey grumbled. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you that?”

With a sigh, I placed my hand back on the wheel. Davey returned to hating his own existance for the time being, and I put my eyes back on the road. The office isn’t too far from home, only around a fifteen minute drive, so we should have been coming up on it soon. 

Sure enough, I laid eyes on it. A stout, navy-blue building with glass double doors adorned with a logo of a smiling tooth holding a tube of toothpaste. The rain continued to pound against the concrete of the parking lot, forming puddles in the ditches surrounding the area. I pulled into the nearest parking spot (an excellent parking job if I do say so myself) and looked over to Davey. His dread and anger seemed to have shifted to fear. I clasped my hand around his, unbuckling so I could reach him easier. I cupped Davey’s face in my free hand, taking in his features: those soft lips, those big blue eyes, and those thick, lovely curls. 

“It’s gonna be alright.” I whispered, and I could feel him nuzzling his face into my hand.  “It’ll all be over before you know it.” 

“Thanks, Jackie.” He whispered back, a shudder making its way down his spine. I nodded and pulled him in for a kiss—just a soft, gentle brush against his lips—and then opened my door, racing around to the other end to open Davey’s for him. He smiled a bit, stepping out and grabbing onto my hand. As we ran to the relief the small onning provided from the rain, I gave his hand a comforting squeeze.

I pulled open the door and held Davey’s hand all the way into the waiting room. I sat him down next to me on one of the little sofas they have in there, and he rested his head on my shoulder. 

This attracted some attention from the other clients. An older woman wrinkled her nose up in disgust, eyeing my boyfriend and I like we were particularly disgusting wads of gum she’d found stuck to her shoe. A guy about our age whispered something into his girlfriend’s ear, and she erupted into a fit of giggles.  A man actively turned his young son away so he was no longer facing us. 

I don’t know whether it was my close contact with Davey, my black-painted nails, or my pride-pin adorned vest that gave away that I was dating a dude, but I hated the fact that everyone else in that office seemed to be a conservative white person. The man with the kid in particular had an American flag tattooed across his right arm, a cross and the words ‘straight = great’ on his left. I wanted to drive my fist through the guy’s yellowing teeth, but also didn’t want to get up. The couch was rather comfortable. 

It didn’t matter, because before long Davey was called back anyway. He took a few shaky breaths and got up, his loving boyfriend (me) grasping his sweaty palm. 

The dental assistant, a young woman named Julia, brought us to one of the operative rooms. 

“Mr. Jacobs, you just sit down in the chair there. Mr. Kelly, you can sit on the stool in the corner for now, but we’ll need you to head back to the waiting room once we get the operation under way.” She explained. 

I looked into Davey’s eyes. He was clearly very tense. But I knew I couldn’t get in the way of the dentists and technicians, so I took my seat on the stool and watched as Julia placed the mask-like thing over my lover’s nose, the anastesia I presumed. After a few minutes his eyes were shut. 

“He won’t feel a thing, don’t worry.” Julia handed me a sheet of paper with information about the procedure. “He’ll probably be a little out of it when he wakes up, though.”

”I know,” I laughed. “Same thing happened last year, with my ex. I brought her here, same as I did for Davey.”

”Oh, yes!” Julia clapped her hands together. “Ms. Plumber! How’s she doing?”

”Well.” He informed her. “Got into her dream school, and she’s still writing. She’s trying to get published.”

”Always had big dreams, that one.” Julia nodded, turning her back to me and pulling on a pair of blue latex gloves. “You two were close for a long time.”

”Met in freshman year, yeah.” I said. “Best friends ever since. Our relationship just wasn’t meant to be romantic, I guess.” 

“And that’s okay! Seems like you’ve found someone perfect anyway.” She beamed, flicking her hand in Davey’s direction. 

“Yeah.” I sighed. “Been with him for nearly a year now.”

”Are you two hoping to tie the knot soon?” Julia examined her tools, basically paying me no mind. 

“Maybe, after we graduate this year.” I admitted. “I’d like to propose, but who knows if he’ll say yes or not.”

”Well, I wish you luck.” Julia smiled. “The dentist will be in shortly, you can head back to the waiting room, okay?” She pointed down the hallway. 

I stood up and before leaving, made my way to Davey, sound asleep. I brushed some of his chocolate brown curls out of his face and pressed my lips against his forehead. I swear I saw him smile a little bit in his unconsciousness. 

“It’ll be over before you know it.” I repeated, though I knew he wouldn’t be able to hear me. “I’ll be here to pick you up.” 

“Thanks for the speech, Mr. Kelly, but please head back out to the waiting room.” Julia tapped her foot impatiently as I retreated with a sigh. I passed lines of fake potted plants—not as pretty as the real ones my boyfriend somehow managed to keep alive back home—and paintings of smiling people holding toothbrushes, a huge chalkboard with ‘remember to floss!’ written in big block lettering, and a huge portrait of a young girl, toothbrush in hand like the others, all on my way back to the waiting room. I’d have loved to have paid attention to any of those things, I really would, but my mind was focused on Davey. 

I really wished they would have let me stay there with him, so I could be there when he woke up. I sat down on the same couch as before, looking over the paper Julia had given me. 

It said that the procedure would likely take a little over an hour. I crossed my legs, folding the paper in half and jamming it in my vest pocket and pulling out my phone. 

I scrolled through my messages—mostly spam—for a few minutes, quickly getting bored of that and clicking on one of my mobile app games. It entertained me for a while before I saw a message pop up on screen. 

A text from Sarah: ‘How’s my brother?’

I bit my bottom lip then released it, tapping out the message: ‘Okay I think’

’Is he asleep?’ She responded.

’Yep’

‘Oh good’

My nerves started to wash over me again. What if something went wrong and I never saw him again? That couldn’t happen, could it? No, it was impossible! Right? I felt a bead of sweat trickle down my forehead as I glanced around the room. The father and son had been called in, and the boyfriend and girlfriend were also nowhere to be seen, but the old lady was still glaring at me, her eyes narrowed in the direction of my pride pins—three of them. A simple bi flag, a rainbow flag, and a blue one with a pair of interlocking male gender symbols (⚣) with a heart around them. 

I couldn’t stand this place. I wanted to go home, but at this point it wouldn’t be worth it to drive all the way there and just turn back. The rain had ceased, I noticed, so I took a few steps outside and onto the onning. 

I pulled my phone out of my pocket again. There were a few more messages on it, all from Sarah.

’Is he out yet?’ 

‘Jack is he okay?’

I shuddered nervously and clicked the keys in response. ‘He’ll be another half hour, but he’s ok ig’

’Oh’

At this point, I didn’t want Sarah worrying. I put the phone to my left ear and called her, she picked up immediatly.

”He’s okay.” I started by saying. “I’m worried too, but he’s alright.”

Sarah let out a deep breath. “It’s a relief to hear you say it out loud.”

”I understand.” I muttered. “Thirty more minutes, I think. He’s doing great. He’s gonna be pretty out of it when he wakes up though.”

”Record him.” She chuckled. “He said some great stuff the last time he had something like this done.”

”There was a last time?” I grinned.

”He was nine. I doubt he remembers, but he talked about Cheetos for like an hour straight.”

”I cannot wait to tease him about that.” I joked. “But I promised him I wouldn’t record any of it. I think he’s worried I’ll show it to people.”

Sarah gave a hearty laugh ftom her end of the phone. “Alright, I’ll let you go now.”

”Thanks, Sarah.”

She hung up, and I was feeling a bit better. I leaned against the wall of the building, checking my phone for the time every few minutes. Once thirty minutes were up, I went back inside and found Julia waiting for me. 

“He’s all set. We’ve been done for a few minutes now, just giving him some time to wake up.” She explained. “He did great.”

I sighed with relief. “Can I go in and see him?”

”Follow me.” She directed me towards the room. 

Davey was sitting up in the chair, his eyes half-shut, his hair a mess, and his mouth swollen with gauze. He looked at me, and part of me thought he didn’t recognize me.

”You’re all set to go.” Julia announced. She turned to me. “Only soft foods for a while, okay? Take care of him, Jack, he’s basically your little baby for the next few days.”

”He’s always my little baby.” I blushed, helping Davey to his feet and holding onto his hand. Julia chuckled and led us both outside. Davey stumbled over his own feet most of the way, murmuring sleepily. 

Once I had him firmly seated and buckled in the front seat, I pulled out of the parking lot and took to the road. “How do you feel?”

”I love you.”

That wasn’t what I expected to hear. But sure enough, there he was, smiling like an idiot with the bloody gauze sticking out of the corners of his mouth. “Love you!” He repeated again, as if this were the funniest joke in the world. Then, he said something that sounded a lot like “Will you go out with me?”

I rolled my eyes teasingly. “Davey, I’m already taken!” I grinned. This caused a tear to start rolling down his cheek. “What?”

I realized what I’d done. “No no! Taken by you! We’re dating, remember? You’re my boyfriend!” I assured him, and his tears turned to laughter again. “I love you!” 

That conversation went on for a while: Me explaining that he and I were already together, and Davey following it up with ‘I love you’.

I wouldn’t have it any other way. 

He must have been pretty sleepy, because after only ten minutes of driving, he was sound asleep with his head resting on the closed window. The final five minutes of the drive home were just silence, punctuated only by the occasional snore. 

I pulled into our apartment complex’s parking lot, right in our assigned spot. The car lurched to a sudden stop and Davey was shaken awake. 

“Sorry about that, honey.” I whispered. “Now come on, let’s get you to bed.” He looked up to me sleepily. I opened the car door and scooted around in front to get to his. I helped him to his feet, keeping him steady where he stood in a puddle of water from the earlier rainstorm. 

“Think you can make it up five flights of stairs by yourself?” I asked, gently stroking my hand down his cheek. “No? It’s alright, we can take the elevator.”

Inside, I headed straight for the elevator, Davey by my side.  I pressed the button for floor 6 and help him inside. I held onto him the entire time, letting him use my shoulder as a pillow. We made it up to the sixth floor and down the hall to room 641. I slipped the key into the lock, turning it and listening to the pleasant clicking noise it made. 

“Come on.” I tugged him through the doorway and sat him down on our sofa, pulling a blanket over the both of us. He was sleeping again when my phone vibrated in my pocket. 

 Sarah again, I was sure. ‘Got him?’

’Yeah, we’re home. He’s sleeping’ I smiled as I typed out the message.

’What’d he say’

’Mostly he just told me he loved me, actually’ 

‘That’s so sweet’

I tucked it away again and helped my boyfriend into a more comfortable position, laying down beside him, holding him close.

”Today was kind of a disaster.” I murmured. “But you do look pretty adorable, so that makes it better.”

About a week after our disaster trip to the dentist, everything was going well. Davey was finally eating solid foods again (after quite a bit of whining and protests because that man has no pain tolerance) and had stopped complaining of his gums bothering him. I was just happy he wasn’t in pain any more as we sat together on the couch, watching late-night Wheel of Fortune reruns. 

“Hey, Jack?” Davey leaned over out of the blue. 

“Yeah, babe?”

”What sort of stuff did I say on the way home that day?” He asked, humor twinkling in his blue eyes. 

“You mostly just told me you loved me.” I smiled. “It was super cute. I mean, you’re always cute, but…” my voice trailed off. “You know what I mean.”

He chuckled and moved closer so our bodies were touching, Davey providing me with all of his comfort and warmth. “Yeah, I get it. I love you, Jack.”

”I love you too, Davey, and frankly, I’m just happy you didn’t set my hair on fire.”

[wehrwolf]

so this week I flew across the country by myself to see my favourite band in the entire world. practically nothing went amiss. I had random interactions with lovely people. my hobbling faith in humanity has straightened its spine a bit? I’ll be cringe about this below because I want to remember, let’s have some positivity for once.

I hate that I like nissan rogues, I know the transmissions are dogshit. rented one for a day to avoid dragging luggage all over hell’s creation. sound system fucked hard. LOUD paul barker. ate hella steak, eggs and pancakes at pancake chef near seatac. alright alright alright. 

killed time before hotel check-in, visited lakeview for brandon and bruce lee, ended up perusing the cemetery with a multi-talented guy from LA for about an hour swapping perspectives, observations on the human condition and tombstone critiques. glossy black crow perched on an equally inky granite headstone embellished with a huge cross - oh my goth, bro. eric, I’m sorry your cat died, you are rad and I will try to find your music online. be water, my friend.

the fashionable gentleman who checked me into the hotel was a sweetheart, down with skinny puppy, name dropped wax trax, awesome taste in rings.

dipped out for coffee, asked directions from coffee-holding stranger in glasses to make sure I was headed the right way. ran into him the next day in my new hoodie post gig, he mentioned how he used to work at a record store in edmonton, sold records to cEvin. what? insane.

seattle has too many hills, someone should do something about this. but very walkable. always move confidently with purpose, shoulders back, mean mug, look like you want to curb-stomp god. never appear lost.

found a 24 hr cafe near the kurt cobain twin tower / frasier obelisk that served a mean breakfast and was blasting tunes at 9:30am. several compliments on my filthy rat nest hair. what is this fever dream? unwashed hair is in. pancakes are my passion.

wandered to the paramount to get my bearings, saw justin by the tour bus and that metalworker ephraim dude’s sick rusted-out mad max’d honda cr-v. meandered around for the rest of the afternoon before skuppy-prep time. incredible roast beef horseradish sandwich. cool and good.

hung out in the GA line for a while, no VIP this time, wind picked up and it was pretty cold for a may evening. ended up next to a tough looking dude during the show, chatted a bit, he was a kmfdm roadie for a few tours. said his best puppy show was new orleans, I can only imagine. he reminded me of wez from the road warrior. thank you R for the gum, it gave me a second wind.

the paramount theatre is something out of a golden fairytale, gilded to the gills. generous stage for alien abuse. fantastic acoustics. reminds me of the hippodrome. I relished irving plaza’s intimacy but the paramount was my favourite venue.  

I will never tire of seeing lead into gold. soundtrack for slowly asphyxiating in a warm tar pit but make it erotic. thank you paul barker, long-legged light of our lives.

no surge/mosh at this show- if so, I didn’t notice. the energy was on point. denver had some choice dumbasses in the crowd, no such issue here.   seattle mirrored silver spring imo, excellent all around.  I made a brief, wonky post touching on this but in denver ogre was still obviously uncomfortable. that made me feel fucked up... and quiet afterwards.  this time around he seemed in great spirits, tons of energy, spinning the mic around a bunch, writhing all over the place to thwart tormentor!dustin (our boy is flexible). everyone was going wild, we all yelled ourselves hoarse. got to use their A setup with the big projection sheet. justin and cEv on risers.

side note: big love to matthew for his crowd engagement and bubbly enthusiasm this entire tour. honestly he comes off as just a literal cinnamon roll of a guy and the tour diaries have been a real treat. at the end he reflected on otherness and a need to be kind to one another in an unkind world, which really oddly summed up my seattle adventure... and the general vibe of skinny puppy’s unique fans (as others have mentioned here far more eloquently).

also real talk does ogre do belly dancing or something BECAUSE jesus fucking christ man he makes my mind literally fucking blank with all that fluid gyration absolutely knuckle dragging cave woman looney toons wolf beating the shit out of itself with a hammer feral. he knows what he’s doing too, god bless him. there were gals behind me that just started SHRIEKING like it was beatlemania, fucking ogremania with every slutty little hip movement (”go daddy gooo”). also like... cock grabbing causing me irreparable brain damage. then he legit straight up purposefully spit/drooled and it was just... super hOrny NOT like... mouth trauma symptom salivation (I hope? oh god.) his spit makes me insane. ok.

this was the first time I had the pleasure of hearing god’s gift (maggot). we were graced with smothered hope at earlier shows... so I think I basically experienced everything الحمد لله رب العالمين screaming. they ended with candle again, huge plus. ogre practically pranced off the stage after the encore. everyone came back out together for a heartfelt round of goodbyes. no concerts have moved me like these puppy gigs. I am so thankful, down to the marrow. there are probably other details but I have slept ~two hours in the past 48 so...   ✌️👽

[chronictoxicity]

Hey.

It's been a while and now Im starting to lay down all my unwritten sentiments ... I have always thought of going back to journaling recently and it just so happened that the worst time have been surpassed. I am at peace.. and now, I write.

My head has been a mess these days. I can't really figure out a way to organize my thoughts. Im kinda in a cognitive limbo I suppose. And for some reason, this phenomenon always happens when its that time of the year to get a year older.. So for the record, I just battled a sort of  intent to make a career upgrade. Which I didn’t make by the way. That’s the thing with failure. It kinda gives you a jolt to your spine. Waking you up from the reality. I haven't had that in a while. or should I say, I needed that at this part of my life. 

The thing with grieving is..(well yes, I considered it grief since a part of me was somewhat taken because of the circumstances), it changes a part of you. I dunno.. for some reason. I hate to be sentimental about it but I think I don’t really have a lot in my life right now, so I really do keep in my personal space whatever I have. Be it dreams, family, love.. of any genre as long as its mine. 

I know it's my fault. I haven’t taken it seriously. Joking about it but knowing at the backend that failure is on the verge of coming. Denying reality I guess. 

Lesson number one: If you want something, do it with every force and energy that you have. Don’t be lukewarm sentimental about it. Do it even if you have to fight againts the Gods.

I had to learn it the hard way I guess.

I’m warming up right now and I’m glad I had the perfect moment to write.

I always thought of writing as a Time Machine. recollecting my thoughts and making it tangible in the present.  A time capsule which I could read through and remind me of a certain chapter in my life. 

I’m still thankful. Though, I came to know how people differ on how they react on failure. Mine. Per se. 

But come to think of it, at the end of the day, nothing else matters except for that goal. It hurt me a lot. Yes. but I still have a chance to take it with me. To hold it in my hand. To celebrate with my family and make myself proud again.

Sometimes, when you get a wake up call from reality, It would mean you get to be more mindful of your old reality. It's a humbling experience that pulls you to the ground but not to a point of decline. It just prepares you for what is yet to come. I hate to be cynical about it but these thoughts are helpful for me to get through it all over gain.  

But I guess that’s the thing with life. That’s why it's called a battlefield. It just hones you one trial at a time or in simpler means, like a computer game that levels up your charcterter to be fit for the next stage. You can’t be level 1 forever, at some point, you have to deal with the big boss for you to know what it is like on level 2. Even if you loose a lot of lives in the process, the win would always be incomparable. 

See you at the next level Kid.

[angelamajiki]

PARINGS: Shouta Aizawa x Reader

CW: yandere, stalking, rape/noncon, pain kink, pain play, mild scent kink, home invasion, gags, restraints, virginity kink, scumbag aizawa, pet play, humiliation, cum stuffing, fingerings, snowballing, voice kink

SYNOPSIS: You have been calling the same phone sex operator for months, creating stalker and CNC fantasies. What happens when he rings true to his words?

AN: this is very dark, be warned! just had to make a fic out of the little idea I had <3

It’s always you who requests him. He can tell you're a virgin, the way your voice wavers when you feel like responding to him. Sometimes you don’t, letting your breathy moans do the talking for you.

“Good little girl.”

“Getting off to a phone call from your stalker? What a whore.”

“Cum for me, pretty girl.”

”Do you like that, pretty little kitty?”

He never had a knack for giving nicknames, but he had to make it known that he remembers you. Remembers that voice. Hopefully, he’ll be able to remember your body one day.

Tracking you down was easy enough; you didn't bother to block your number and public records was just calling his name. God did he love untouched girls like yourself. So wet and pliant, so easily manipulated, so naive to believe everyone had good intentions.

Cameras were placed around your house so he could watch you when he couldn't hear you. If it was a stalker you wanted, he was going to give it to you.

You called often and asked for him always—such an obedient girl. The live feed from your bedroom streamed in front of him whenever you rang, but he was tired of playing games this week.

“Just look at the way you’re kneading yourself; you like to tease yourself. Don't you, kitty?”

Your breath hitched, but he knew it wasn't from pleasure. Looking around, he chuckled at your confused expression.

“You got a real cute face, you know that kitty? I can't wait to fuck it one day.”

Be rational, you told yourself. Its all part of the fantasy, right? He can’t actually see you.

“That’s a cute bed spread you got there, I didn’t take you for the type who liked lilies. You always keep roses in your kitchen vase.”

Okay, he was definitely listening to you now.

“Say, you live on 14th Street, don't you? Why don't I come down and give you an in person session?”

“What do you say, kitty? Or should I just break in like I always tell you I would?”

The phone hung up after that comment. Sure, you were up to the fantasy of being stalked and raped; that’s why you called him. It was too embarrassing to tell a partner your fantasies, not like you had one. Or roommates for that matter.

His voice is what soothed you after a hard day, but now it kept ringing in your ears. Listening to his breathy chuckles sent shivers down your spine, but you never expected to feel them there.

Three raps came from your bedroom door before it opened. You were buried in your sheets, hopelessly, desperately attempting to be asleep. Like that would stop him.

“I know you're awake.”

An “ah” of realization came from him.

“Unless you sleeping peacefully is part of the fantasy. This is new, but I can indulge you in that kitty.”

The bed dipped and creaked with his weight, fear sinking into your heart further as a hand smoothed itself over your shoulders.

“So tense.” He tutted. “I’ve got something that can help you relax.”

His tongue lapped at the outer shell of your ear; arm slung over your blanketed body.

“Such a naughty girl. Tell me, how many times did you get off to the sound of my voice telling you I was going to take your virginity by force.”

A hand snaked its way up to your throat, squeezing gently enough not to cause pain but enough to cut off part of your air.

“Tell me you want me to rape you, here and now. Or I’ll take you out to the alley and make a display of it.”

His voice barely reached above of a whisper the entire time, the same soft sound he used over the phone. Hot breaths tickled your ear and neck as you squirmed, gasping at straws for air.

“I promise to be gentle; I know you like a tender man who takes what he wants.”

Your throat restricted even more under the hand to the point where you felt light-headed.

“Please!” You gasped, using your nails to scratch at his wrapped fingers. The pressure withdrew.

“Please what, kitty? C’mon, you can do it.”

“P-Please rape me.”

A sharp laugh came from behind you.

“Is that any way to address me? I thought we were using special nicknames here.”

He let you have your moment, apparently amused to see you choke for air as he stroked your back.

“Please rape me...sir.”

“Atta girl.”

The hand made its way back to your throat, only resting there as the thumb stroked over your tender flesh. The other one snuck under the blanket and groped at your chest.

“You're a virgin, aren't you, kitty? Don't worry; your owner is going to talk you through it. Nice and slow so you feel everything I'm giving you.”

Fingers wiggled their way under your bra and began pinching at your nipples, tugging and pulling at the hardening nubs.

“Stop squirming, or I’ll have to tie you up. You'll get your treat soon enough, kitty.”

You yelped after a particularly rough tug, tears springing in your eyes. His one hand managed to rip your bra apart, giving better access to his perverted fingers.

“I know you like it, the way I knead your pretty little breasts. Come, take your clothes off. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Everything came off before he instructed you to stand at the edge of the bed for him. He circled you like a predator, making inspections.

“I have to make sure my kitty is well-groomed and taking care of herself.”

The weight of his hot breath on your skin weighed down on you, pulling you further under his spell. He lifted your arms and smelled your scent.

“Lavender deodorant? What a shame; I wished I could have smelled your natural musk.”

Humiliation flushed your face hot. Disgusting pervert, it seemed he was into everything as long as it wasn't consensual.

“Sit down on the bed, legs spread.”

The baritone of his voice shook you to your core, but not in the pleasurable way you're used to.

“Don't make me ask twice, pet.”

His command was hard to ignore after following them for such a long time; it was practically instinctual to do as you were told. Shaking legs spread as you turned your head to the side. Another tut rolled off his tongue as he gripped your cheeks with one hand.

“Don't turn away from me. I want to see the look in yours when I take you and make you mine.”

You hadn't even realized before that he had brought a bag with him. From it, he took a bar spreader, rope, and a spider gag, all of which he put on you. The gag made your mouth uncomfortably wide, leaving nothing to his imagination.

Rough fingers pull you tongue from your mouth, his own coming down to lick at before spitting down the back of your throat.

“Swallow.”

You did.

“Good kitty.”

The name didn't comfort you anymore. Nothing about him comforted you anymore. Not his voice, not his nickname, and certainly not his breath, which you felt like was burning all over your body.

“I’m going to be nice and leave your throat alone today. However, if I give you a treat, you will swallow it. Do I make myself clear?”

You nodded, terrified at the notion that he intended to come back after tonight. Crouching down in front of you, he inspected your wet pussy before spitting on it as well. Gingerly moving your lips, he circled your tight hole and stood up.

“That should do.”

Watching him undress himself seemed to make time move slower, knowing that he was about to take your virginity within minutes. His hard cock sprung out from his boxers and hit his happy trail, bobbing slightly against his abs. Not only was this man toned, but he was also huge.

“In we go, kitty.”

Not even taking the courtesy to gather some slick from you, he pushed in, taking his sweet time as he locked eyes with you. He went agonizing slow, grinning as you wailed in pain.

“Hurts, doesn't it? Let's see how painful we can make this.”

You were hardly prepped, only having wetness left behind from your previous phone call. It stung, and it stung bad. Your eyes wept as you looked up at him with a pleading gaze, hoping he would take mercy on you. He did no such thing, pinching your clit between his fingers and rolling it with intense pressure. Moaning, he watched as you convulsed and twitched in pain beneath him.

“Being such a good girl for me, kitty.”

Another glob of spit landed in the back of your throat, making you gasp and choke on your sobs. He loved that you were an ugly, messy crier. It only served to make his dick harder.

Once he bottomed out, he stayed there for a while, letting you feel the fullness of his thick cock.

“The name’s Shouta, by the way. I'm sure you must have been curious.”

He spoke so casually, so calmly. It made you furious how collected he was while you were a whimpering, sniffling mess.

“Don't worry; we’ll have all the time in the world once we’re done to get to know me.”

Goddamn, that voice. That hypnotizing, nauseating voice. It's the reason you're stuck here underneath a fucking phone sex operator that turned out to be your stalker. What a mess.

A tap to the temple pulled you back to the present.

“Keep your focus here, kitty.”

Hips drew back and snapped into you, not letting you take a moment to adjust as he set a brutal speed.

Oh, how you wished you could leave your body, but if anything, your senses were all the more enhanced, taking in every last drop of your surroundings. The sounds of the bed creaking under his pounding, his grunts and breaths, the skin slapping against skin, your own cries of misery. The feeling of his breath, how your once silk sheets now felt like sandpaper across your skin, the metal of your binds, and the burn of your rope. Everything and nothing all at once.

The minutes seemed to draw themselves out into hours as he continued his assault. He, or Shouta, you supposed, wasn't lasting very long. It didn't suit him; he seemed like a man of stamina. Maybe it was because he played out a sick fantasy of his that made him cum in minutes.

Unprotected, he came deep inside you before sliding out, giving your pussy a slap as he made his exit.

“Such a tight little kitty you've got there.”

Fingers at the ready, he stuffed his cum back inside you, toying with your clit all the while. He was quick to make you cum, making you see stars at the intensity of your orgasm.

“Don’t worry; I'll make you cum on my cock next time. I have plenty of games planned for us when I take you home.”

Pulling his fingers out, he pushed them down your throat to clean them before getting up and dressed again. He left you there, tied up and gone without a word.

In reality, he was just getting his car ready for you, but who was he to deny himself the pleasure of seeing your panicked face when he came back?

You were going to make a fine pet for him.

[gyllenhaalstories]

CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS — SUGAR DADDY!ZEMO

summary: a series of unfortunate (or fortunate, depending whose side you’re on) events brought you to mandripoor seven years ago. it was fun, dangerous and exciting for the most part. a lot has changed, but you are back in high town in the hope of purchasing a rare monet painting, and reuniting with an old flame.

warnings: tfatws spoilers, alcohol, established sugar daddy x sugar baby relationship, smut (daddy kink, dom/sub/switch dynamics, choking, hair pulling, blowjob, fingering, both degradation and praise kinks, spit kink, cum play, marking, unprotected sex). 18+ MINORS DON’T INTERACT.

word count: 2685

gif credit: pedropcl

notes: this (very long) fic is brought to you by zemo’s #1 hoe. for the sake of the fic, zemo’s daughter and wife have never existed. i get it zemo is the bad guy daniel is not your typical hottie but let me live my fantasy and reclaim my crown as the original zemo fan. listen to off to the races by lana del rey and let no man steal your thyme by the pentangle if you want to fibe with me! i hope you guys will enjoy it!!! <3

“If you keep staring at me like this, I’ll mistake you for the Mona Lisa.” You took the last sip from your glass, which was immediately filled by the man standing behind you. You had felt his familiar presence a long time ago, but you were too mesmerized by the rare painting trapped in a cage of glass to bother notifying him. “Your glance has followed me around the room. In other circumstances, I’d find it creepy. Now, it’s just very flattering.”

You heard him laugh through his nose. You saw his reflecting in the glass, lit up by flashing blue and pink lights and vibrating ever so slightly to the sound of the loud music.

“You’re like a Monet painting. From afar, you are clear as cristal and easy to read like an open book. From up close...” You marked a pause and stoodby straight. Your eyes never leaving the work of art you had been scrutinizing for the past hour. Water Lilies in Bloom, it was called, an incorrect translation that always brought a grin to your lips. “You are a mystery.” You swallowed thickly the bubbly liquid, recognizing the peculiar taste of champagne.

“It is arrogant but right to think of myself as the pure definition of mysterious.”

You chuckled, throwing your head back in disbelief. Some things never changed.

“After all these years... I managed to find my way back to you. Now that’s a mystery.”

You turned on your heels as you spoke. “Is it, though? Tell me, Daddy. Is it really that hard to believe you’d recognize your property even after all these years. I heard they put you in a pretty little cage. Didn’t have much else to think about than what you missed most?”

He took you in, just how ethereal you looked under the colourful neon lights. You had your arms pressed against your chest, the shiny material of your matching bracelet and necklace twinkled. He squinted slightly, his lips curled into a smirk while he looked down your body, the one thing that kept him sane after all these years in jail (that and the thought of destroying symbols like super soldiers and make the world a better place once and for all). “Nice dress.”

“My Sugar Daddy got it for me.” You did a twirl, showing off your outfit innocently. “You like it?”

He reached up to his neck and pulled on the collar of his purple sweater, like it was a tie he could loosen up. “So you received everything I sent you.”

You clicked your tongue. “Not everything...” Your head turned to look behind you, where your most priced possession was glowing in its full glory — soon to-be yours, you should say.

“Use your words, Princess. Say it and it’s yours.”

It was your turn to analyze him, to take every ounce of cockiness and pride. “You’re playing with fire.” You walked closer to him, erasing the distance but increasing the tension between the two of you. “All the money in the world won’t get you everything you want.”

He was quick to move, his soldiers instincts never left his body, clearly. His delicate hand wrapped around your throat so effortlessly. It tightened, forcing you to manage your breathing. “Money got me everything I wanted already.”

“What is it, Daddy? What is it that you want so badly?” You clenched your jaw, holding his glance which was filled with lust, instead of rage and grudges.

“You never looked so beautiful.” He leaned closer too, whispering the words to your ear. It was liked the loud club music turned into white noise. He could not care less about the stares and the words strangers exchanged as they witnessed the scene. High Town was not his playground.

But you were his plaything.

*~*~*

History repeated itself, in one way or another. Icons rose and fell. Symbols mattered and vanished into oblivion. Originality turned into plagiarism. Winners would lose it all, losers would dig their graves deeper into the abyss.

History repeated itself. The sight before your eyes was the same one as seven years ago, when all that was on this man’s life before meeting you was this stupid Mission Report of December 16 1991. You met him at a party like this, in High Town before he was banned from the land. He caught your attention doing his ridiculous dance moves, sharing his knowledge about the art pieces showcased around the room. Then he brought you to a hotel, the ones so fancy they had multiple rooms and a vintage record player as part of the decor. Only, it worked, and he put on his favourite Édith Piaf records. Rien de Rien, Le Petit Homme, La Vie en Rose, song after song, you were diving deeper in your memories.. He was popping yet another bottle of champagne open and pouring some in flutes you would never touch for the rest of the night. The same night, seven years ago, it changed your life. At the second you regretted setting foot in Mandripoor, he changed your mind and gave you the best months of your life. You would ride around Europe in vintage cars, dine in gigantic mansions you called castles. You admired the old paintings of his royal family members while he brought you a silk bathrobe to change into after a steamy shower.

You’d get lost in your thoughts, he’d get lost in his ambitions. You two were one and the same, in one way or another. That affirmation sent shivers down your spine. You could not tell if it was a good or a bad thing, a shy voice in your head was reassuring you it was the former.

“They call me Baron again, I guess I’m not doing too bad after all.” His voice snapped you back to reality. He was still wearing that obnoxious trench coat. You hated it, it made him look like a pimp. Although that was not too far from the truth, as the mountain of luxurious jewelry and clothes in your closet proved.

“Do you like being back here?”

“I love it here.” The emphasis on the last word was audible. You nodded in agreement. This place was heaven on Earth for some people, hell for others. For both you and Zemo, it was somewhere in between.

“You’re certainly not here for me.” You laughed, setting the still full glass on the nightstand.

He shook his head, mouthing a negative response.

“What is it, this time? Mission report February 32?”

“Something like that.” He answered, after another silent laugh.

“If only you had made me your mission, your life would have been easier.”

“Yours would have been, too.”

You shrugged. You agreed, but you did not need to say it. He knew. The two of you knew that this warmth washing over your bodies was the answer to all of your problems. Yet, you were fighting the urge to surrender and give in.

History always repeated itself.

All it took was for him to set his hand on your exposed knee. You got flashbacks of the numerous times his hand rested there while you two drove deeper in the country side, in some old Chevrolet, Ford, or any other European brands he could find and buy.

“Say it, Princess. Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

You swallowed thickly and fell on your knees. He sat straight, as straight as he could on the comfortable mattress, and spread his legs wider. “I want to go back in time.”

He leaned foward and you opened your mouth, your tongue poking out. He spit in your mouth, and you swallowed. The giggle that followed your actions sent blood to his hardening cock. “Just as eager as I remembered, right? You’d do anything to please me.”

“I’d do anything for you, Daddy.” You repeated, the confession left you breathless.

“That’s my good girl.” He brushed your hair with so much tenderness for a moment, you let out a content moan. He changed the mood real quick when he pushed your head closer to his crotch and unbuckled his belt at lightning’s speed.

Your mouth was watering at the sight, a sight that was tattooed in your memory forever. Whatever relationship you two had went beyond fancy presents and sex, it was a connection that tickled your souls and left you a different woman than when it first started. You wasted no time, stroking him a few times as you spit on his blushing tip. You smeared the spit over his sensitive spot and pulled the sweetest moans out of him, which grew louder and more intense when you finally wrapped your lips around his head.

No one compared to you, to your attention to details, to the way you were taking him all in, inches by inches like you were made for his cock and his cock only. No one compared to how blissful you looked pulling back, choking on your own saliva and the lack of oxygen. “You look so beautiful, Babygirl.”

His praise made you bat your eyes, hoping to receive more compliments. You flattened your tongue, licking him from the base to the top before you deep throated his cock again. You never left him untouched, your hands were massaging his walls or exploring his thick thighs while your mouth almost brought him to the edge.

That was when he pulled on your hair and demanded you went back up on your feet. “I bet you’re soaked. All you need is to see a cock to wet your panties.” You nodded as one hand reached up to cup your face, the other to cup your core from under your dress. He could felt the ever growing wet patch. He discarded of your panties in one effortless pull and pressed his pointer and middle fingers against your sensitive clit. He circled it, studying your reaction.

“Daddy...” You breathed out. “I need you.”

“I’m proud of you for using your words,” his finger slipped inside of your entrance, you moaned out his name. “So greedy and needy and easy for me, like the good whore that you are. Is that right? You’re Daddy’s perfect little whore?”

He was two fingers in, all the way to the last knuckles. He pumped in and out of you slowly yet roughly. You smirked when he finally touched that spongy spot inside of you. “I’m Daddy’s. I’ll always belong to Daddy.”

“That’s right.”

He brushed his thumb over your clit, his fingers stopped fucking your hole to abuse the bundle of nerves until tears started to pool in your eyes.

“Be a good baby.” You looked at him with doe eyes, sucking his thumb between your plump lips. “Do what I want.”

And you reached your high. You had nothing to hold you up, except for your shaky legs that threatened to give in under your weight and the intensity of your orgasm. You sucked on his thumb harder, hoping to quiet some of your moans but your screams escaped your parted lips.

In a blink of an eye, you were pushed against the bed and bounced against the body that blocked your every movement. His pants were nowhere to be found, just like the rest of your respective clothes. Your finger tips brushed over the skin of his shaven cheeks, down to his neck and chest. The intimacy, you had craved it all these years.

“I bet that sweet cunt of yours missed my cock.” He spoke, chuckling mockingly when he pushed himself in your stretched hole. You both let out a long moan of satisfaction. He rested inside of you, adjusting to your warmth and tightness. “I was right.”

“You’re always right.” You flattered his ego, and earned a sloppy kiss in return.

His lips moved down to your neck where he sucked hickeys and left small bite marks as he picked up the pace of his hips.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, hoping to bring him that much closer, and deeper, into you.

Zemo pinned your wrists above your head and pumped his cock inside of your tight pussy like his life depended on it. “So fucking wet for me,  gonna make me cum, Baby.” He had tried so hard to hold back, not to mark you and claim you again.

“Wait for me.” You begged him, and he brought one hand down to your neck again. He squeezed it, choking you deliciously until your eyes rolled inwards. He tightened his grip ever so slightly and he felt it, he felt the way your walls fluttered around him.

He thrusted inside of you, his hips snapped against yours and the sound of your skin slapping echoed in the bedroom. “Cum for me, Princess. Cum with Daddy.”

And you did, your body exploded in fireworks when you felt his release planted inside of you. He kept moving, rocking back and forth. He leaned back, leaving your neck to rub your clit once again. He was a moaning mess, the overstimulation made it almost painful to keep going but he did not want it to stop, not until...

“Fuck, Daddy!” And a second wave of pleasure hit you hard, it left you panting and shaking even more than before.

Zemo had to pull away quickly, and already missed the feeling of being inside of you.

Your fingers reached between your bodies, dipping into your folds and moving up to your lips as they were covered in his seed. You painted your lips with his white cum, before you licked them and your fingers clean as he watched, completely amazed and mesmerized. “Taste just as good as I remembered.”

He laughed, he was always one step ahead of everything and everyone, but you always managed to take him by surprise. You were just that great, that perfect. He rolled to the side and fell heavily on the bed. His skin was glistening under the light of the chandeliers from the thin layer of sweat.

You pressed your legs together, clenching around nothing. You hoped you could keep his load inside of you, as a proof this had really happened and it was not just one of your daydreams where you two would be reunited.

“I missed this.” You boke the silence with a small voice. Your fingers brushed over the bruises on your neck, and you hissed at the sensitive skin.

He turned on his side, worried for a second that he went too hard on you. The smile and joy on your face proved him otherwise. “I missed you, Princess.”

“I missed you so much, Daddy.”

*~*~*

The sun hurt your eyes, he noticed. He slipped out of the bed to pull on the curtains only to hurry back to you so you could lay your head on his chest. You were still wearing your bracelet, he started playing with it.

His mind was racing, just like his heart. You could feel it rumble in his chest like a loud engine. Something was bothering him.

“Oh, Zemo...” You caressed his cheek, looking up to study his features. “You can fool the smartest people in the world, but you’ll never be able to lie to me.”

“I’m coming home, Baby. I’m coming home now.”

You looked down again, taking a moment to answer. “Let me guess, you’ll take me to a fancy house like Rebecca’s Manderley and Jane Eyre’s manor at the Rochester’s. You’ll show me around, make me feel like I belong. And you’ll leave, high and dry. Again. All the money and presents from your people won’t erase the pain I felt. Not this time, not ever.”

He pressed his thin lips together. Pain, suffering, he was used to it. He had his fair share of it, caused even more to other people. The thought of hurting you, however, was unbearable.

“Every kingdom needs its king...” He paused and moved you, so you were resting on your elbows and your face was closer to his. “And an even greater queen.”

[dreamerstreamer]

Devil-May-Care

Pairing: demon!Dream / Clay x demon hunter!gn!reader

Summary: [Demon Hunter!AU] When you went in search of the most powerful demon known to mankind, you didn’t expect him to be so charming.

Warnings: a little horror + some violence + tw// weapons (crossbow, gun)

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: this was requested by a passionate anon! i fell in love with the request at first sight and had loads of fun writing this, although i did take some creative liberty with it. i hope you all enjoy :)

You huffed as you pushed past the branch hanging in your face, wrinkling your nose as you trudged onward. The forest was almost eerily silent around you, the pitch black night doing nothing to ease the tension that had gathered in your shoulders. Above you, the moon and stars twinkled soundlessly, peering down at you with wide, watching eyes.

Where could he possibly be hiding? you thought to yourself with a grimace. Is he even in this forest?

Your mentor had told you that this forest was the last place he’d ever been seen, and that it would be your best bet. But she also told you not to get your hopes too high, since he was known to be a trickster who never stayed in one spot for too long.

You sighed as you stepped over a fallen log, making sure not to trip. Despite how young the night was, you were already getting tired. Tracking was arguably the hardest part of your job, and easily your least favourite part of it.

Then again, no one said being a demon hunter was easy.

With a slight grumble, you squinted through the darkness while walking past another tree. So far, all you’d seen was tree after after tree, and you were getting fed up. Heck, you could have sworn there was a clearing just ahead of you here.

It was at that moment that the trees suddenly parted before you, and you found yourself standing in the middle of a clearing. The soft grass rustled beneath your feet as you took a tentative step forward, your ears perking up for any noise or movement. When nothing came, the muscles in your legs tensed.

This was the first clearing you had found in hours, and something about it just felt off.

“What are you looking for, little hunter?”

You whirled at the sound of the low, curling voice, your gaze frantically darting around the darkness for its source. You kept your lips pursed as your head whipped this way and that, nothing but silence filling the forest air. Even with the light of the moon, all you could make out between the shadows were the silhouettes of trees and their taunting branches looming over you.

There was no way it was who you thought it was... right?

“Not gonna say anything? Hm. Perhaps that’s just because you can’t see me. Here.”

You heard the snap of a finger, and the clearing around you suddenly lit up in a faint, greenish hue. Your eyes widened as the earth you stood upon began to glow, your fingers twitching at your side. Turning again, you quickly searched your surroundings once more for the voice’s owner. Everything seemed to be exactly how it appeared when you first arrived—the trees were just trees and the grass was just grass, even if they were both admittedly glowing.

Just then, there came a whistle from above you.

You lifted your head, and your gaze fell upon a figure sitting atop a tree branch a few feet away. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight.

Piercing, emerald eyes. A green fitted shirt to match. Dark, golden hair. A smattering of freckles. A cold, wicked grin.

The man smiled at you, swinging his legs leisurely as he tilted his head. “Hello there, pet.”

You didn’t wait another second before your arms were reaching up behind you, pulling your crossbow off your back. You slotted the arrow into the flight groove in near record time before aiming it up at him, aiming for but a split second before you pulled the trigger. In a flash, the arrow went flying through the night sky, pointed directly at his face. You could have sworn you caught his eyes turn red before he suddenly vanished, your arrow passing through empty space before pinning itself into the tree trunk he had been leaning against just seconds prior.

You panted, quickly pulling another arrow out of your quiver and reloading your crossbow as you turned in a circle, not a single detail going unnoticed by your watchful eyes. Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you tried to focus on the rustling leaves around you. Your fingers curled around the stock of your bow a fraction tighter, your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Where is he? Where did he go?

A smooth voice curled around the back of your neck.

“Is this how you greet everyone you meet, or am I just special?”

Whipping around again, you pulled the trigger without even an ounce of hesitation. A twang of satisfaction shot through you as you heard the distinct sound of flesh being pierced, followed by a tumble to the ground. You rushed over at the sight of the man—or demon, as you should be calling him—lying sprawled on the ground, his arms casually tucked under his head as if he hadn’t just been shot.

“Ooh,” he murmured, wrapping his fingers around the arrow sticking out of his chest, “your arrows are made of dreamshade.” He grinned at you. “Smart one, aren’t you?”

Before you could even react, he ripped the arrow out, watching with amusement as crimson slowly dripped onto the front of his shirt. You stared at the hole in his chest, left behind by your arrow, a glimmer of glee expanding in your chest. Yes! you thought, your lips quirking as your hand floated toward the pistol hanging at your side. Now’s my cha—

All of a sudden, you watched in horror as the skin began to reform, the sinew and muscle stitching themselves back together to fill the gap. In an instant, his chest was whole again, the hole having disappeared entirely with nothing to even hint at its existence, were it not for the tear in his shirt.

“Unfortunately for you,” he said, tossing the arrow behind his head with a flick of his fingers, “I’m tougher than most demons out there.”

In a flash, you were standing over him, one foot digging into his chest. You didn’t even give him the chance to blink before you were pointing your crossbow at him once more, this time just barely allowing the arrow tip to hover above his neck. You tried to calm your breaths, pushing back the sick sense of joy you could feel starting to boil over inside you. You were so, so close to just killing hi—

“Don’t you think it’s a little rude to attack me without even asking for my name?” he calmly drawled, looking bored out of his mind.

You blinked in surprise, your thoughts faltering for a moment before your expression hardened once more. “I know who you are.”

He cocked his head at you, something like delight swimming in his viridian eyes. “Do you, now?”

You gulped, hesitating only for a moment before you began to speak. “Y-You’re Dream. Lord of chaos. Progenitor of destruction. Harbinger of nightmares.” You nearly choked on your own words.

“The world’s most powerful demon.”

He grinned at you, clapping his hands together above his head as he let out a small hoot. “Aw, you know all my titles?” He winked. “That’s cute.”

Cute, your brain repeated dumbly, a fuzzy feeling forming in your chest, but you quickly shook the thought from your head with a scowl. You should not be happy that one of the most powerful demon’s known to mankind called you cute.

(Okay, well. Maybe you were a little happy. Not that you would ever admit it.)

With a stony look, your finger wrapped around the crossbow trigger, the cool metal sending a shiver down you spine. “I’m here to kill you, Dream.”

He didn’t look fazed. “Oh? Even though we only just met?”

A snarl ripped itself out of your throat, fury slowly beginning to claw up your insides. Why did he sound so calm? Didn’t he understand that he was about to die to your hand?

“That doesn’t matter,” you said bluntly, trying to ignore your heart ramming away at your ribcage. “You’re a monster that needs to be disposed of.”

He hummed, absentmindedly picking at his nail. “That’s bold of you to say.” His tone was dull and interested, and his eyes seemed to shine even brighter thanks the green glow surrounding his head. “I can’t remember the last time a demon hunter has ever been so upfront with me.”

The string tying your restraint together snapped. That was it. How could he be so nonchalant? So apathetic? Didn’t he care?

“You’ve killed so many people,” you spat, “taken so many innocent lives, and for what?” You narrowed your eyes, nothing but pure disgust running through your veins as you dug the tip of your crossbow into the soft flesh of his neck. “What reason do I have to stop myself from ending your life right here, right now?”

Below you, Dream only stared blankly at you, his eyebrows raised. Then, he let out a sigh, wrapping a hand around the stock of your crossbow. Panic shot through you as he pulled it away from his throat with ease, his fingers curling around the polished wood. “First of all,” he said lowly, “that little thing isn’t going to do anything.”

In a blink of an eye, you heard the snapping of metal and wood, your gaze going wide. He shot you a cocky grin. “Not anymore.”

You leapt back, gritting you teeth and tossing your now useless crossbow onto the earth beside you. Your hand moved in a blur as you reached down and pulled out your pistol from its holster, pointing it toward him. “Each and every one of these bullets is soaked in holy water,” you shouted, your hand cocking back the safety. “Don’t think I won’t shoot.”

Dream rolled over onto his stomach, his grin widening as he rested his chin on his hand. “Tell me,” he drawled, tilting his head, “do you really think you scare me?”

You ignored the shaking of your fingers. “I—I can and will shoot you.”

He laughed, an uncomfortable warmth wrapping around your gut. “Please, darling—I’ve been alive for longer than you can even fathom. As if you’d be the first to pin me down, let alone try to shoot me.” His eyes flashed crimson, and you felt your stomach drop. “I know all your hunter tricks and tactics, and believe me when I say they won’t work.”

Suddenly, he floated up off the ground, not changing his position whatsoever. In only a matter of seconds, he was hovering above you, blinking down at your shocked expression with mirth glimmering in his scarlet gaze. 

Of course he could levitate—what were you expecting?

“Second,” he said, “I did a lot of those things a long time ago, especially in human years. How long has it been?” He tapped his chin. “Probably centuries by now, which is like forever for you guys.”

You scowled at him, your pistol still pointed at him. “That doesn’t mean you haven’t caused any chaos recently.”

“That’s true!” he chirped, snapping his fingers. “But my more recent activities have been much more... tame in comparison to my golden years, don’t you think?”

As much as you wanted to shoot him right here and now, you also wanted to punch him in the face before you did. “Lives are lives, Dream!” you shouted. “Any more or less lost doesn’t make you any more redeemable.”

A chuckle slipped from his lips, flipping onto his back as he continued to hover in the cool, night air. “Oh, you humans and your morality. How entertaining you all are.”

There was only one word running through your mind as you glared at him, your jaw clenching tight as your rage only multiplied inside you. Monster, monster, monster.

His eyelids fluttered shut as he allowed himself to drift a fraction lower toward you. “Well, I do believe I should ask—who’s to say that I was the one who killed those people, anyways?”

Your heart stopped in your chest. “...what are you talking about?”

He peeked an eye open at you. “It’s not like I flew down from the sky and shot them all with a rifle, and it’s not like I just snapped my fingers and everyone dropped dead.” He hummed at the thought. “Just what kind of person do you take me for?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, your toes curling in your boots. “Stop distracting me—you’re dodging the question.”

“On the contrary,” he shot back without missing a beat, “I’d argue that you’re dodging mine, pet.” You could hear the laughter threatening to bubble up his throat as he spoke. “Do you really think I was the one purely responsible for all that destruction?”

You tried to ignore the slight tremble of your hands. “A-Aren’t you?” you stammered out. “You’ve started wars, detonated massive bombs, pushed people to their absolute limits. That stuff’s all your fault.” You gulped. “...isn’t it?”

For a second, he simply stared at you. Then, he burst into a fit of giggles. “Oh, how naïve you are, pet. Just what were you taught?” As he clutched his chest, he sunk a little lower toward you. “I didn’t fight on those battlefields. I didn’t press the red button. I didn’t kick men and women to the ground, pointing guns in their faces. But do you know who did?”

The cogs in your head began to turn as you wracked your mind over his words. Then, a wave of understanding slammed into you, and you lowered your pistol, your arm going limp at your side.

He couldn’t possibly mean...

“Ding, ding, ding! You guessed it.” His lips curled up into a delighted smirk. “Humanity did.”

Your eyes widened in horror. Oh, no.

The manic look in his eyes only grew. “Oh, yes.” He cackled at the look on your face, pointing at you. “I didn’t even have to lift a finger for you to all walk straight into your own demise! How pathetic is that?”

You took a shaky step back, your pistol dropping to the ground. “B-B—”

“B-B-B-But what?” he said mockingly, mimicking you in a high-pitched tone. “Did they tell you that I’m the big, bad wolf and that humanity is Little Red? Because they lied, pet. They lied to you.” He pointed his fingers together to form an X, tilting his head at you. “I’ll have you know that I’m not a liar. A trickster, perhaps. But a liar?” He narrowed his eyes. “Never.”

He bent down where he hovered in the air, waggling a finger in your face. “The truth is, darling, is that I didn’t do anything. I just stood in the room and watched. I might have pointed out that that one little duke was in perfect view, or that that one city only had so many people living in it, but I never took any lives myself.” He lightly tapped your nose, and you shrunk back as he crooned, “Humanity did all that, pet. They’re the real monsters to blame here.”

You wanted to sink to your knees and melt into a puddle on the ground. He was wrong. He had to be wrong. Your mentor told you that Dream killed all those people—that he was the one to stab the knife in and twist it while pulling it out. She wouldn’t lie to you, never in a million years.

You wanted to believe him, you really did. But there was something about the freckles scattered across Dream’s face and the way the moonlight bounced off his eyes that made you realize.

He was telling the truth.

A few moments passed in silence as you stared long and hard down at your feet. You could feel Dream’s gaze boring into your figure, eyeing you up and down as you struggled to steady the beating of your heart. You half-expected him to mock you even more, but to your surprise, he didn’t. Maybe he was more human than you thought.

“Why?” you finally whispered after god knows how long.

When you were met with silence, you raised your eyes to meet his once more. “Why did you do it?” you said, louder this time. “Why did you interact with us at all if you wouldn’t even get your own hands dirty? If you knew it would only end like this?”

His eyes flashed, the tiniest hint of carmine swirling in their murky depths. “Isn’t the answer obvious, pet?” He flashed you a wicked grin. “I was bored.”

You blinked, realization slowly setting in. “Bored? Bored?” You were about to lose it, now. “You did all that just because you were bored?”

He shrugged. “Sure did. Chaos makes the world so much more interesting, don’t you think? If only good things happened, you would be bored, too.”

Your stomach churned with disgust. “You’re twisted.”

His smile only widened. “At least I’m having fun.”

All you could do was stare at him in defeat. This wasn’t right. There were more ways to have fun than to toy with humanity’s psyche and drive them to end people’s lives, even for a demon like him. There had to be something you could do. For some inexplicable reason you couldn’t bring yourself to name, a part of you almost wanted to help him.

I must be losing my mind, you thought. What person in their right mind would try to save a demon, let alone the most powerful one of them all?

You, apparently.

The cogs in your head began to churn, your mind bustling as it tried to come up with some alternative, no matter how silly. There had to be something he could do that wasn’t just this.

That was when it hit you.

“Why,” you started slowly, your voice coming out shaky and unsure, “don’t you have fun in a way that doesn’t destroy things... but creates them?”

He blinked lazily at you. “Hm?”

You swallowed, raising your chin. “You—you can have chaos, but it doesn’t need to be destructive.”

He raised his brows. “It doesn’t?”

Your gaze hardened. “Not at all.”

Just then, a flash of memory shot through your skull, and you gasped. “Say, Dream,” you began, “do you—do you know how the Greeks thought the universe came to be?”

You didn’t wait for him to answer. “First,” you said, “there was chaos. And from chaos, life was born. Gods and goddesses, plants and animals.”

“And humans,” he added.

You nodded. “And humans—like me.” You pressed a hand to your chest. “See? Chaos can create things. It doesn’t have to be so full of death and terror.”

While his expression was bemused, there was something sad about it that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. “You do realize that that’s just a story that you human made up?” he hummed. “How the universe came to be is far more different.”

You blinked. “You were alive for that?”

He sent you a blank smile, the look in his eyes betraying nothing. “Maybe, maybe not.” Waving his hand, he flipped over onto his back, floating a fraction higher than before. “Point is, that kind of chaos probably doesn’t exist.”

Your hands clenched into fists at your side. “But it could,” you whispered.

He paused, curiosity flickering in his gaze. “What?”

You dug your heel into the ground, raising your voice. “It could! You don’t know that it doesn’t.” You took a step toward him, throwing your arms out. “Isn’t that fun? Isn’t that exciting? That there’s a whole other form of chaos you’ve never discovered before?!”

Your shout rang out into the quiet forest as Dream stared at you, his lips parted the tiniest bit. Rather than looking amused or arrogant, he almost looked... raw. Real. This might just the most vulnerable look you’d gotten of him all night.

Then, he burst into laughter.

Lowering your arms, you huffed at him, trying and failing to ignore the warmth blossoming between your lungs as you took in his wheezing face. “W-What?”

“Oh,” he gasped between peals of laughter, “what a treat you are, pet.”

Heat flashed across your cheeks as he wiped away a tear from his eye, his chuckles slowly dying down. His laugh should not sound as attractive as it was—he should not be as attractive as he was.

“Tell you what,” he said as he caught his breath once more, sending you a devilish grin. “If you tell me your name, I’ll tell you my real one.”

You stared at him for a moment, then your jaw dropped. “What?”

He stared at you, his emerald eyes glowing in the dim light. “You heard me.”

For a few seconds, you simply gaped, your brain still struggling to process his words. “But... but why?” you finally blurted. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

He hummed at you, flipping upside down. “What about it doesn’t make sense? It seems like a fair trade to me.”

Sputtering, you threw your hands into the air. “A demon’s true name is the source of their power! By handing it over to me, you’re basically putting your life in my hands—in a demon hunter’s hands.” Your face blanched at the mere thought. “A human name and demon name aren’t even remotely comparable.”

He blinked at you, slow and lazy. “I know.”

You didn’t understand—you couldn’t understand. “Then why are you doing this?”

He dipped his down toward you, his face hovering mere inches away from yours. “Isn’t it obvious?” he murmured. “You’re interesting. And rather cute, I suppose.”

You back-pedaled, your eyes wide as you stammered, “I-I could kill you if you told me your real name.”

He hummed, tucking his hand under his chin. “Perhaps, I suppose.” His lips curled upward. “But you won’t.”

Your hand squeezed around nothing. “You don’t know that.”

He chuckled again, and your heart skipped a beat in your chest. “Oh, yes I do, pet. Don’t act as though I can’t see right through you. I know you’re too wishy-washy to kill me off just like that.”

He tilted his head at you, his gaze brimming with mischief.  “That’s the thing about humans—you’re all so greedy. You all want something you don’t have, something that fuels you to acquire more. It might be power, or fame, or fortune, or love. It’s quite pathetic, really. But curiosity?”

Lowering himself, he pushed himself up until he was standing flat on the ground again, his hands sliding into his pockets. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and your mouth went dry. “Why, curiosity is your greatest flaw of all. You humans always want to know more, and I know that you want to know what I do next, whether you’re aware of it or not.”

You felt like your blood was going to tear right out of your veins. You hated how right he was, how well he seemed to know you. “You’re insane,” you said.

His smile was lazy and wide as he took a single step toward you. “Probably. But I’ve been alive for ages now, and you might be the most fun thing I’ve seen in millennia. I want to know your name, pet.”

This was crazy in every sense of the word. Any other demon wouldn’t even dare utter their true name aloud, even to themselves, yet here Dream was, bargaining his for yours.

You’d be an idiot not to tell him your name, now.

Swallowing, you didn’t dare look away from his piercing eyes. “It—my name is [Y/N].”

His lips parted in awe, and he stepped toward you once more. “[Y/N],” he repeated, slowly. Carefully, like a wolf stalking its prey. “Fascinating name. Haven’t met too many of those in my lifetime, shocking as it may be.” He paused for a moment, and you could have sworn his smile looked different. “It’s pretty.”

A rush of heat went shooting down your spine, your stomach doing a flip. Biting the inside of your cheek, you glared at him. “Well, stop dawdling! What’s your real name, Dream?”

For a long, excruciatingly slow minute, he only stared at you, scanning every inch of your face. You could feel anxiety begin to crawl up your throat as he did nothing more than watch the rise and fall of your chest as you breathed.

All of a sudden, he was standing in front of you, his hand tucked underneath your chin and lifting it upward. You barely had the chance to gasp before you felt a soft warmth pressing against your lips, light as a feather and tasting like ash and smoke.

Before you could even register what had just happened, he was gone.

You whirled, your face growing astronomically hot. Your heartbeat was pounding in your ears again, but for an entirely different reason this time. You raised your hand to touch your lips while your cheeks burned furiously.

Did he just... kiss me?

Just then, a whisper ran along the shell of your ear, so soft that you almost missed it.

“My name is Clay.”

[im-whatchamccallit]

My Baby//Bang Chan (Stray Kids)

Pairing: Bang Chan x Fem!Reader

Genre: Very suggestive but mainly fluff

Warnings: Again, just very suggestive but nothing serious

Wonrd Count: 1.2k (The shortest thing I’ve written recently lol)

(A/N: Idk why I wrote this but I’m posting it anyways lmao)

Your lips formed a pout as you struggled to adjust the pillow beneath your shirt, stretching the cotton material past its limit as you folded the cushion to stay in place, gasping excitedly with your arms sprawled to marvel at your masterpiece.

You were afraid to admit that you’ve been feeling a bit hormonal recently, so much so that you could only dream and fantasize about lying in bed with your boyfriend with both your hands cradling your pregnant belly, months passing by before you can finally hold the creation you made together, spending every second arguing about who it looked more like. You just hoped they had his hair.

A content sigh left your lips as your hand fondled your fake stomach, no sign of life in the pillow but you still looked at it in your bedroom’s mirror as if it was the baby you always wanted. You felt your eyes begin to water, vision going blurry while you averted your gaze from the plush “fetus” in hopes it’ll clear the fictional scenarios you formed in your head.

“Damn hormones,” You sniffled, shutting your eyes and hoping to regain your composure and get back to your normal mindset before Chan got home but, once you calmed yourself down and peered back up, your eyes landed on the pair of said man’s through the mirror, a loud gasp leaving you as you hurriedly removed the pillow from your top and threw it back to your bed, face hot with embarrassment as he looked at you with amusement.

“Y-you’re finished practice already? That was fast.” You awkwardly stammered, trying to keep eye contact but wanting to hide now that he saw you in what you’d describe as your least graceful moment.

“We actually focused on recording today, since Jisung made a new verse and wanted to see who’s voice fit better with it but- uhm-“ He pointed between you and the pillow, eyebrow cocked with a smirk on his lips as he approached you.

“What were you just doing?”

You wanted to die at that moment. How were you supposed to explain you were teetering between a sexually feral beast one day to a depressed baby wanting… well, baby, the next?

A baby. That was the only way to describe yourself. You were angry about everything while crying over nothing, similar to a fussy infant that just needed a nap. You really felt pathetic, and the thought of admitting it to him made you feel even more pitiful. He’d just make fun of you like he is now, and you’d go back to watching baby and puppy videos on your phone to feed your maternal desires for just a moment in the everlasting day. Why was this happening to you? What the hell was wrong with you?

“Hey, don’t cry. Look at me.” Chan cooed, cupping your face until your eyes were fixated on his concerned ones, both of you ignoring the uncomfortable stickiness between your cheek and his palm from your tears.

“I don’t know why I’m crying. And I’m just constantly thinking about babies, and sex, but mostly babies, and every time I think about either, I just want to cry more.” Your voice cracked slightly as you continued to sob, mainly because his same playful smile returned.

“Stop laughing at me!” You protested, only to be guided into his chest, hands roaming from your face to your arms and finally around your shoulders to keep you in place.

“I’m not, I promise I’m not! It’s just cute.”

“How is this cute, Chris?” You asked, voice muffled against his plain black t-shirt.

“Well, you’re ovulating. And when you ovulate, you can sometimes get a bit emotional and… aroused. So wanting to have babies and make them is completely natural, and I would never make fun of you for wanting either.” He explained in his typical fashion, his awkwardness making the situation a lot less mortifying for you and his accent more prominent than usual, something you noticed happened when he usually ranted. It was comforting. But one thing made your eyebrows knit together in confusion, head tilting back until you were staring at him once more.

“Wait, how did you know I was ovulating? I didn’t even know that.”

“I try to keep track of it so we don’t end up having any pregnancy scares but, seeing as you’re ready to be a mom, I guess I don’t have to anymore.” The mischievous tone returned and you immediately pushed him away, pointing a finger at him in a silent warning.

“No! We both already have too many responsibilities, Chris. You know we don’t have time for a baby.”

“I can multitask and I’ll make time. C’mon, (Y/n/n),” You yelped as he spun you around in a dramatic fashion, wrapping an arm around your waist as his other hand massaged your abdomen, pulling your back flush to his chest as his head rest in the crook of your neck.

“I think you’ll be really cute pregnant. Plus, we’ll have a little boy or girl calling us mommy and daddy, they’ll be busy playing with their uncle Changbin and Felix on weekends while we make them a brother or sister.” He tried to coax, lips pressing to your neck and leaving a trail of kisses from your collarbone to the spot just behind your ear, a breathy sigh leaving you as you shut your eyes in pleasure.

“You’re an idiot,”

“I’m just determined.” He corrected you, hands sliding to rest on your waist only to ease up your shirt to massage your sides, your hand flying behind you to tangle your fingers into his hair for some sort of anchor through the teasing touches that sent your hypersensitivity into overdrive.

“Are you sure we’re ready? We’ve never really talked about this.” You said, slowly twisting in his arms and maneuvering yourself to face him, drawing him away from your now slightly damp neck and his eyes bore into yours with a dark gaze that screamed lust and need.

“The day I met you, I told myself ‘we’re going to get marry and have five beautiful kids’. I haven’t changed my mind on that and I think the sooner we start, the better.” Chan said in a serious tone, the kind of voice that expressed nothing but authoritativeness and certainty, a chill running down your spine and your teeth sinking into your bottom lip, not wanting to seem too shy now at the slightly lewd confession but not wanting to pounce on him then and there and kill the romantic atmosphere.

“I-I guess we should get started then.”

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

You thought everything was said and done, that you’d be nude with your boyfriend rolling around the sheets of your bed in a desperate attempt of procreating one of your soon-to-be many kids, but the excitement you felt just moments ago slowly died as you lied naked on your back, rolling your eyes to your side to see Chan equally as bare with his eyes glued to his phone.

“Chris,” You said sweetly, trying to hide your bitter tone as he refused to look in your direction.

“I know, babe, I’m just trying to find which position would be best for conceiving.”

“Literally any position! We just need the sperm to meet the eggs!” You growled, eyes somehow managing to widen more as he still ignored you, a pout on your lips and a huff leaving your nose.

“I’m taking a nap.”

“Okay, I’ll be done soon.”

You rolled your eyes before turning your back on him, doubting your bundle of joy would be in you any time soon.