#these fuckers could make bodies from living stone

[meowhara]

when will we get to see mafia miguel x bunny reader again I’m wanna read more also love ur fictional stories ❤️❤️

thank you so so much for liking any of my stories and as another form of apology for my disappearance, I made a little drabble for our beloved bunny reader!

‎‧₊˚✧ 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲? 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲?

♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ mafia!miguel o'hara x hybrid!bunny reader

cw : miguel's ex (I just feel like this should be a warning)

you were waiting for Miguel to come home from work when all of the sudden an uninvited guest barged her way in into his place

You’re just being dramatic, you thought. He was just going to work, the only time where he would never allow you to be by his side. His answer never changed. A big no to every promise you made to behave your best so you could come with him throughout the day. 

The slow mornings are your favorite. Being awoken to Miguel’s lazy yet loving kisses. Tender kisses planted all over your face. You wish it could always be like this. Yet goodbyes always sneaked its way into your life. 

It feels lonely without him. He is all you dedicated yourself to. It was what you have been taught from the start. Loyalty, beyond everything. 

You lie on his bed alone. His side of the bed was cold, all warmth gone from being abandoned for hours on end. You weren’t the type to be a clingy one but his attention makes you feel safe. His actions screamed promises that he would never leave you again. That he would shower you with love and care, the only thing you never thought you would experience.

They’d shrug whenever you asked when he’ll come back. Giving you no reassurance whatsoever. Therefore, you need to reassure yourself. Bewilderment across their faces the moment you come out from his room. How on Earth did Miguel’s coat end up in your hands? You obviously wouldn’t tell them. But right now you needed a tingle of his existence with you, his scent. They did try to take it away from you, but you were so persistent and won’t let go of the massive piece of clothing that fits you like a dress. Guess the best idea is to let you have it all to yourself, rather than having their heads ripped off from making you cry by their own boss. 

So here you are, curling up on the couch, drowned by the massive coat that covers almost the entirety of your body. The gentle conversations from the TV in the background filled your ears. Your head buried into the fine material the coat made out of. 

“Ma’am, please leave. Boss is not here at the moment.” A man’s muffled voice can be heard from outside the front door, making you shoot your head up in curiosity. “You’re lying! I know he’s inside! He’s just avoiding me like the motherfucking coward he is!” Another voice replied and it’s a woman’s voice. The door slammed open before a woman with light skin tone and short brown hair just about her shoulder rushed into the house in an aggressive manner. “Where is he? O’Hara!” She shouted, looking absolutely furious. His underling just sighs. Too tired to deal with the stone head of a woman. “Please leave. He doesn’t want you here.” The man spoke, forcing gentleness into his voice. Just who is this woman? Barging into someone’s house like it was hers in the first place. “I’m not leaving until I force a slap into that fucker’s face. And don’t you dare tell me what to do. You’re nobody but a loyal dog that works for him.” She sounded like a little kid. Throwing a tantrum after not getting what she wanted. 

Her heels clicked on the floor in hurry, passing by the living room where you’re curled up in before she paused on her tracks.

“Who is that?” 

“Nobody. Now please leave.” He raised his voice. Patience wearing thin from how stubborn she is.

“You’re telling me, nobody is sitting in there right now as we talk?” She pushed the man aside by his shoulder before making her entrance into the living room. 

After a second of silence in between both of you, you stood up to your feet. Feeling the need to say something in order not to come out as rude. “Hello…” You greeted meekly. Her eyes scanned over you as she stood there with her hand on her hip. Your bunny ears were so strange in her eyes.

She recognizes the coat that was resting on your small form. It's his and he would never let any soul touch anything that was his, unless… “Take it off.” She commanded but you shook your head in refusal. “I said take it off. Before I rip it off of you.” She scoffed at your attempt to keep it to yourself before walking over towards you and started pulling on the coat. “If I told you to take it off. Then take. It. Off''

“Ma’am—“ The moment the insolent woman laid her hands on you, Miguel’s men tried to stop her by pulling her off of you. But she didn’t budge, “Don’t touch me! You have no right to touch me.” She slapped the man’s grip away until all he could do now is to watch her assaulting your innocence. 

She continued to yank the piece of clothing off until your knuckles turn white from how hard you’re clutching onto it. You eventually gave up, letting her forcefully snatch the coat off your body. You thought she’d just left after all of that, but she’s not done. Your presence was like the fuel to her hatred and anger towards Miguel. So she decided to put an end to this and claim her rightful place again by his side. And the only thing stopping her to do so is you. What kind of girl are you anyway that Miguel chose you over her? She panted and threw the coat aside before she regained her composure. You keep your head low. Making eye contact with the beast is the last thing you want to do. 

“Leave.”, She waited for you to move your legs and leave. Not from the living room, but from his house. She waited and still didn’t get any reaction from you. She expected you to just scramble off like the loser of a girl you are. Instead of scrambling off you stood there quietly, worsening her madness. Her hand made its way onto your face. Gripping both of your cheeks tight with her palm and forcing you to look into your eyes. She’s satisfied over tears in your eyes, satisfied that she successfully made you cry over something like this. 

“Leave this house and I won’t hurt you.” She threatened and it surprised her when you pushed her off and tried to run but she yanked your hand and pulled on one of your fluffy ears. Forcing you to stand still in front of her. “Listen here, you little pest. Miguel doesn’t love you. So don’t get any idea in that little head of yours, that he would actually keep you.”

You fighting back instead of running was the least thing she expected you to do. Yet your claws dug deep into her hand which was still tightly gripping your ear earning a loud whine from how painful her doing is towards you. “You little—“, She hissed through gritted teeth. Her free hand raised high in the air, prepared to slap you. 

However, the quick motion of her hand was interrupted. She froze right there and then when she saw no other but Miguel stood in front of her with her free hand trapped in his tight grip. “M— Miguel.” She stuttered and let go of your ear. The smile on her face was dismissed by a hard slap across her face. Miguel slapped her, hard enough to return her senses into her mind. She stumbled back when he let her hand go. She stood there in silence with her palm resting on the same spot on her cheek where Miguel had slapped her. “How dare you!” She squealed.��

He stood there with such a calm manner, though both you and Dana knew that calmness was never a good thing when it comes to Miguel and this kind of situation. He turned his back on her and crouched beside you as you cried on the floor. The way he tried to gently soothe you were like daggers stabbed into her heart. She couldn’t believe he would stoop so low and replace her with someone else like you. Someone who’s weak and clinging onto him like a leaf that was to be blown away by the wind. 

“After all this time, you’re going to throw me away just like this?!” She shouted, overwhelmed by a mix of emotions. “I bet that you don’t even love her. You’re just using her for her body! The only reason for you to keep her is only because you enjoy fucking her! Then you’ll abandon her like you did to me! You’re supposed to love me, not her…” 

“Can’t you see that I’m here for you? Miguel?!” He stood up and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her close so that their faces were almost touching. “I didn’t abandon you. You did. You cheated. You think I didn’t know about you dating my brother behind my back?” Her body felt weak the moment truth escaped through the mouth of the man she once dated. “You should be grateful that I didn’t take matters into my own hands and pushed you away instead. But you still dare to barge into my house and harassed her?!” His breath hits her face as he continues to yell at her like rays of anger. “I loved you and this is how you pay me back? Answer me, Dana!” 

The room falls quiet after his roar has died down. “Leave… And never come back. I never wanted to see you again.” He growls into her ear before pushing her away by the shoulder. His words broke her down into tears before she ran off and slammed his front door hard then drove off.

He took his place once again by your side as you tensed up in fear after watching the whole scene unfold right in front of your own eyes, once again dropping your head down and it has been an ongoing habit by now. “Love? What’s wrong?” Miguel asked, making sure that you’re okay or he might have to take a visit to that bitch Dana. He saw how tense you are. Probably shocked from how harsh he treated his own ex. “You hit her…” 

“I know baby, I have to.” 

“But you said— you said you would never hit a woman.” You said in between sobs.

“She’s no woman if she tries to hurt you, she’s a monster. I’m doing this for you. So you’ll always stay safe. I would never hit you nor hurt you, that I promise.” 

“Really?” 

“Of course baby.” He kisses you tears away before taking his coat and scooping you into it with one force. Turning you into his little burrito, wrapped up in his coat. A couple giggles erupted from your mouth. He carried you in his arms and started walking upstairs. “I see you dare to get your hands on my coat.”

“You were gone for so long.” You whine. 

He laughed, “I was only gone for the day, it’s not that long.”

He opened the bedroom door before setting you down slowly on the bed then lay down beside you. “Let me make it up to you, what do you say baby?”

a/n : I guess there's only one thing that the whole miguel o'hara fandom could agree on. the fact that we all hate dana d'angelo

[ponderingmoonlight]

Toji Fushiguro coming back to life to save (y/n) in Shibuya

Shibuya Arc scenarios that live in my head rent-free pt.ll

Pt. l with Gojo and Geto are here

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x reader

Word Count: 2,5k

Notes: Literally no one asked for this, I had to do this for myself after the latest episode okay. Loots of grief, hurt and language. Enjoy

„Hey, it’s been a while“, you mumble to yourself, mindlessly dropping a bouquet of flowers onto the stone in front of you.

“You’re not coming back, are you?”

It’s been more than 10 years to be exact. Ten years of working as an assassin, ten years of roaming around without an aim.

Ten years since losing him.

Back then, you never admitted to anyone how you felt about him, how his sight alone made your body do crazy things and lightened up your cloudy mood. He was never a man that was easy to love, let alone very emotional. When it comes to women, Toji probably was the worst man walking on this earth.

But oh how much you loved him. How much you adored the little smile he wore on his face when he teased you, how much you longed for his arms that wrapped themselves around you when nobody was watching, how much you miss his hands roaming all over your body while he fucked you brainless each and every night, screaming out his name like a prayer.

Losing him was the most unbearable pain you’ve ever felt, an event that made you forget your belief in love forever. He was never yours, but losing him shattered your fucking heart. Since he’s gone, you never let another man touch you again, living from alcohol, cigarettes and assignments.

And this.

You visited Toji’s grave whenever you felt enough courage to do so without breaking down. Day after day, week after week, year after year. Always with the same empty feeling that occupies your mind, the what ifs that plague your tired heart whenever you think of him.

Beep beep beep.

Who the hell is calling you right now?

“I’m busy doing nothing”, you bark into your phone.

“(y/n), just wanted to let you know that something’s going on in Shibuya. Rumor has it that that Gojo boy was sealed.”

“Impossible”, you breathe out, almost dropping your phone.

Gojo Satoru, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, the fucker that killed Toji all these years ago, is gone? Your heart bangs against your chest, mind unable to comprehend the words. This is your chance. The chance to seek revenge, to kill everyone he cares for in one place without resistance.

Everyone expect him.

“I don’t know how this will go. My kid, Megumi. If something happens, keep an eye on him for me, will ya?”

You promised. Despite the fact that you pushed Toji’s past away as far as you could, you have to keep an eye on his son when Gojo isn’t around anymore.

“I thought so too, but seems like that’s a fact.”

“Do we know anything else? Some dirty details?”

“Not really, but someone pretty strong has to be there if that person was able to seal that fucker, don’t you think?”

“Yeah”, you mumble.

“I will take a look at this myself.”

Without waiting for a reply, you hang up and start walking.

This is your chance. After all this years of suffering, regretting, anger and agony, you’ll finally get your revenge. You will show them what the strongest jujutsu sorcerer did to you by taking your love away, by destroying your life so violently that there’s no more happiness left. You will give him a taste of his own medicine.

If Gojo Satoru ever sees the light of day again, all of his beloved ones will be dead. You will make sure of that.

-at Shibuya-

“Jujutsu sorcerers and their fucking curtains”, you mutter to yourself while effortlessly walking through the barrier.

How pathetic to think that curses and other jujutsu sorcerers are their only enemies. After all, Toji was almost able to defeat the strongest of them with nothing but his own rough hands.

Almost. How much you hated that word. He was almost able to defeat Gojo, he was almost able to survive that battle, he almost made it home to you.

But he never did. And that’s why you’re here, standing on top of a tall building while scanning the area around you. A few seconds later, loud bangs can be heard from a stress a few miles away. You spring into action immediately, gliding over the buildings with your harness so effortlessly that even a trained eye wouldn’t detect you. In their world, you are invisible, nothing more than a shadow without jujutsu.

And that’s their weakness.

You stop on a house corner, immediately caught by the sight of none other than Megumi Fushiguro in front of you along with another boy and an old fart. Your heart clenches painfully at the way his cold eyes stare at the old man, his facial features taking you back in time. Oh, he looks so much like his father.

So much that you want to go back home and swallow a bottle of vodka to get his face off your mind. But no, you’re on a mission, you have to make sure that kid is alright and kill all of his friends. You’ve got a job to do, get a hold of yourself.

With skilled eyes, you judge how he moves, how he acts, how he fights. Well, he might not be the best fighter you have seen yet, but he sure has some potential. Together with his little friend, he should be able to defeat that old fart. If not, you’ll come back later.

While you swore on keeping an eye open for him, you’re reluctant to meet Megumi and somehow don’t want him to find out that you’re after his friends and sensei. So you tear your gaze away from him, aiming for the skyscraper in front of you where another fight takes place. Whoever this is will be the first victim of your killing streak.

You will make every single one of these bastards pay for what Gojo did. You will make them feel the way you felt after his decease.

Over.

And over.

Again.

It isn’t hard for you to get up Shibuya tower in the matter of seconds, the harsh winds waving through your hair. Your heart pounds, eyes darting around the area.

Three people, two men are fighting while an old lady sits on the ground.

“And who of you belongs to that Gojo fucker?”, you mumble, gripping both of your katana’s tightly.

This is the moment. After Gojo is sealed, this is your opportunity to finally seek revenge, to kill every single one of them. When this fucker returns, he’ll be alone.

Just like you are since he killed Toji.

“What the hell are you doing here? Get lost”, the old woman hisses.

You stare at the broad back of the man who hits the other without mercy. Damn, that speed, that precision. It’s like back then. His fine technique almost makes him look like…

Toji.

Automatically, your feet carry you forward. You swing yourself in the air, feet ready to kick the broad man into his chest.

“Don’t you think this is a little unfair?”, you shout.

His eyes dart towards you.

He grabs your ankle.

All you can do is stare at him, mind going completely blank.

His face. This gorgeous face you adored so much. The little scar that emphasized the corner of his delicious mouth so well. His collarbone that creeps through the sweater he’s wearing. No, there’s no doubt. The man standing in front of you is Toji.

“Get out of the way, woman.”

Toji’s frame slams your body against the ground merciless. You see stars, lungs refusing their service as all you can do is stare in horror at the shell of the man you used to love, glimmer of hope nipped in the bud.

This isn’t his voice. This isn’t his smile.

This just isn’t Toji.

You hate the way your eyes start to water as he grabs your throat and yanks you upwards.

“You are not Toji. How dare you to use his body like that”, you cough out.

Instead of replying, he just smiles at you so heartlessly that you feel like throwing up. No, this simply can’t be Toji. This is the empty shell of the man you’ve lost. Feelings flood your heart uncontrollably. Anger, grief and most of all disappointment haunting and bringing you to your knees. God, how much you wished it was true. For the split of a second, you really thought this was him. Your Toji, the man you haven’t forgot after all these years, the only one you ever sacrificed your heart to.

But he’s gone. And he won’t come back.

“There needs to be a corpse for shapeshifting. Dumb girl, of course this isn’t Toji Zen’in. But you will die through his hands.”

Your body refuses to move. All you can do is watch as he throws the body of the other man down, off the tower, into certain death.

Fuck. Is this really how it ends?

“Y’know, you’re actually not that bad.”

“I hope so, jackass. Otherwise I’ll throw you out.”

“C’mon princess, don’t be like that. Y’know I’m obsessed with you.”

“Oh yeah? Might need to hear that again…”

“I’d rather show you.”

Like in slow-motion, his frame casually walks back and comes to a stand next to the old woman. Every limb of your body screams out in pain, lungs feeling like they’ll rip apart any minute. So this is the force of Toji Fushiguro.

It could be funny, actually. You always thought Toji is the strongest man on this earth, admired him for his sheer strength despite not being a jujutsu sorcerer. But when he was with you, his deadly touch became gentle, caressing you with what felt like…love.

Did he really love you? Who knows. But you did. Oh, how much you loved that man – the man whose back is now faced towards you, muscles tight by the thought of killing you with his bare hands.

Is there anything more ironic than getting killed by Toji Fushiguro?

“I would rather die through his hands than living like this until I’m as old and ugly as you.”

“Grandson.”

“I know, granny.”

He turns around. The shell of the man you thought about every night before drifting off to sleep, the man that is the only one you ever dedicated your heart to. That oh so rough face that felt so gentle against your fingertips. How much you’d give to talk to him one last time, to let him know how you really feel.

With a swift motion, he grabs your throat again, feet hanging in the air as you feel like life is slowly drifting away from you. Before your blurry vision threatens to eat you alive, he slams your already weak body into the floor, blood spurting in every direction.

Nothing but darkness and this foreign far away voice that speaks out of his body.

“That should be enough.”

Your fingers twitch. Is this the end? His footsteps echo through your brain.

“Granny, wh-wh-wh-wh-what do whe do now?”

“It won’t hurt to keep Satoru Gojo out of play. So go down below and kill sorcerers.”

…

“Grandson?”

“Who the hell do you think you’re ordering around, old hag? And how dare you to hurt ma princess?”

That voice…You must be hallucinating. It sounds just like him, just like you remember it. That deep unpromising vibration that made you go crazy more than once.

A shriek, a dull fall, silence. Footsteps that are approaching you again. Heavy, confident steps.

“I thought you can take more than that, princess.”

Hands grab your shoulders gently, lifting your bruised and weak body out of the dirt. You force yourself to open your heavy eyelids, mind still trying to process what is happening.

You stare right into his ocean blue eyes.

“Missed me?”

Your shaky breath rings in your ears, trembling hands searching for hold on his shoulders.  

“Toji?”

Nothing more than a fade whisper in the night, a faint hope resonates.

“You’re still looking hot.”

Tears swell up your eyes before you can catch yourself while you wrap your aching arms around him for dear life. This has to be a dream, some cruel technique, a hallucination. But you don’t give a fuck. At the moment, all you can think about is how he wraps his large arms around your waist and back while holding the back of your head and the way he smells.

God, he smells just like you remember, just like the Toji you knew.

“Please tell me you’re back. Tell me this isn’t just a cruel dream. I don’t want to wake up anymore….”

“Live and in color. It’s been a while”, he comments.

Your eyes dart towards him and his sly grin. The grin you know all too well, the grin you adored more than anything else in the world.

“I missed you every single fucking day. And now…And now you’re standing in front of me. Alive”, you stammer.

“These fuckers thought they could use my powers against you. Ain’t no way  I’d let this happen princess. Even if it means going to hell and back to be with you.”

Your fingers trace over his cheeks, his collarbones, his broad chest.

“It’s me, (y/n)”, he confirms your unspoken question.

“I missed you.”

“Yeah? Missed ya too. And can’t wait to show you how much. But work comes first and I still have a lot of shit to do.”

“I came here to take revenge, to kill all of Gojo’s little puppies for what he did to you”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

“What a good girl you are, I always loved ya for that. Let’s get you out of here first. I’ll be back in a few hours, ‘kay?”

Toji…Loves you? Your hands dig into his firm biceps, eyes piercing right through him for any sign of sarcasm, any sign of manipulation.

But no, it’s clear. The man in front of you is indeed Toji Fushiguro. And he told you that he loves you.

He’s back and he loves you.

“I love you. Fuck, I love you so much! Living without you was hell”, you cry out, completely breaking down in tears while he holds you in his arms.

“I know princess, I know… Will catch up on everything, I promise. Let’s get you outta here. So sorry for hurting you like that.”

He picks you up in his arms while you allow yourself to close your eyes and lean your face against his chest. This might be a manipulation, a dream and nothing more. But you never thought you’d get him back. Fuck, after more than 10 years you’re really back in his arms.

Screw if this isn’t real. For this precious moment, you finally feel home again.

[gingerjolover]

I need jb riding my strap for Valentine’s Day 🫠❤️💗

OOOOOH BABY

this one is SO highly requested, and ive got some opinions

shall we take a blurb-esque journey together?

RPF smut under da cut, minors gtfo<3

there was no specification for reader but i think this could be soft!gf reader or even masc!reader bc realistically i think you're getting treated like a princess on valentines day

i do think jules has certain feelings about v-day like maybe the capitalistic affects on holidays riddled with consumerism

but she also will use ANY excuse to spoil you

so vday could be a day where jb literally just does whatever you want, like you wanna go to the aquarium? you bet your ass she's taking you to the aquarium. movie marathon? oh babe, she's on it and has snacks and drinks and the living room all cozy and decked out

depending on how long your relationship has been going on for or even if its relatively new but maybe it' your first vday together, its clear that jb is a GIVER

like she would literally rip the moon from the sky and give it to you kneeling down holding it on a silver platter for your taking

but the one thing that you really want is to give back to her

and there are plenty of things that you can do for jules, she strikes me as a "just wanna be in the same room and breathe the same air" kind of lover

like after a long day you washing her hair, giving her tense muscles a massage, rubbing cuticle oil on her nails and giving her hands a massage with some nice lotion, "coloring" in her tattoos, or even just giving her a long hug or cuddling and pressing kisses to her skin are all acceptable physical means of compensation for what she does for you

but she doesn't ask for things, especially during sex

she strikes me as someone who isn't quite stone, but maybe somewhere adjacent where like yes of course she wants to get off but she finds SO much pleasure in making you feel good that sometimes she doesn't NEED to

but you want to spoil her so after a really nice dinner or maybe a fun day at home, you're both snuggled up and on the couch or the bed and i think the approach might be a little different

soft!gf is definitely more timid when initiating sex, not like timid like shy but more passive? like jb knows your body better than you do practically and she knows by the way you squirm that you want her to fuck you

regardless, i think jb's perfect starting point is her being able to make you cum at least once with her mouth/fingers OR a combo

like thats a starting point, it can only build up from there but to her that is the best way for her to gauge where you're at and its a good spot for her to be (girlie LOVES to be between your thighs, she eats like she's never eaten before i will die on this hill)

and jb will usually kiss up your body afterwards, her wet chin and lips smacking kisses on every part of your skin

the little fucker loves to press her lips to yours, mumbling against your mouth, usually along the lines of "tastes good, hm?", moving away from your lips and pressing kisses on your face, her brown eyes twinkling mischievously

and usually your hands in her hair as she makes her way down, tongue and teeth teasing a nipple, sucking hickeys into your chest but tonight you tug on her hair gently

she looks up, lips all puffy and pink, baby cow eyes blown out with lust, "what're ya rushin' me for?" or something comes out of her mouth, her lil southern twang making an appearance

and you're like, "the strap," and she's smirking, thinking you're being needy and she tries to dive back in, "be patient..."

"no i- i wanna use it on you," tumbles out of your mouth, confidence skyrocketing from your first orgasm

and she looks like a deer in headlights being like, "huh- w-what?"

and all it really takes is you whining a please, before she's helping you adjust it on your body

i feel like soft!gf has very little experience actually wearing the strap, maybe masc!gf has more experience despite jb being the giver in the relationship

either way jb is sitting lowkey awkwardly, her cheeks are a pink mess or she's doing that eye thing where it's kinda giving side eye

"we don't- i don't have to do this jay, i can just use my mouth," you say, making sure she knows she has full control

and she's stammering like, "what?! no i just-"

"what baby?" you ask her so sweetly, running a hand through her hair, and she's shaking like a fucking leaf

"if you keep looking at me like that with that, thing, on you i'm gonna cum," she says quickly, hella embarrassed that just you kneeling on the bed with it is doing something to her

it's honestly a blur but next thing you know jb is on top, riding the strap, your hands on her hips

and she talks about you being whiny.... biiiiitch she is the WHINIEST mf ever on the strap okay

she literally can't form coherent words, her forehead is glued to your shoulder, her breathing heavy as her hands press on the bed next to your head

you have to encourage her to keep going, truthfully she doesn't have a ton of rhythm, like the way she moves her hips is sloppy because she's feeling more than just the base of the strap on her clit like she would normally feel

i think you'd adjust slightly, pushing her up gently and thrusting upwards and she would damn near shriek

it takes a lot to get her worked up sexually, she's the dirty talker when she's domming you but she has no words, just little mumbles and whines and whimpers and they sound so pretty you can't help but patronize her just a bit because she does the same to you but a million times worse casually

"doing so good jay," you'd breathe out and she's about to lose it

poor jb's literally leaking all over the base of the strap like she can't help it

and when she cums she literally squeals and you have to stifle a giggle because her face is buried into your neck

she moves in to overstim territory pretty quickly so you kinda move her off of it and pull out which she does not like and she kinda huffs when you do

and then you pull out all the stops

lots of kisses, warm cloth, ice water through a silicon straw (she likes to bite them this is my hc another hill i will die on), words of affirmation and praise and then a nice soak in the tub

i wouldn't say she's in subspace but she is kind of in a haze until she's laying with her back against your front in the tub and its almost like she sobers up

"you're in my spot," she grumbles, the grumpiness in her voice a result of absolute vulnerability

you just giggle, pushing her hair out of her face and kissing her cheeks

"we can switch" before she's scoffing like of course you were going to switch

there is definitely a debrief about how she felt, i think she can't quite articulate how much she likes it but its not going to be an everyday thing because as much as it felt good she feels more pleasure getting you off

*insert cheesy "happy valentine's day" exchange here* which julien engages in with an eye roll and a small smile before going into the history of western consumer driven holidays

and of course when engaging in pillowtalk, she does spitball some "new positions" that you could try if "you ever want to ya know, wear the strap again," and you're like.... "so you liked it?" with a smirk, and she's kinda playing it off before being like, "maybe for my birthday we could..."

[fandomzwriterk]

Can you write about the female reader teasing Smoke while cuddling? 😁

A/N: I’m collecting all the Mortal Kombat fans like Pokemon cards now and I couldn’t be more prouder

Warnigns: GN!Reader gets kidnapped + blood warning + The Lin Kuei brothers fight each other + fluffy content at the end

Smoke x GN!Reader

“This is the dumbest idea we’ve ever had.” Bi Han growled

Shang Tsung, Quan Chi, and Bi Han walked around the underground grave, looking around as the other Lin Kuei foot soldiers started building a camp to stay in. They weren’t leaving this place anytime soon.

“Well they’re our bargaining chip so they’ll come soon.”

“My brothers are not idiots.”

“Yet I know one of them is going to slip up.”

Shang Tsung and Quan Chi left, Bi Han staring at the cage Quan Chi built to keep you contained. You had two guards always watching, your leg tied by a chain so you wouldn’t even think of escape, frozen extra solid by Bi Han’s ice. He scowled at you, noticing your dirty and poor living condition. You still had open wounds all over you, pathetically covered in pieces of cloth, staining them to the point you could see the blood underneath.

“You are a pathetic excuse of a Lin Kuei soldier. I know they’ll come for you, Tomas always does.”

Some time earlier…

“I can’t climb that. What do you expect me to do? Have Kuai pull me up with ropes? Have Tomas carry me?”

You remember the scowl on Bi Han’s face, much like the one he gave you now. He hated you, you always knew that. You just never expected he’d hurt his brothers the worst way possible.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” Tomas shouted as he lunged at Quan Chi

Kuai Liang and Bi Han were fighting Shang Tsung, both trying to incapacitate him so they could bring him back to Liu Kang.

“Then why don’t I do this?” Quan Chi replied darkly

Quan Chi’s dark magic opened up under the ground, four ropes of it grabbing your arms and legs, holding you down to the ground. You struggled, but Quan Chi had strong mental power and hold of dark magic.

“This is pitiful.”

One flick of his hand and Kuai Liang and Bi Han got sent into the wall while Tomas was grabbed by one more of the dark magic ropes. He tried stabbing it, smoking away, nothing worked. Quan Chi tied down Bi Han and Kuai Liang on their knees in front of Shang Tsung, being held back by animated corpses.

“Work with me, and I can make the Lin Kuei great and feared again.”

You saw Bi Han’s eyes scan around at each of you in the room, resting them on you as you were helplessly tied down by the magic.

“Bi Han I swear on the Elder Gods if you do this-“

“And what if I did?”

“You wouldn’t hurt us, we’re your brothers, and Y/n is practically like our family too.”

“She’s family Bi Han! Don’t destroy what Father worked so hard-“

“Father was an old man who lost his mind, and I’m glad I left him to die. Now, I’m going to make sure both of you are without the distraction once more.”

Bi Han was let go, standing up as he walked over to you and crouched in front of you.

“You have no place in our family, even if you care about Tomas. You are nothing, and you always will be.”

He kicked your face, feeling the actual strength he’d been holding back from you in practice. It was painful, painful as hell. He kicked you once more, blood falling from your mouth and your eyes almost shut, but you could see his eyes staring at you with years of hatred. He was going to make everyone suffer his wrath, even his own family.

“You mother fucker!”

Quan Chi’s grip on Tomas loosened as he sent a smoke bomb out. Through the thick fog you could see Tomas move to help Kuai Liang up, starting to make his way to you.

“Get her out of here and into the tomb. She’s more valuable alive.”

Tomas and Kuai were fighting Bi Han as Shang Tsung and Quan Chi dragged your body down the cold stone hallway, as you could only watch as the room became smaller and smaller the more you got dragged away.

“You are a shame on the name of the Lin Kuei! Both of you! I am your Grandmaster and you listen to me!”

“I’m not listening to your shit anymore Bi Han! I’m going to end your reign of terror right now. Give her back now!”

“Tomas were outnumbered.”

Animated corpses crawled from under the ground, slowly going to surround both Tomas and Kuai, moving them to the edge of the stone balcony. Tomas could only fight in fear as he watched you get dragged away.

Now…

“Oh I’m going to get out of here Bi Han and when I do, I’m going to make sure you suffer for what you did to your brothers.”

“Ha! Not by the grace of the Elder Gods you won’t. You have no chance of even making it out of this room alive. You’d be dead before you could even think of fighting back.”

You wanted to curse him out, call him a bastard, but you knew words weren’t going to do anything now. You could see his smug expression while he crossed his arms, staring down at you like a dog in the streets.

“It’s been five days, I doubt they’ll be coming for you.”

Five days… this had been hell on Earth for you. Little did you know, somebody was making his way inside. Eventually, Bi Han followed Shang Tsung and left you alone with two foot soldiers. Even if you tried to escape now, the chain on your ankle would stop you. Your body felt weak, feeling faint at the loss of blood that seeped into the dirt you sat on. So, you closed your eyes, praying someone would save you as you fell to the ground.

“Hey! Y/n! Tomas over here!” You heard

Your hearing was starting to sound like you were going underwater, the pain slowly drifting away and you felt lighter, feeling calm as your eyes remained closed.

“No no no no! Y/n! Wake up!”

Through the darkness and light feeling, you could feel someone holding you, putting your body against their chest as they stood and picked you up, walking fast as more voices began to speak.

“Liu Kang!”

“Time to go! Right now!”

You felt the person holding you tightly, their grip never letting go as you felt warmth start to touch your skin. You still felt faint, but the warmth was brining back the sounds you could hear. After some time, you opened your eyes, staring at a white ceiling as you felt your body stiffen up while you tried to sit up. Your vision was blurry, slowly becoming clear as you blinked. You looked down, Tomas’ head laid on top of your hand, feeling the fact he was holding it too. He seemed tired. Had he been looking for you? As if he could hear your thoughts, he looked up, eyes red and puffy from crying. He jumped into you, hugging you like his life depended on it.

“You’re okay. Thank the Elder Gods.”

His grip tightened, holding on to you like it would be his last. Tomas pulled back a little, staring into your eyes as he brushed a strand of hair out of your eyes, tucking it behind your ear. For the first time since you’ve met him, you could finally see his smile. You could see him, the real Tomas, who wasn’t hiding anything from you. You put a hand on his cheek, seeing all the worry and hurt in his eyes. He loved you, more than you could ever know.

“I’m okay Tomas. I’m okay.”

“Good. Cause your dumbass had me worried!”

“Eh?! What does that mean?”

“You are such a dumbass for getting caught.”

“And you’re an even bigger dumbass for letting me get caught.”

You booped his nose, something you often did as kids whenever you teased each other. It was an old habit that even now, as a young man, Tomas still loved.

“But seriously… did Shang Tsung do anything to you?”

“No… I didn’t really see him. It was mostly Bi Han that was around.”

Tomas frowned, moving to sit next to you as he helped you lean against the wall on your medical bed. His silver hair was a mess, having been fluffed up by smothering you. Your hand reached up, trailing along the side of his face, admiring the small scars on his face while you fixed his hair.

“There. Now you look cute.”

“Hm I think I’m always cute… according to you at least.”

“Oh you are so getting when I’m better.”

You leaned against him, head leaning against his shoulder. Your hand drifted, grabbing his hand in yours.

“I promise to never do anything like that again.”

He turned his head, staring at you with his silver-blue eyes, a smile on his face.

“And I promise that while I’m around, nothing is going to happen to you my love.”

A/N: I feel like I did TERRIBLE on this but I’m glad I could do your request☺️ I like writing for everyone!

[marvelmusing]

A Marriage of Sins

Pairing: Forest Demon!Billy x Demon Hunter!Fem!Reader

Summary: When you hear of a demon living in an abandoned church in the woods, you know you need to investigate. But how could you know that the demon was just your soulmate waiting to marry you?

Warnings [18+]: smut, unprotected sex, dub con vibes (there’s no explicit consent given, but they’re soulmates so the reader gives in pretty easily), bondage, religious imagery, spitting, wife kink, praise kink, tiny bit of spanking.

A/N: not extensively proofread so sorry if there’s some mistakes.

My Masterlist

The church was abandoned.

That’s what the nearby villagers had told you. But as you push your shoulder against the dark oak door, light spills out towards you. The candles are lit and there’s a pleasant warmth that spreads through your body, urging you to step further inside.

Despite the vines crawling in through the cracks in the walls and the roots that are beginning to crush some of the pews, the church looks untouched by the world outside.

But there’s a reason why you’re here.

For a demon to inhabit such a sacred place, they must be incredibly powerful.

As you walk down the aisle, there’s a snap of broken glass being crushed beneath someone’s heel. When you turn, knife already in your hand, there’s no one there.

Continuing to venture further into the church, you stop at the altar, examining the contents laid out on the stone table there.

An ornate dagger, a small wooden bowl, two pieces of ribbon - one black, one white - both made of velvet. It looks like some sort of ritual is being prepared.

On a worn piece of paper, an incantation has been written in Latin and you almost make the mistake of reading it aloud. It’s then that you hear a soft chuckle, carried on a light breeze.

Heart pounding, you spin around.

The demon is tall, even as you stand on the slightly raised dais, he towers over you, his shadow creeping towards you as he steps closer.

His dark facial hair is trimmed neatly, his equally dark hair slicked back to reveal the deep brown horns sitting on the top of his head. Darkened eyes eyes roam over your figure as he continues to move towards you.

He raises a brow at the sight of your knife, then he smirks, his tongue tracing over his teeth as he tilts his head at you.

“An unconventional wedding gift, but thank you.”

“Wedding?”

He hums, his brows creasing lightly as he looks you up and down appraisingly. You don’t know why you’re standing still, waiting for his response instead of immediately sending him back to hell.

“What colour’s your underwear?” he asks.

You gape at him.

“What?”

The corner of his mouth twitches as he observes your shocked expression.

“You heard me.”

“That’s none of your business,” you protest.

He nods.

“You see, the prophecy said my wife would be clothed in white.”

Once again, he looks down at you and you follow his gaze. You’re wearing your usual hunting gear, khaki jacket with a black top and trousers, accompanied by your black boots and collection of knives tucked away in various compartments.

“And whilst I really want those fuckers down below to be wrong.” He steps closer, close enough that you could reach out and touch him. “I kinda hope you’re wearing something pretty underneath all that.”

Heart beating wildly in your chest, you attempt to slow down your thoughts. How does he know about your prophecy? You had sworn the seer to secrecy, she had vowed to tell no one about your soulmate - a demon of three sins.

Raising your chin confidently, you attempt to stare him down as you claim,

“You’ll never find out.”

He grins.

Goosebumps spread over your skin and your instincts finally kick in.

His fingers curl tightly around your wrist, the tip of your knife inches from his chest. He cocks his head aside, looking down at you with a smirk.

“This the first time you’ve fought a corporeal demon?”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you growl in frustration as you push harder against his grip with both arms.

“No.”

He breathes out a laugh, his dark eyes glinting with amusement as he pushes you backwards. His other hand curls under your elbow, giving him the leverage to hoist you up onto the altar.

Struggling against him, you continue to push the knife towards him with little success. He looks almost disappointed at your feeble attempt.

“I think you’ve forgotten something, demon,” you hiss at him. He raises a brow at you with a bored expression.

“Enlighten me then.”

“You’re in the mortal world, and this is my domain. I have the upper hand here.” You let go of the knife with one hand, calling out the words, “Flamma in manibus.”

Instantly, the flames from the candles dissipate, flooding quickly to gather in the palm of your hand. When he sees the fire blooming in front of him the demon lets go of you, disappearing into thin air.

Stunned, you stare at the empty church for a moment before you push away from the altar, taking a few tentative steps forward. Surely a little fire hadn’t scared such a powerful demon?

Then arms wrap tightly around your body, pulling you back against a firm chest. The flames in your hand extinguish as your arms are pinned down by his hold on you.

“Looking for something?” he purrs against your ear. As his nose traces over the shell of your ear you shiver, his lips hovering above the sensitive skin of your earlobe. “I gotta admit, you’re a smart one.”

As you attempt to tug away from him, his scent fills your senses. Is this demon wearing cologne? With every breath you take, more of his scent sends a burning down your throat that urges you to press your face into the crook of his neck and breathe it in directly from the source.

He smirks.

“You starting to feel it now?” You frown at him. “I’m impressed little bride, most people would be throwing themselves at me by now.”

Blinking in confusion, you turn and meet his dark eyes. When your eyes lock, you can feel the blood flooding down your body, warming your most intimate parts and stealing your ability to think clearly.

“You’re a lust demon.”

He nods with a wicked grin.

“Among other things.” At the sight of confusion filling your eyes he shrugs lightly before he admits, “I have my moments of wrath.”

A shiver runs down your spine. Most demons specialise in only one of the seven sins.

Typically you could sense it as soon as you interacted with them. But with this demon it appeared that physical contact was the only way for you to know what he’s capable of.

The pull towards him is indescribable.

Lust tugs at your body, urging you to turn around in his arms and let him kiss you. His perfect lips would feel divine on your body, his tongue tracing over your skin and his teeth leaving delightfully painful marks in their wake.

Wrath simmers under his skin, you can see the violence hidden in his dark eyes and the firm hold of his hands as his fingers tighten on your body. There’s a beauty in it, the darkness that lurks inside him, and you wonder what it would take to bring it out to play.

Underneath the pull of those two sins, there’s something else. A deep gnawing that settles in your own stomach, a wanting that hurts. The need to be the best, to have everything that you’ve ever wanted. Greed.

The corner of his mouth twitches when he hears you gasp in realisation. A demon of three sins.

“No one ever gets that far,” he muses quietly. “They just see me as a lustful temptation or a devil on their shoulder urging them to act on their darkest thoughts.”

A cool breeze ghosts over your bare stomach, making you notice that he had slowly unbuttoned your shirt. He slides his hand over your stomach, reaching up to cup your breast.

“They don’t see that greed is what really fuels me. The sex and the violence are just means to an end, so I can get whatever it is I want.”

His thumb circles over your nipple that hardens underneath the thin fabric of your bra as he continues,

“Now you’re a stubborn one, I can tell.”

The demon traces his other hand over the waistband of your trousers, tugging occasionally at the material. He clicks his tongue when the fabric doesn’t move to his liking.

“Are you going to tell me what you want?” he asks you. He dips his hand under the waistband of your trousers, running his fingers over your pantie-clad mound.

Sparks of pleasure flood through your wobbling legs and you shake your head at him, even as you whine desperately. He mimics your shaking head mockingly with a pout on his lips before he smiles.

“I think you want me to marry you. I think you wanna belong to me. Want to tie our souls together.”

His lips press a long line of kisses from the shell of your right down to the nape of your neck. With each brush of his lips, pleasure sinks into your body, your mind growing hazy from his words and his touch.

“I think you want me to fuck you over this altar. Make you mine. Stain your soul with my cock.”

A whimper leaves your lips as he slides your jacket and shirt down, dropping them onto the cold stone floor. His hand in your trousers still doesn’t move and a shuddering breath leaves your lips as you rock your hips forwards.

“I think you want to be my wife, hm?”

“What- what about you?”

He blinks at you in confusion, a small frown creasing at his brows at the sight of you looking so uncertain. Despite the flood of arousal and wanting you’re feeling, self consciousness stops you from giving yourself over to him.

“Do you want to be my husband?” you ask, almost shyly.

His eyes darken and in an instant his lips are meeting yours in a fierce kiss. Fingers curling over the back of your neck, he spins you around and hoists you up onto the altar.

A gasp falls from your lips at the chill of the stone surface against your bare thighs. He must have dematerialised your trousers at some point, though that fades away as he continues to kiss you.

“Fuck, yes,” he groans lowly. “Yes I wanna be your husband.”

Tugging at his dark clothing, you whine when it doesn’t budge and he chuckles. You blink once and by the time your eyes are open again his clothes are gone.

As your jaw drops at the sight of him, all lean muscle and scars, he takes the opportunity to tilt your head back, spitting onto your tongue. Shock prickles over your body as you moan wantonly. He grins as you swallow eagerly.

Stepping between your parted thighs, he reaches around your body with both hands, searching for the clasp of your bra. He finds it easily, but instead of undoing it, he rips it in half before tugging at the material and dropping it to the floor.

He dips his head down, tongue flattening over your hardened nipple before he takes it lightly between his teeth.

Arching into his mouth, you gasp and whimper as his hand provides your other breast with an equal amount of attention. The pads of his fingers are calloused and they prickle delightfully over your sensitive skin.

At first you grip onto the hard stone beneath you, but then you sink a hand into his hair which makes him groan. Encouraged by his reaction, you seize a tight fistful of his dark locks.

When your nails accidentally scratch one of his horns he growls deeply, tilting his head back to look up at you. The look in his eyes makes your whole body want to melt into a puddle, allowing him to reshape you into whatever he wants.

His lips move back up, trailing a line of harsh kisses over your throat.

“Well they were right,” he breathes against your lips before he kisses you firmly. “You were wearing white.”

Blinking, you look down at your torn white bra and the soaked white panties that are clinging to the wet lips of your cunt. He slides your panties delicately down your legs, pressing kisses to whatever part of you is closest.

His thumb circles your clit slowly and you whine loudly at the bare minimum you’re being granted. When you try to grasp his wrist as swats your hand away and his obsidian eyes flash with danger.

“Patience,” he warns you, and you can’t help but tease,

“I thought patience was a virtue?”

He growls.

Your knees land on the altar as he turns you around, your cheek pressing against the cool polished stone and you breathe in sharply as his cock presses against your sopping entrance.

He slaps your ass and you whimper, giving his restraint the final push.

He groans loudly as he pushes inside you, and your hands scramble for purchase, nails scratching against the stone as the sensation of him filling you so thoroughly overtakes your senses.

Once he’s all the way inside, he breathes out harshly, pressing his forehead between your shoulder blades. He picks up the black ribbon from beside you, using it to tie your hands in front of you.

He runs his hands soothingly over your shoulders, massaging gently before he uses his weight to pin you beneath him. Then he begins to fuck you.

Hands bound, body bent into the position of his choosing, you can do nothing but accept the pleasure he’s giving you. He swipes his thumb over your clit, and you clench hard around him as the head of his cock knocks against that spot deep inside you.

As you begin to near the edge of your climax, he speeds up and soon you’re squeezing tightly around his cock as your orgasm hits you. Tension fills your muscles as you clench with a groan, the aftershocks pushing your body through a violent wave of pleasure.

He growls lowly, gritting his teeth and taking even breaths as you twitch beneath him, feeling stunned from your sudden high.

When you finally relax, your muscles loosening with pleasure, he pulls out of you. Before you can protest, he’s turning you around to lie on your back with your bound hands resting on your stomach.

Then he picks up the white ribbon.

“You think you can manage a few knots?”

You blink at him, still dazed with pleasure. Then you realise.

You’re getting married.

The black ribbon currently tied expertly around your wrists represents his soul. The ribbon that he’s holding now represents yours. A pure, delicate white.

The aftershocks of your orgasm make your shake and you struggle slightly with the ribbon as you tie his wrists together with a little slack between them. He grins, using his bound hands to position his cock against your cunt for the second time.

He’s slower this time, urging you to take him into your body with a surprising amount of intimacy. He takes your face between both of his hands and you can feel the ribbon that binds his hands together as it brushes against the back of your neck.

His forehead presses against yours, allowing the two of you to share long kisses that steal your breath away as he rocks inside you. Rolling your hips against his, you hear him inhale sharply before he’s thrusting harder.

Soon, you’re both moaning desperately into the kisses. Your bound hands smooth up his chest, taking his chin between your fingers. The scratch of his stubble prickles over your fingertips.

He groans loudly as he feels you clenching rapidly around his cock and praise spills from his lips, making your head fuzzy with warmth.

“Such a good little wife, with a gorgeous little cunt. You’re gonna let me cum in you, aren’t you? Gonna let me fill my wife up.”

“Yes,” you breathe out against his lips. Then he slams his hips down hard. “Yes,” you cry into the empty church. “Yes please.”

“Fuck,” he moans. Your nails dig into his hips, scratching lightly as you try to ground yourself. But pleasure is already sweeping its way through your body, lighting every nerve on fire.

Legs shaking constantly, you gasp against his lips as he kisses you.

“Let go, little bride. Let me marry you properly. Give me another orgasm, you feel so good when you cum.”

Squeezing your eyes shut, stars bloom over your closed eyelids as your hips jerk wildly. Then you climax hard around his cock. A long stream of moans escape from your worn throat, as your cunt spasms frantically.

With a few more thrusts, you’re dizzy with pleasure and he spills inside you. He rolls his hips as he rides out his high, only stopping when your whimpers become too loud and your hands nudge him away.

Withdrawing his hands from you, he reaches down to untie the ribbon around your wrists. He breathes out a chuckle at the dazed look in your eyes, and he guides your fingers towards the loose end of his own bindings.

Still dealing with the toll taken on your body, a few weak tugs is all you can manage, but soon enough the white ribbon falls to the floor alongside the black.

He runs his freed hands over your wrists, easing any discomfort caused with a gentle brush over his palm. A kiss is pressed against your damp forehead, before he rocks his hips forward.

Tensing suddenly, you stare at him with widened eyes. Then he pulls out slowly and a confusing mixture of relief and sadness fills you, but you don’t have the energy to analyse your reaction.

He traces his fingers through your folds, pushing his thick spend back inside you. Heart still pounding in your chest, you almost don’t hear him as he says,

“My name’s Billy by the way.”

Between shuddering breaths, you manage a small laugh before you tell him your own name. He smiles widely, licking his finger clean as he looks down at you.

Billy murmurs your name softly, attracting your attention. As he leans closer, you thread a hand through his hair, then stroke a single fingertip against one of his horns.

He shivers.

Then he reaches for you, tracing his fingers gently over your cheek.

“My beautiful little wife.”

»»---------------------►

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch

Billy Russo Tag List: @blackbirddaredevil23 @rafaelakelley @theysayitscrazy @nyx2021 @skybridgerton @dragon-of-winterfell @chickensarentcheap @stardustmorozov @sweetwritingfanficfriend @witchcraftandwit @ladyofsoa

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny

[sunnynwanda]

Hi, how are you doing? I hope you’re finee❣️

Can you write a snippet with a huge fight scene and a lot of action (you can include some weapons or gadgets if you want!). Make the villain or hero very angry at their nemesis cause they feel too much tension between them. If you want, make it spicy. Ik it’s hard to put some suggestive things here but that’s exactly why i am curious to see how you will make it! No forcing tho, i would be happy with a fight only too

Two to Tango

Warnings: Suggestive. Slightly spicy. Language. Minors beware. P.S. 'Sternchen' means 'little star'.

They sense the weapon aimed at them, an imaginary red dot dancing over their strained back. Their body fails to match the speed of their gut feeling, causing them to turn with a seconds' delay. The electricity shocks their shoulder, piercing through their arm and shoulder blade. It hurts like a bitch, and with a loud hiss, Hero retreats behind a wall, cursing under their breath. Villain's triumphant cackle riches their ear a few moments later.

"Is our brave Hero scared of a little tickle?" Their tone is taunting, a smug smile undoubtedly tugging at their thin kissable lips. "And here I thought you could take it."

Hero grits their teeth in annoyance. "I'll show you a little tickle, bitch." It's a promise, not a threat. Hero doesn't know what they are going to do yet, but they intend to pay back tenfold for every single time Villain's weapon has fired today.

"Tsk tsk tsk," Villain sings, cocking their newest toy again. They were dying to test it for weeks now, and Hero seemed the best target to do so without actually killing someone. "Watch your language, Sternchen. We don't want to ruin your goody-two-shoes reputation now, do we?"

"This was the fifth fucking time you've zapped me tonight," Hero snaps. Villain came dangerously close to discovering their true personality this time, and - Hero was sure of that - Villain would live to regret provoking that revelation. "Fuck off already."

Today's patrol was meant to be a short round around the city. Hero was exhausted from the shit of a week they had and in desperate need of a break. They had intended to finish their round and spend the evening in bed, eating junk food and watching mindless rom-coms - a guilty pleasure of theirs. Yet here they were, hiding behind a wall with a half-numb arm while Villain closed in on them.

"And where's the fun in that?" Villain rounds the wall only to discover Hero long gone. They look around, confused and slightly on edge. Something tells them to avoid getting caught at all costs tonight. The shock effect from their gun didn't last all that long, but Hero's irritation sure did. Villain did not test their weapons to know for sure, especially not on themself. "Hiding from me, are you? It takes two to tango, darling. You're gonna have to come out."

When no reply follows, Villain pauses. They could bet they heard Hero's voice from this exact spot moments ago, yet they are nowhere to be seen. They scan the area, holding their breath to hear any shuffling of Hero's clothes.

Where the fuck did that fucker go? Villain thinks to themself, still too wary to lower their gun. They couldn't have just left, right? The floors sure look empty. Wait a second.

Villain fails to complete the thought when Hero lands behind their back with a loud thud, and before Villain can even register the situation, they are pushed face-first against the wall. Hero twists their arms harshly, pinning them near the small of their back and pressing one knee to the back of Villain's to effectively immobilize them. Their weapon clings on the concrete floor, sure to be scratched.

Villain should probably focus on what's gonna happen to them instead. Their cheek is flush against the cold stones, their chest heaving in sharp inhales from the discomfort of the position and suddenness of their capture. Shit, they were fucked.

"Hey, it's dusty here," they attempt to sound light-hearted but can feel the anger radiating off of Hero in raving heat waves. Definitely shouldn't have gotten caught. "You're gonna ruin my costume."

"Oh yeah?" Hero's voice is sheer venom that sends a chill down Villain's spine. They refuse to acknowledge the pleasure and anticipation it carries within. "Does it look like I fucking care?"

"You obviously don't," they bite back, earning a disgruntled huff from Hero, who steps on the handle of their gun with their toes, lifting it up into a position that allows them to grab it without releasing their hold on Villain. "You wouldn't dress like you do if you had any regard for fashion... or any damn taste, really?"

Okay, Villain knows they are in no position to be cocky at the moment, but they can't help their smart mouth. The fact that their comment earns a dark chuckle from Hero has nothing to do with the warm feeling in their stomach - it's pure satisfaction from a successful jab, nothing more.

Hero's breath fans over the shell of their ear in time to draw them back from the pointless argument with their mind.

"Want me to show you my taste then?" Hero purrs, but there is something sinister in the brush of their lips against Villain's jaw. They press their hips further against Villain's half-bent form and use a combat knife to rip a large cut through Villain's expensive leather suit.

"What the fuck?!" Villain's voice is incredulous. They look down in disbelief, trying to free their hands from Hero's grip in vain.

"Shut your mouth, or I'll keep going," the knife grazes against the exposed skin of their upper thigh, too light to cut but enough to send a shiver down Villain's leg. Hero was surprised at the rush of pleasure that shiver sent through their bloodstream, attributing it to the adrenaline from their battle.

You keep telling yourself that. Their inner voice is interrupted by Villain's actual one.

"Shit, fine," Villiain surrenders, as if there is any other choice at this point in their predicament. They definitely overdid it with the teasing today. It didn't help that Hero was in a mood, either. "Just stop."

"Good villain," Hero pats their cheek, withdrawing the knife from their thigh and going to release Villain's hands. It would have been all done because, honestly, Hero was exhausted and had no intention of retaliating today of all days.

It would have - had Villain had any control over their goddamn mouth, that is.

"Motherfucker," the word rolls past their lips before they can consider the consequences of voicing it. Hero's hold tightens around them almost instinctively, their leg returning to its position behind Villain's knees. If they thought they were fucked then, now they are fucking done for.

"You wanna repeat that?"The knife returns as well, only now it's against their throat, grazing their skin with a kiss of the cold metal. And Villain will be damned if they don't hear a rasp in Hero's voice. "I said repeat that."

"N-no," they breathe out, feeling a bead of sweat run down the side of their face and over their neck. They freeze when Hero kisses it, their tongue hot and wet against Villain's feverish skin.

They barely contain the whimper that threatens to spill past their lips when Hero drops the knife, instead wrapping their hand around Villain's throat. They squeeze harshly, choking a torn exhale out of Villain, and pull their back flush against their chest, another arm winding across their torso. It takes Villain a minute to register their hands are free of Hero's iron hold. Free yet entirely useless as they flex at the sensation Hero's tongue wrecks in its wake.

"It takes two to tango, darling," Hero whispers, nibbling on the sensitive spot beneath their ear. Villain's head drops against Hero's shoulders, exposing their neck to Hero's impatient mouth. They struggle with their mind, trying to come up with a response, but fail miserably upon contact with their own gun.

"Hero," they startle, twisting their head to look at their nemesis when a numbing pain pierces through their hip. "Fuck, fuck! That hurts!"

They jerk away, but Hero maintains their hold of them. Something tells Villain they would collapse to the floor had they not.

As if on cue, they let go of Villain's body, and Villain's knees buckled under them, muscles still numb from the shock of electricity. They lean against the wall, sitting down to collect themself. And that's one shot. How the fuck was Hero able to walk around after five?

Hero grabs their gun again, snapping it in half before discarding the pieces. Villain brings a hand to cover their watering eyes. They aren't sure what's causing them more distress - the pain imposed on them or the sensation ripped away from them. They expect Hero to leave and are determined to keep their eyes shut until they do, but when an arm snakes around their waist, their eyes fling open against their will. They perk up as Hero pushes another arm under their sensation-deprived legs, pulling them up in bridal carry.

"And here I thought you could take it," Hero murmurs, pressing another kiss to Villain's temple. Villain's irises are dilated, tears still pooling in the corners of their eyes. Their pettiness be damned.

"How are you fucking alive after those?" Villain questions, noting that Hero pauses, unsure where to take them - their apartment or Villain's lair. "I can't feel my legs."

"I'd much rather you said that for an entirely different reason," they mumble under their breath, but Villain hears.

"You wanna repeat that?" They let out an amused chuckle, staring at the thick blush creeping up Hero's neck.

"N-no," their voice is small. Villain finds it amusing after everything they took the liberty of doing to them. "I'll take you to my place in case you still need assistance. And to make it up to you."

"Uh-huh," Villain quirks an eyebrow but nods, a satisfied smirk finding its place on their face as Hero's blush intensifies. "Solely for that purpose."

Hi, love! I'm doing quite well, although busy - as indicated by my relative absense here. I hope you are fine too!

Can I just say I absolutely loved this request! It had my fingers itching to get to the keyboard from the moment I read it. I'm not quite sure if I've followed your idea but I still hope you'll like it. I sure had an absolute blast writing it... and I kinda love them. They felt exceptionally alive. Although, the hero/villain duos always do.

Thank you for the request and thank you to everyone for reading. Love you,

Sunny xo

Masterlist

Taglist: @marvellousdaisy @alltimelowing @lateuplight @surplus-of-sarcasm @betwist @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @enemies-to-idiots-to-lovers @miaowmelodie @thatonerandomauthor @hhabaddon @burningoutlikeicarus @daemonvatis @weepingcowboywolfbat @thelazywitchphotographer @kaiwewi @soul-of-a-local-bard @pigeonwhumps @aflyingsheepnamedrose  @thatneptune @ohwellthatslifesstuff @worldsfromhoney @thiefofthecrowns @crow-with-a-typewriter @qualityrabbitsoup @stargeode @villain-life @villainsblood

[ereana]

Wriothesley X Lyney - Take my coat

Lyney bit back a curse as another cold gust of air made his legs tremble from the chill. The outfit he wore for performances was gorgeous, Chiori had truly outdone herself, but it was not what he would have chosen to wear for a lengthy evening mission. Especially a mission that involved sitting in the middle of the ass end of nowhere staking out a rundown old farmhouse.

But he hadn’t had the luxury of choice. Father’s message to him after the show had been clear; the target was moving tonight and she wanted this situation dealt with before the morning. Lyney wasn’t stupid. 

In his haste to leave he had remembered to grab his cloak off the hook, admittedly after Lynette had told him to take it as he was about to jump out a window, but even that was inadequate for the conditions he now found himself in. It was meant for short walks through the city at night not to shield him from the sharpness of the wind’s bite as he huddled against a ruined section of stone wall.

It had been two hours and the only movement had been from a lost sheep who had wandered onto the premises and started eating the overgrown grass. The urge to use his vision is growing harder to ignore but he can’t risk the light revealing his position.

He pushes down his rising irritation as best he can and tries not to think of the hot meal that his siblings would be enjoying back home without him. All of this he could have born with only the most minor grumbling if it hadn’t been for-

“What did that sheep ever do to you? Is there some sordid personal history that I should be aware of?” 

For his temporary — the word felt like a prayer for salvation — partner. 

Duke Wriothesley. Lord of the Fortress of Meropide. Prison warden. And the most insufferable man that Lyney had ever had the displeasure of meeting.

He sat near the edge of the wall, occasionally peeking his head around the side to check the scene, wrapped in his usual coat that was undoubtedly better at keeping him warm than any piece of clothing that Lyney was currently wearing.

Lyney scowls at him. Because he can. Because there’s no-one here he needs to pretend for. Because all that donning his usual mask would do was make Wriothesley try to rip it off his face. The man had an odd obsession with denying Lyney the familiarity of the persona he’d spent years cultivating; provoking and prodding him until the anger that simmered underneath erupted in full force.

“You may not be familiar with the concept of a stake out, Your Grace, but a key element is remaining quiet and undetected.” Lyney says tightly, turning his eyes back to the farmhouse even as his focus remains locked on the predator beside him.

Wriothesley looks unimpressed. “Don’t give me that. We’re far enough away that whispering isn’t going to be overheard and there isn’t anyone the bastard could be working with that could escape the pair of us.” Another breeze of night air makes Lyney’s hands shake. “So what’s the story between you and the sheep.”

“Just because you have the attention span of a toddler doesn’t mean it’s my job to entertain you.” Lyney flexes his fingers and winces at the stiffness. 

“Funny, isn’t that exactly your job.” Wriothesley shuffles closer until Lyney can feel the warmth radiating from his body. “Or is the Great Magician too proud to extend his services to an ex-criminal like myself?” 

Every word is drawled out in that deep voice that sets Lyney’s teeth on edge like nothing else. The same voice that had once mocked him in the depths of that metal tomb under the waves and held his siblings’ lives over his head as a bargaining chip.

It was just his luck that the fucker they were after had to involve the Fortress; a merchant who had attempted to cheat both organisations and run away with a tidy sum. With Wriothesley’s boat being the only back-up plan that Fontaine currently had for dealing with the prophecy, Father was keen to keep things civil for the time being. When Wriothesley had demanded a joint endeavor to deal with the scammer she had acquiesced gracefully.

Lyney had bristled at his explanation where he outright stated he didn’t trust the Fatui not to take all the money for themselves but all that had earned him was an amused smirk curling across Wriothesley’s face.

I look forward to working with you Mr Lyney.

“Why are you even here? Surely there are hundreds of other guards you could have asked to do this.” He snaps, pressing back harder against the wall in a vain attempt to shelter from the wind.

Wriothesley chuckles and leans in until their shoulders brush against each other. He’s so stupidly big that he looms over Lyney even when they’re both sitting on the cold ground.

“Oh please, we both know if I’d done that you’d have the fool wrapped around your finger in five minutes flat. No, you’re too dangerous for me to give this anything less than my personal attention.” The way Wriothesley says dangerous sounds like a compliment, it feels like one with the way it warms Lyney’s cheeks.

He huffs and looks down at his hands, itching to summon a few sparks or a few cards to keep his fingers busy. The next gust of wind makes him shiver, the cold fully setting into his bones. If he gets sick he’s going to—

A heavy, warm familiar coat drops over his body. Instinctively he clutches at it, pulling it tight to his chest before reality reasserts itself and he looks over disbelievingly at Wriothesley. Who looks remarkably unbothered in only his shirt and black bandages over his forearms.

“What are you—”

“This is going to end in fighting no matter what happens. You know that. I know that. I’d rather not have to check that my partner can take care of himself or if he’s too busy shaking to properly shoot an arrow.” Wriothesley answers with a careless shug,

It’s a weak explanation and Lyney doesn’t miss the way gray eyes glint with satisfaction when he curls his fingers in the fur before twisting to put the garment on properly.

“Whatever.” He grumbles sourly, which does nothing to hide the way he wraps himself in Wriothesley’s coat, sinking into the blessed heat with a tiny sigh.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so terrible to keep waiting a little longer.

[probablyspooky]

Message Received (Predator x Fem! Reader Guardians of the Galaxy) Pt 2

tag list uwu: @the-official-slasher-fucker

Last  Next

Knelt down as if you were a table, knees placed upon uneven stones as an added level of pain to your punishment. Above your head you held a tray of lavish sweets and treats, you were being used as furniture until you proved yourself worthy to even serve the Grandmaster. Your body ached with pain, but fear and adrenaline kept you from shaking even harder than you were, god forbid you were holding a drink, then the Grandmaster would truly notice how wobbly his temporary table truly was.

The day was going just as any day was, the stadium was filled to the brim with those whos lives weren’t being used, those who were free. You could see the arena from your position as your head was tilted down, using the top part of your hair to keep the tray steady. Looking down into the arena you could see todays gladiators fighting to the death for the entertainment of anyone nearby.

The Grandmaster was currently chatting away with whatever reporter or loser who came to bask in his glory, his hideous shadow that kept others below him. Though people were free around him, there is the fear that he will just take you deep within anyone who dares come closer enough.

“Any plans for todays matches Grandmaster?”, the reporter asked, using a tablet writing down his words as if they were pure gold.

“Oh not much,” the Grandmaster chuckled, taking a treat off that tray you held, “I hope for one of my better trained pets to enter the arena today, you know his species actually fights for honor, so it’s kind of....hmm.. interesting to watch him fight for a blood sport like this”

That venom in his words, trying to make you break so you would be punished again, but you held strong, you needed to be strong, if you were punished again, surely it would affect him as well, and you did not want him to suffer along with you.

You whimpered as more pain set into your body, the gladiators cheered as another one has met their final blow. The winner is rewarded with a meal that isn’t just kitchen scraps, perhaps Grandmaster would even have it warmed.

“Oh boy, another pet gone,” Grandmaster sighed, and waved his hand towards one of his servants, this one is particular was in charge of sending in the next round of entertainment, “Send in those clowns for a bit”

The servant, whose name was Ryne, nodded, and swiftly turned, grabbing one of many, large velvet cords that lined the back wall of the showing box you were in. Taking the large cord in his hands, he pulled it hard, causing one of the bells to ring, this bell in particular rings to let the clowns know they need to put on a show for the crowd.

With sad eyes you watched him get rotten food thrown at him, sand kicked into his eyes, his dreads pulled, and his body cut because his blood color shines bright against metal.

Tears welt up in your eyes watching your love be tortured like this. Yet another set of eyes were watching you, the evil eyes of the grandmaster as he took enjoyment in your suffering.

He raised his hand, as to slap the tray in your hands away, but then before he could send the signals from his brain to make his body move, the grand doors to the viewing box opened, and in came the messenger who worked there, same as you.

“What?” Grandmaster groaned, turning his attention away from you.

“A ship has landed in the docking bay, the Guardians are here, and they’re looking for an audience with you sir...”, the messenger replied, standing straight and tall.

“Guardians huh?”, he scoffed, taking the tray off your hands, and dumping it onto the floor, “Did they say what they’re here for?”

“They said they received a message”

When the last breath of his sentence was said, your hair as grasped, and your head yanked back. You were forced into a semi standing and falling position, you cried, as the pain from your knees erupted, mixing with the main emanating from your scalp, it all was too much to bare.

“You little-” The Grandmaster started, but he was cut off.

“Hello Grandmaster,” a forceful voice started, many footsteps could be heard entering the room, and you felt the cool touch of the floor hit your body, as you were released from his grasp.

You opened your eyes to see who stopped you potential death from transpiring. A woman, green of flesh a Zen-Whoberi, who stood very tall and sure of herself, accompanying here was a human man, red jacket, who looked a bit aloof, a small walking talking racoon, a Kylosian, who was standing behind an insectoid woman, and lastly with them Groot.

The woman started, “I am Gamora, and this is Quil, Rocket, Drax, Mantis, and Groot, we are responding to a distress signal we received from someone on this planet, from specifically within your arena walls.”

“Oh, I see,” Grandmaster replied, covering his voice with a thickness of sugar, “I can not think of anyone who is in danger here so it must be a mistake on someone’s part probably. Sorry for wasting your time but you really should be-:

“With all due respect your...grand masterness?,” Quill interrupted, “ The message was clear enough to let us know that they are here, and we’re not leaving without them both.”

“Both?” Grandmaster pondered, tilting his head in your direction,” I can’t think of anybody who would possible be together here, all my friends here are criminals you see”

“What about her?” Drax stated pointing directly in your direction, “We walked in and you were handling her like she was a plaything, on my planet she would be a plaything, she's small and easy to move.”

“Oh (y/n) here is one of my favorites, my little bird you see, I’ve had her only a couple months now but she’s like family, we just rough-house a bit you see”

If his lies were flames from hell, the room would melt from the heat of his lies. You wanted to cry, you wanted to run towards your heroes, but there you stay, knelt in the bowing position, obediently, like a dog.

The Grandmaster started rambling about how wonderful he is, and how he takes these horrible ‘criminals’, and allows them to fight for their freedom and then some. He gathered the main group to his viewing box window to show the rodeo clowns currently cleaning up their mess of rotten fruit, props, and cleaning the blood off of themselves.

Gamora was no fool, she grew up everyday thinking of every possible way someone would try to ruin her life, she knew a shattered soul when she saw one, while the main cast were listening to the lies of the Grandmaster, she pushed Mantis’s hand towards you. 

The woman with the large round black eyes came to you, you didn’t dare look her in the eyes. you felt her hand touch the skin on the back of your neck, causing you to yelp out in fear, contact couldn’t have been longer than a second.

The Grandmaster was a narcissist, caught up in talking about how perfect and how generous he was to the pets he kept, but he was of course interrupted by you, you were really becoming a thorn in his side, but he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of you with his own hands, of course too messy...

Turning his attention to Mantis who jumped back from you, she looked embarrassed to having been caught. Gamora gave her an aggravated glare.

The Grandmaster gave the cast a place to stay for the night, and as the large doors shut behind them the Grandmaster turned his attention back to you, grabbing your face and dragging you off your feet he began to yell into your face.

“What did you tell that girl!?”

“Nothing sir!” you cried

Throwing you to the ground, he began to calm himself, thinking ‘rationally’, he only heard you yelp, unknowing that Mantis can read minds by touch, he flicked his hair back and composed himself.

“Very well...you want to cause me problems little bird?” he smiled, that toothy white grin,” I’m gonna make you tomorrows show starter”

With that he clapped his hands and you were taken to a cell, in complete solitude, there was no way out, no windows, and a door that disappeared with magic. You began to cry into the metal floor, begging for some sort of miracle.

The Guardians were taken to their rooms, which were rather lavish, Quill began to sprawl out into the bed.

“Well thats that” he said, taking in the freshness of the blankets and pillows that were placed upon the bed, “No one to save here”

“Shut it” Gamora shouted, turning her attention to Mantis,” What did you get out of her?”

“Not much..” Mantis ponder, bringing her finger to her lips in a remembering type face, “She is trapped here with her husband, who was currently in the arena when we arrived, but I didn’t get a name nor his face. But there was something weird about her thoughts...”

“I got an image of the arena when we came” Rocket said, clicking his eye piece a hologram of the arena was shining across the center of the room,” We have 5 clowns total in this jumbled mess,  a large praying mantis like our own, yet less human more bug, then this Xandarian guy good looks , good muscle too, then we have the Kronan, rock guy not husband material, a Kree weird that he’s here, and oh!” he stopped

“Oh?” Quill asked, “What does ‘oh’ mean?”

“He actually managed to capture a yautja!’ Rocket exclaimed,

“What’s a Yaujta?” Quill asked, looking around as if this is uncommon knowledge but everyone returned their glances because they already knew. 

“A Yautja is a interstellar hunter, they hunt all across the universe for glory and honor!” Drax crackled, “ Seems the one here is probably nothing but an un-blooded outcast!”

“We’re wasting time,” Gamora shouted, creaking the door open looking around to see any guards were currently patrolling the halls, or any spies were trying to get an earful of their conversation, “Rocket I need you to find out where they keep these clowns, I believe our little appearance here has put (y/n) in danger of the grandmaster, so we have to act fast if we’re going to save them both.”

Rocket grumbled and took a plug out from the back of his eye piece and plugged it into a socket on the table that was being used to power the lamp. Downloading the date from deep within the computers that are hooked up to the same electrical grid.

“Bottom level, he’s got a few cells down there but this one is the biggest, he’s got one or two smaller ones, but they’re on the far side of the compound, probably for trouble makers..” Rocket informed, sliding his fingers across the small tablet he held that displayed the grid.

“It’s probably safe to assume that (y/n) is probably in one of those if he does keep his trouble makers in there” Mantis spoke, her antennae twirling.

“Right” Quill said, trying to take back his role of leader, “Let’s wait till night fall, we’ll climb in from the side entrance in the main arena, get this guy, his girl and be out of here by morning”

They all agreed in unison, taking their respective beds and resting before this mission tonight.

In the male cell deep in the bowels of the compound, he sat there, pushing his finger in the hole, waiting for your small delicate one to curl into his like it has every night since you came to this place. Yet it never came.

A deep hole began to drag through his chest, fearing the worse he groaned, much to the annoyance of some of his cellmates. Who all began to stand up to tell this dark figure in the corner to pipe down and not to be a baby and cry.

None of them expected a seven foot tall beast of muscle to call out a battle cry and began to fight a few into the night,

Within solitary you had cried yourself to sleep, your tears causing your eyes to crust, your small frame in the corner, and your (hair type) clung to your face like glue. Memories of happier times began to replay in your dreams

You sat upon a log outside your makeshift home, a cave with wood for a door, some pots and jugs for storage, racks with tools, and dried meats. Watching your mate tear apart wood with his hands for fire, his body stained with the blood of the beast he had slayed for nourishment for you and him. His mandibles clicking together as he worked on his chores for the day. You couldn’t help but smile at him. You had been together for 3 years now, you met on your home planet, even though your species and his rarely ever mix, the two of you hit it off when you had nursed him back to health when he was found on your home planet, wounded. Typically he wouldn’t go for someone like you, as he could be much older, unknowing of the age difference between you two, he wouldn’t want to stick around in a typical situation, but he found himself being  pulled back to you. Eventually he presented you with a skull of the strongest beast on your planet as a offering for your hand. He was willing to go against what was normal for him to be with you, you accepted.

Yet here you were, probably set to die tomorrow, the cold fear of death loomed over you, but the small burning ember of hope still burned within your chest.

[laylalatter]

P-S-Y-C-H-O-T-I-C

TW: Hate sex, m*rder, kn!ves, bl00d, ki//ing, fucked in a way (or two)

a/n: I FINALLY FINISHED SOMETHING WITHIN A DAYYY!!

I don't even know what's happening, I did not proofread this. Just know it's based off MM2

Enjoy!!

'Oh?'

Minnie thought, as she peeked at the couple making out on the other side of the hallway. Supposedly, they were to hide from the killer, and surprise surprise, that killer happens to be Minnie.

Earlier, the group had revised a plan to end their fucked lives (due to the mass population hunting them down and swore to themselves to rid of their head from their bodies the second they see them) in a fun way, and since they didn't like the idea of people getting what they like, they wanted to get themselves killed in eachother's hands. And Yuqi, the iPad kid she is, had suggested to play a game of murder mystery.

So here Minnie was, brandishing a sharp knife covered in blood of her previous victim, Shuhua.

The couple were too busy with their session, striking Minnie with a plan. She walked up to them, stabbing Soyeon from behind deep enough for the knife to reach Yuqi, killing two birds with one stone.

She smiled, grinning at the sight of the unseperable lovers, being able to die in eachother's arms.

"In another life" Soyeon muttered, blood drooling out of her mouth as she makes herself comfortable in Yuqi's arms.

Soon enough, the couple's bodies went limp. And Minnie held her knife to her chest, piercing the knife on her heart.

She would've stabbed herself, if she didn't hear the vague footsteps.

'Right...' She thought. She realized none of the members had a gun with them, hinting that they are not the sheriff, so there should be one more left;

"Miyeon?" She said, not a shout but simple talking, yet enough for it to echo through the hall.

"Right here fucker." Miyeon said, aiming the gun.

Minnie turned swiftly, throwing the knife at Miyeon, successfully making the gun fall on the floor and out of Miyeon's hands.

Yeah, both of them wanted to die, but they still wanted the satisfaction of winning.

Miyeon tried to grab either the gun or knife, but was met with Minnie throwing herself at her, pinning Miyeon on the wall.

Miyeon fought, trying to push the Thai out of the way, yet she failed. Minnie pinned her firmly, even when Miyeon had already given up on escape.

Minnie finally let go of Miyeon, quickly grabbing the knife that's on the floor. Unfortunately Miyeon had taken the gun too, shooting at minnie in which she inevitably missed.

She reloaded the gun, then abruptly stops as she heard something the thai had said.

"I'll let you shoot me, on one condition." Minnie's shit grin, and she even dropped the knife on the floor.

"I can shoot you right now, you know?" Miyeon said, shooting at Minnie once again, eyes widening as she realized it didn't have any more ammo.

"For fucks sake."

Minnie replied with a laugh, "I know where it is," Minnie kicked the knife backwards, far enough and out of Miyeon's reach.

She held Miyeon's waist with one hand, and with the other hand she grabbed Miyeon's cheeks, squishing it.

"Give me 15 minutes to do anything, and I'll let you know where they are, if-"

"There's another fucking condition? That's not very fair for me is it?" Miyeon rhetorically asked.

"You don't really have a choice don't you?" Minnie threatened Miyeon with a light grip on her hair, enough to cause pain and enough to release a moan from the latter.

"I promise, after 15 minutes you could have the win, that is if you even want the win by then." Minnie chuckled.

"Whatever." Miyeon rolled her eyes, earning a harsh slap on her face. "Never fucking roll your eyes on me. Understood?"

"And why would I listen, am I some sort of doll, Minnie?" Miyeon teased earning another slap from Minnie, this time it hit her ass.

Minnie couldn't help it, "This brat really needs a lesson, doesn't she?"

Miyeon pulled Minnie in for a kiss, it wasn't hot nor romantic, it was hungry and harsh, just as how the two had always been.

Miyeon's pinned back at the wall, this time Minnie's knee in between her thighs, causing her to whimper in between kisses. "Min-" Miyeon tried to speak, but Minnie didn't waste more time and placed her fingers on Miyeon's core under her skirt.

"F-fuck-" Miyeon's mind was already going blank, already tired and succumbing to Minnie's desires. Minnie inserted her slender fingers into Miyeon, earning cries and begs from the older.

"Hharder- please— FUCK!" Miyeon cursed as Minnie's mouth latched on to her nipples, suckling on it as if she was some desperate baby.

It hasn't been 5 minutes and the older is already nearing her orgasm, all teary and trembling. She couldn't help it, it's too much, everything Minnie does to her is too stimulating.

Miyeon's legs shook, hinting she was so close to her earth shattering orgasm, that's when Minnie stopped all her movements, dropping Miyeon on the floor.

"Plea-please, Minnie-yah, baby, please—" Miyeon begged for the nth time, too focused on releasing that she didn't notice Minnie positioning herself between Miyeon, quickly latching on Miyeon's bulging clit.

Miyeon screamed, unable to form a coherent word, not even a coherent thought. It was just too good, someone as hot as Minnie sucking her? She must be dreaming.

Her knuckles were already white gripping on nothing, yet she wanted nothing more than to cum, to reach that peak.

Minnie continued to lick Miyeon's clit, going further down to insert her tounge into Miyeon's dripping cunt as she thumbed the older's core.

Miyeon bucked her hips, her body convulsing, she saw stars as she rode out her orgasm. Minnie kept her tounge inside Miyeon to allow her to ride out her high.

Once Miyeon's breathing had finally gone normal, Minnie stood up, taking something from her pocket.

"Now," Miyeon was still sensitive, taking a deep breath to calm herself. "Where are the am-" Miyeon stopped, her words getting replaced by moans.

Minnie had place a pink pill, a vibrator, inside Miyeon. "We're not done yet."

Miyeon wanted to cuss Minnie the fuck out, but she could barely even think.

Guess Minnie forgot about the 15 minutes thing, atleast they're both still alive.

How long will this last?

[yaboy-miz]

I have some COTL followers that I want to draw so bad but I have no idea how to draw furries so while I figure out how tf a snout works in a front or 3/4 view I’ll just describe them for now.

Haar was my first follower. They were a grey rabbit with white tufts of fur on their cheeks. I don’t remember their personality. Their name was actually lost for a while because of a weird glitch where all of my followers from before a certain point didn’t show up when doing a resurrection, but I never forgot their face. They started showing up again sometime after the update so now I have that record again. In my little bit of lore I have for them, they never got a grave because there were very few resources and their body was damaged in a way that would make burying them difficult (in the actual game I butchered them by accident while getting used to the controls), so the lamb gave them an unmarked stone with some loose things around it. Over time their name was lost to history and even the Lamb forgot, so when resources were plentiful enough that they could afford to give a centuries-old grave some attention they drew a picture of them from memory rather than writing their name.

Thebre is my oldest living follower and also my favorite. He’s also bugged in some weird way where he somehow lost all of his naturally occurring traits, which resulted in me getting soft locked whenever I selected him first in the mating tent. I don’t know if it’s been fixed but I’m sure as hell not gonna test that. He’s my spouse and im pretty sure he was one of if not the first that I married. This guy has died five separate times and it’s actually ridiculous. His first was via sacrifice because I had the Good Die Young trait and I didn’t want him to die in shame. The second was before the update that let them take off their necklaces because he had a skull necklace and I wanted to give him a gold skull necklace. The last three are because this dumbass managed to have his soul damned three separate times before the game was patched so that they’d return alive after you defeat them thrice. Two of those were because this fucker won’t stop drinking. I have a lot of lore for him that I’ll go into later but the one bit I will drop because it’s funny as fuck is that he somehow became lovers with every single god in the cult grounds except for Narinder, and that’s only because I’m married to both of them. This man fell for five different gods and I think that’s hilarious, so in his lore I decided that he has a one sided crush on all of them but doesn’t make a move because he’s old enough to remember who they are.

I have more but they don’t have much lore so I’ll cover them later.

[honestsycrets]

Poll 9.22

Hello everyone, giving y'all the choice between two different works I have been working on:

Snippets are as of yet, unedited.

Requests:

1. How about a miguel o hara md x nurse reader 😭

Hi! Can you do a Miguel x f!reader fic where they're dating? It's expensive to live in Nueva York and the reader overworks herself at a thankless job with a pervy boss but she can't find work anywhere else. She doesn't tell Miguel about her bosses advances because she doesn't want him to worry about her but the signs are getting harder to hide.

2. Still, I offer you this: Sheriff Miguel.

He's someone all the women have their eyes on, and he'd have his eyes on them, too, if he were younger. But he has a baby girl to worry about, a runaway wife to forget, and a town to keep an eye on, especially when a woman from the big city pays the little down a visit.

He meets her when he loses Gabriella in the market's crowd, only to find her tugging on a fine dress belonging to a fine woman.

1.) “You’ve been staring at this same lecture for two hours.” He offers the cool mug that you abandoned in the kitchen, dragging your feet to the couch and zoning out to the lecture he quickly clicks off. The remote clicks as he sets it aside.

“That’s how you study,” you murmured, despite the fact that the PowerPoint on your lap was unmarred. A highlighter queen, you loved to sully the pages with vibrant pens and highlighters til they looked more like poppy birthday invitations than school notes. His desk was chock-full of the heart-shaped sticky notes that you slapped on his lunch every night like clockwork. He kept every last one.

“Not how you study,” Miguel throws his arm over your shoulders, forcing you to tip against his side. You fell into the warmth that was his body, your PowerPoint clattering onto the floor. You don’t bother to pick it up, rubbing the heel of your palm into your swollen eyes. You were crying.

“I’m just tired, Miggy. Patients die on the floor every day.”

“Happens when you work hospice,” Miguel remarks. “There’s an opening in step down.”

“Ya sé. I tried.” You turn your face into his naked chest, your soft fingers curling along his dark skin. “No one else will work with me for school. Especially not with clinicals coming up. I just… need to make it a year.”

“Listen to me and quit,” Miguel suggests. “I can take care--”

“We’ve talked about this. I don’t want Stone’s blood money. The drugs he makes—”

Damn, as if his degree meant a whole lot of nothing. Miguel turns his hand over yours, grazing his thumb over the chunky diamond set in your newly acquired engagement ring. It isn’t as if he has a great relationship with the fucker, but… if it meant alleviating the stress that you wore everywhere, he’d make something of it.

“—addictive.”

“Let me take care of you.”

“I said no."

2.) “Yes, mami, Sheriff O’Hara. Do you know old Sheriff O’Hara?” You sure can talk pretty. He clears his throat, pulling on the sloppy tie that feels a whole lot hotter all of a sudden. Or maybe it’s been that long since he’s been with a girl. It isn’t like he can particularly go to the saloon and pick any one of those girls that followed him around up. He might have a night sitter for Gabriella but-- the town wouldn’t continually elect a loose man. Miguel’s eyes catch the flickering gold of a bumblebee locket on your chest, tracing its wings' curve. “‘Course she does, she’s mine. I lost her up in the crowd flow.” “Where is your wife? You can’t tell me you’re the kinda man that does it all, can you?” Where is your wife? The question tormented him. He could do it all. Managing the sloppy, slow thieves and putting down the occasional drunken brawl. At the end of the night, he came home to his empty home and saw his little girl. Miguel’s gaze danced along the puffy clouds in the sky. The fluffy clouds drift the same as usual, the same old slow draw, unknowledgeable about the change in his life. He suppresses the distant call of longing fluttering in his chest. “Ain’t got a wife. She ran off on me with some wolf. Usually, I got a sitter for my girl but, she came down with a fever.” “A wolf?” you repeat after him, “Why, you mean a gentleman?” “If you wanna call him that. He was an outlaw.” “I’m mighty sorry, Sheriff.”

[theundeadgospel]

Long ears pin back in absolute exasperation as the vampire trudged into the gardens of her formerly owned Castle Drachenfels.

Now overran with a mass sum of Rotblood since her untimely departure, the blood magic wielder had no choice but to reclaim her throne and start anew with refurbishing and building a platoon of vermin to call her own. Life was never too kind to her — there was always SOMETHING wrong, SOMETHING to mend to her will. And if the Gods insisted on prying yet another good thing away from her cold, dead hands after throwing her to HELL and back — quite literally —, she was going to personally find a way up to the divine heavens to SMITE EVERY LAST GOD HERSELF.

Throwing open the doors and interrupting the zombified men during their feasting, all disease-clad eyes were now on her. Without her battle armor, Betty looked no more intimidating than any ordinary woman — but it was her usage of forbidden magic that truly spelled DANGER. Coupled with an UNBRIDLED RAGE that had been boiling up inside her rancid soul for the past year or so, the red head was wasting no time in introducing a clean slate — and making a decent splash in the making of it.

Just as the initial shock wore off, one of the men let out a garbled SHRIEK before charging forward with his hatchet, aiming for the vampire’s head — only to be gripped by the throat and thrown hard into the concrete below, splattering blood messily across the stone. Her heel then proceeded to curb stomp the already putrid head into an unearthed edge of land next to his prone body, a series of reverberating CRACKS echoing through her property as teeth shattered and blood asphyxiated the Rotblood’s throat. Kicking the carcass aside, Betty summoned Spinemangler and pointed it at the remaining three,

“ Privet, revolting fuckers. You have something of MINE that I would like back. This is MY castle that I have oh so graciously allowed you to camp out in and redecorate without my permission — and now, it is time for your departure!

GET. OUT. “

Pivoting her toned arm back, the vampire swung her giant battle axe as hard as she could — watching as the large weapon boomeranged across the living space to embed itself into the second and third men, impaling and pinning them to the back wall. The last Rotblood stared at the pile of formed viscera on the wall, the barely functioning gears in his mind palace slowly acknowledging that he was somehow outnumbered by a single undead — at a second too late.

A searing, blinding hot agony abruptly shoots through the amalgamation’s body. The sound of SIZZLING AND CRACKLING internally followed by the THUMP of his frame colliding with the ancient floor, blood rushing out of nearly every orifice as Betty stood above him — activating her signature magic. Pointed claws envelop his cheeks to SQUEEZE like a stress ball, digging downwards to RIP AND TEAR SUPPLE FLESH while maintaining hard eye contact,

“ I am SICK AND TIRED of relentless fighting, only to be rewarded with NOTHING BUT LOSS. Do you understand how LONG AND HARD I FOUGHT TO GET TO WHERE I AM? SPITING THE GODS, CLIMBING THE RANKS, BECOMING A WARLORD, ONLY TO RETURN AND FIND MY TERRITORY VANDALIZED BY A BUNCH OF INSIGNIFICANT, CRAWLING ROACHES? “

Blood pooled down a now melting face, coating her pale hand in the dark, thick substance. In the background, the previous liquid shed began to evaporate from the ground and twist into blood vines that WHIPPED AND SLIT at all flags that represented Norsca, DECIMATING every piece of evidence that the Rotblood ever existed in Drachenfels. The Rotblood she held was gradually sinking in place as his body was drained of his own life force — having it SQUEEZED AND BOILED out of him.

“ — And my own clan — Clan Fester and my now LATE Lord Rasknitt — was SLAUGHTERED while I was absent! Because without their amazing commander guiding them while Rasknitt was off sticking his furry COCK in a swirly time machine, those stupid FUCKS GOT THEMSELVES ALL KILLED! BY A RAGTAG GROUP OF MISFITTED ADVENTURERS! A WHOLE CLAN EXTINCT — BECAUSE OF FIVE FUCKING SHIT STAINS! “

With all of the blood drained from his now deflated head, Betty SQUASHED it like a pumpkin and tossed it into the table, shattering precious porcelain. No more vermin of hers to clean up the mess by licking her wounds and devouring the trespassers’ corpses. No more gravelly laughter and victorious triumph.

It was all gone.

Breathing heavily, Betty slumped down into her heavily defaced throne chair, shakily bringing a cup of wine to her lipstick-smeared lips. The taste of deteriorated copper burned her throat — as did the tears threatening to spill over the GUILT AND GRIEF threatening to swallow her whole. Silver eyes then caught a glimpse of the branded symbol somewhat making itself known from her ragged sleeve, now rolling it up fully to get a better look at the formed scar.

Clan Moulder — right. The symbol that was bestowed upon her not out of respect or gratitude, but TREASON. Bitter reminiscences of when Grey Seer Rasknitt had sent her out to Clan Moulder to retrieve more information undercover since she was already close with Throt — only to fumble last second out of a GNAWING REGRET for doing such a heinous thing to her closest friend. And in a fit of RAGE AND AGONIZED BETRAYAL, the Master Mutator beat her within an inch of her various lives before scorching his symbol into her flesh as a permanent reminder. And yet, in spite of all this, the two mad scholars still reconciled and always managed to collaborate once more before parting ways — the red thread tying them together not by wrists or hands, but by their throats and claws.

Skimming her digits over the marking, Betty then stood on shaky feet, slowing her breathing. It was better than nothing. She needed some sort of protection until Drachenfels was restored and filled with more of her own trained men.

With that in mind, the undead exhaustedly dropped her cup of wine and headed in the direction of Clan Moulder, the rich beverage tangoing with spilt blood.

[thesoftestpunk]

Anyone have tonsil stones before bc what the fuck was that 😐 I assumed it was an ulcer from reflux because I’ve not been good at all this week with my food 💀

The two big issues with me getting tortured with one is that if there’s anything that shouldn’t be on or in my body, I can Not stop thinking about it once it’s been discovered. Like pimples or ingrown hairs gotta go, even if I make a sore in the process. And even tampons stress me out bc nothing should be inside me that long. (We’re not even gonna get into the toxic shock syndrome of it all)

So of course the second I discover the tonsil stone, I must do everything in my power to rid this evil from my body.

Except.

I have the most sensitive gag reflex known to man. I’m sure dentists hate me because of this. So simply using a finger or qtip just won’t cut it. But I try anyway and I can’t get past my last molar teeth without gagging. I try sneaking up on it by sliding along the inside of my cheek or tongue but no dice. I’m gagging so much I’m crying and it’s hurting but I also know that coughing is gonna help the thing get loose. And this motherfucker is tucked in deep. I had to flex/constrict my throat muscles in a way that if I held it longer than 10 seconds I’m gagging anyway but it was the only way I could fully see the bastard.

In the end, I resort to using my waterpik because I just. Can’t. keep. gagging. My poor stomach (the stomach that just had food put into it!!!) is cramping from trying so hard to not yarf. I got the tip(?) of the stone out, but it was mostly plaque, I presume, not even calcified. I want to try and get this fucker out without swallowing it because it’s caused me pain for almost a week and I had no fuckin idea it was there. I wanted to look into its disgusting little face and whisper ‘fuck you’ before tossing it into the trash.

Unfortunately hitting it with the water pik again triggered my gag reflex and it must have shot into the stratosphere that is my throat/esophagus because nothing was spat into the sink from what I could see🥲 I had a fuckin Mouthful of water. I hope it either rots in my stomach, or is stuck in my drain living out it’s sad existence.

[notasapleasure]

OTP meme: Jerott/Danny bandverse?

Yay, thanks! Tried not to base my answers on yours lol, but in general I agree XD

Which one is more fond of scary movies: Danny! Popcorn crunches through the tensest/grossest scenes with a feral grin.

Which one gets the most excited about Halloween: Also Danny – costumes! Parties! Getting to make Jerott dress up as some kind of sexy ghoul!

Which one would be more likely to survive the apocalypse: I think both of them could kick the apocalypse’s arse, frankly.

Which one would literally kill for the other: Both, if need be – but I think Jerott would be surprised at how quickly Danny would commit if it came down to that. Danny knows without a doubt that if GRM escaped from jail, they would be ready and willing to take that fucker out if he came anywhere near Jerott again.

Which one likes to scare or startle the other: I think Jerott has a silly side that likes to sneak up on Danny while they’re cooking or something, because Danny’s usually so unflappable, but Jerott has opportunities to cause flapping that no one else does. And Danny’s so cute when they squeak and jump in Jerott’s arms >:3

Which one is more likely to need comforting when they get spooked: Well, per the previous question, I think Danny. Jerott claims not to get 'spooked' - the rats in the Paris metro are legitimately gross, Danny, not cute!

Which one always puts on a brave face: Both, in different ways. Both are used to hiding things about themselves/negotiating society’s assumptions, and they can both do a resting bitch face that would turn you to stone.

Which one would be more dangerous if they suddenly became violent: Depends, but unarmed, out of nowhere, probably Jerott, who’s a seasoned brawler – Danny is more a ‘hide behind my seven-foot drag queen friends and yell taunts’ kind of fighter. (shooting GRM in the face is a different matter, should it be necessary)

Which one would be more likely to commit a crime: I think both have committed a fair few in the various countries they’ve lived/travelled in. Danny would be most level-headed about it, whether it was something minor or a body needed hiding; Jerott would act in a rash way and then freak out.

Which one believes in ghosts: Both, in certain ways. Jerott’s are powered by guilt, while Danny has a fairly open approach to spiritual matters, like you described for r63 Danny, Kay.

Which one likes to watch spooky shows on television: I think they probably start watching ‘real life’ hauntings/ghost hunters with a huge amount of scepticism, expecting to make fun, but then they each get drawn in by how ‘realistic’ it is and end up clinging to each other with the jump scares. If they watch TXF together it always ends with Jerott saying how sensible Scully is and Danny doing the whole mocking thing about how can she not Believe when she’s seen so much spooky shit? In reality, they're both Mulders anyway, Jerott just feels he needs to defence Science because of his dad/alternative career option.

Which one would propose the idea of holding a seance: Danny, for the aesthetic/because a friend who’s a medium needs a venue. Like the TV shows, they might start off sceptical but end up impressed by the experience.

Which one has nightmares more often: Jerott’s are more…narrative. And memorable. Danny probably has lingering unease that surfaces in their dreams, but not like the kind of wake-up-sweating-I-thought-Gabriel-was-sitting-on-my-face kind of dreams Jerott has.

Which one would want to explore a real haunted house: Jerott, to prove Danny wrong. He ends up shrieking, Shaggy from Scooby-doo style, and jumping into Danny’s arms. Danny never ever lets him live it down.

[lang-rangler-enjoyer]

langmaxx for the writing 👀 nothing in particular but they 👁👁

I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I JUST WASNT HAPPY WITH IT FOR THE LONGEST TIME

(still kinda iffy on it but whatever)

warning for implied sex and disgusting horrible self-indulgent fluff

minors dni

Maxx is awake. 

His first thought is that it’s gotta be like three in the fucking morning, considering he only fell asleep at midnight and it’s still dark out. 

His second thought is that there’s a weight on his body that wasn’t there when he fell asleep.

His eyes flick down to his chest.

There’s a warm body wedged between his arm and torso, laying a head of brown matted hair on his chest. 

The fucker must’ve wormed his way in there while Maxx was sleeping.

This isn’t the first time Lang’s spent the night in Maxx’s cell. He knows Maxx doesn’t appreciate this kind of shit. 

He should push Lang away. He has a reputation to uphold, especially in a place like this. 

For some reason, though, he’s hesitating to go through with it. 

Maxx cranes his neck to look out the cell bars. No guards. No witnesses. 

No damage to his reputation, as long as no one finds out. 

Keeping his eyes trained on the prison outside, his hand slowly, cautiously, moves to rest on Lang’s waist, just above his briefs. 

Trying to shove Lang off him would just be a hassle, and it’s…more comfortable, like this. 

His ring finger finds the raised bump of a scar. Absentmindedly he traces it, four inches from the bottom of Lang’s ribs to his navel. It feels like a knife wound. Briefly, Maxx forgets their whole situation and thinks about asking him about it in the morning. 

He thinks about being back in Port St. Lucie. Letting his guard down like this wouldn’t be so dangerous once he’s living in his own house again, with real privacy and bodyguards on call. His thumb finds another scar over Lang’s ribs, feeling rougher and more recent than the other. Things could be safer for both of them in Maxx’s house. 

That last idea puts some burning, twisting feeling in his guts, and he stomps it down. 

He lifts his head and looks down at Lang, wanting to be distracted. A stray strand of hair has fallen over his face, and every time he breathes out it wafts up a little, like one of those paper strips you tie to an AC so you know it’s on. 

For whatever reason, it makes Maxx smile a little. 

He quickly glances out at the rest of the prison, and then reaches his other hand over and tucks the strand behind Lang’s ear. 

Lang scrunches his face up at this, and Maxx knows he’s woken him up. God dammit. He briskly removes his hand from Lang’s waist. 

Slowly, Lang tilts his head to squint up at him. His sleepy expression and dewy eyes make him look even more like some weird kind of gecko than usual. 

“...th’ fuck are you doing?” He mumbles. 

Maxx grits his teeth, already on the defensive. 

“Get the hell off me.” His tone is stone cold. 

Lang doesn’t get the hell off like he’s supposed to, snaking an arm over Maxx’s torso. 

“Fuck off,” Lang groans, “It’s cold as shit in here, I’m just trying not to freeze. You think I like this? You smell like a fucking morgue.” 

It’s August. It’s not cold at all. 

Maxx opens his mouth and almost ruins everything by pointing out the obvious. He stops himself just in time. To call him out on his lie like that, to acknowledge what they both know is bullshit, would unravel their whole relationship. He quickly picks something else to bitch at him for. 

“Quit clingin’ to me, fuckwad, you’re makin’ it hard to breathe.” 

The game resumes as normal. Lang huffs and tightens his grip. 

“Good. Suffocate.” He mumbles against Maxx’s chest.

“Don’t overstay your welcome, skank,” Maxx mutters, but there’s barely any bite to his words. He’s getting tired.

“Go fuck yourself,” Lang mumbles, settled and content in his new position. 

Maxx yawns. 

“Fuck me yourself, coward.”

Nobody says anything after that. Maxx waits until Lang’s breathing is even enough that he’s definitely asleep to rest his hand back on his waist.

[illgiveyoumygavichal]

Uh kinda datv spoilers here cause I need to be excited and my gf doesn't appreciate my enthusiasm.

I'll probably always save Terviso because, measured up to Dock Tock, it has distinctly less defenses.

This game is weirdly long and short... like, it's shallow and relies heavily on big lore reveals so it's alot but it's also like... we're barely tipping our toes in it. Everything happens so quickly it's kind of a 'blink and you'll miss it' but trying to build up your companions relationships takes so long... idk maybe it's been too long since I marinated in a bioware game.

I do feel cheated (which is cheapening the story for me) over the lack of carry-over from the previous games. Sure, the characters from Origins outta be old fuckers by now but I still wanna see the things I worked hard for to be the big, notable, in-universe events they were! Sure it's to encourage new comers to join the franchise but they could've done a cool artsy narrative portion at the start to introduce newcomers and provide an in-game section to shape your world without needing the keep. Kinda like an interactive film. It doesn't help that, in this game, they're tying off so many loose ends and big mysteries that they aren't gonna have much left to build future games off of.

Also am I a freak for wanting a more casual, longer winded dragon age game where I actually get to experience my character and companions building lives around each other? I'm craving for some hard slice-of-life from fantasy games lately and idk if that's my biological clock or what.

Oh yeah, and I kinda noticed something about the four races which ties into the revelations from solas and harding in datv so... yeah, it'll be the last portion of this rambling so skip it if you don't want anymore kinda-spoilers.

So, each of the four races can be represented by elemental affinities that likely hint at their origins. With lyrium being the blood of the titans, and the titans being stone, then dwarves are earth. Then we learn that the elves are spirits made solid by the stone, making them air. We've already assumed the qunari to be descended from dragons, and even the qun is enough to say they're fire as fire is also the heart and body and the qun involves a lot of self-discipline and training of the body. So that leaves humans with water, ever flowing and can find a place to fit in almost anywhere. Makes you wonder if dragon age will ever tackle the mysteries of the ocean or any nations far beyond the waters of thedas. Maybe there'll be Leviathans.

Edit to add: i just miss my boy cole, i fucking loved him and wished we could kinda romance him... also when can we have an mc who isn't immortal or is possessed or something fantastical???