#this is absolute nonsense but s on the mind

[cyborgmagpie]

I don't think any would make it as is the Myth, but yk. You pick who's Orpheus and who's Eurydice.

[profound-bouquetbird]

i would absolutely ADORE some daisuke smut. i feel as if he'd have a praise kink...

Guess I'm writing smut now 🤷

These headcanons are mostly gender neutral but since I'm a girl its written from a female perspective, if one of you request these headcanons with a male s/o it's no big deal! I'll write it :)

Also, I will be following a nsfw alphabet list but in a crappy order 👍

Also, I did use a picture instead of a gif, sue me.

❥ Starting off with the headcanon you already mentioned: I do believe Daisuke has some sort of praise kink. He would love to get praised for doing the simplest of things, but he doesn't get a hard on every time you praise him, only if it's in a dirty context ���️

❥ It will take a bit to get this man going. If you decide to drop subtle hints, he will get it but will ultimately think it is all in his head, so you have to be a bit straight forward most of the time. Example:

"Gosh... My head hurts." Daisuke complained, taking a seat next to you on the couch. A bright idea suddenly enters your mind as you smirk to yourself, turning to your boyfriend, Daisuke, with a suggestive look.

"I know what can cure a headache..." You stated, resting your head on his shoulder with a wide smirk. Daisuke stares at you for a moment, as if to process your words.

"... You'll grab me a painkiller?" He said after a couple moments of silence. That ultimately killed your mood as you let out a loud sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose in exhaustion.

❥ Yeah... be a bit more straight forward.

❥ As for the top or bottom dilemma, he'd be a switch leaning bottom. Why leaning bottom, you may ask? It just feels right.

❥ He can be a top if asked, but he'll still require huge amounts of praise and reassurance to make sure he's doing a good job. He prefers to have you on top so that he can feel of use, since you're the one that knows your body the best. But he does have occasional bursts of dominance where he is actually being a soft dom. Also yes, if he were to be a top he'd be a soft dom., argue w the wall.

❥ He is vocal in bed, and when I say vocal, I mean it. If he's not moaning and groaning, he's babbling nonsense into your ear. It doesn't even have to be sexy 😭. He would just be whining about work or a hard video game level while he pounds into you or when you're riding him.

"Swansea was... mhn- so rude today." Daisuke panted, gripping onto your hips tightly as you bounced up and down.

"Tell me more, Hon." You moaned above, quickening your pace as you rested your hands on his chest. He let out a couple of groans and moans before continuing to whine about how bad his day was.

❥ As for his favorite position? Doggy. He's a simple man. Hitting it from the back and pressing up against you from above while biting onto your shoulder to suppress his moans? What more could a man want.

❥ Even though he's not often in that position, it's still one of his favorites. He probably suggested to do positions you haven't done before just to see if they feel good or bad for you two. As I mentioned, he's eager to please and wants what makes you feel best.

❥ Stamina? Average. He could go two to three rounds without a problem, but after the third he'll feel overstimulated and tired. If you're still energetic and want more, he'll eat you out/suck you off until you're satisfied.

❥ What about aftercare? The king of aftercare... in his own special way. He would continuously ask you what you need, what you want, what he should do, is he hurting you? He's sorry if he is. Meanwhile you're lying there, barely able to comprehend his words from how fast he is speaking. After a while you two eventually get into a routine and he doesn't bombard you with questions as often.

❥ What about experience? He has had a couple of girlfriends before he met you, but it only led to make out sessions, nothing more. Unless you count his own hand as experience, I wouldn't put him very high on the list.

❥ What about how they are in the moment? Serious or silly? I'd say he leans towards silly more, but he can be serious when the time calls for it. As I mentioned previously, he rants about dumb stuff and on a couple occasions you had to stop what you were doing to laugh.

❥ As for where you two have sex, it mostly stays in the bedroom. If you're on the ship, it definitely stays in the bedroom. But when you're on land/in the comfort of your own home? No surface is safe if he's horny enough.

❥ As for his kinks, he doesn't have many. As I mentioned, praise in one, but on the list also falls blindfold sex, gagging, maybe spanking, and maybe a bit of hair pulling (both his and yours).

❥ Oral? He doesn't love it, nor does he hate it. As much as he wants to please you, he prefers getting head than giving. Don't get him wrong! He enjoys giving you head too, but even he has to be selfish sometimes. He'll ask for head in the most random times too, mostly because he's messing around. But if you accept? He was serious all along! I don't know why you would think otherwise 😁.

You were just sitting in the lounge area, already being done with your chores for the day and just waiting to be given a task. Though, your boyfriend, Daisuke, also seemed to be done with his tasks, taking a seat next to you in silence.

That silence was soon broken as Daisuke leaned into your ear with a shit eating grin.

"Wanna give me head?" He asked quietly, setting back down. He just wanted to fluster you because captain Curly was also in the room. You looked back at him, completely unphased as you shrugged

"Sure." That took him by surprise, his own face turning pink instead of yours as he looked around sheepishly. He quickly, yet gently grabbed your wrist before pulling you into a more secluded area.

❥ This man is a roller-coaster when it comes to that type of stuff. He would tease you to no end, but when you actually tease back? How could you! Now he's all red and flustered >:(

❥ He's awful when it comes to taking care of himself down there. It's not like he has a jungle, but his hair is just cut weirdly, and he doesn't know how to take care of certain parts. If you offer to help him, he'll be embarrassed as hell and would initially refuse, but after a bit of convincing he would cave.

❥ He has stolen your underwear at least once to see if it gets him going, which it kind of does but he is overwhelmed with embarrassment and overall feels bad. If you're a woman, he would grab a bra to recreate those videos you see on TikTok of men pretending to be flies, He even tries to put it on for a bit.

❥ As for his pace, it again really depends. Though he can get off by being slow, he does need a bit more roughness in order to finish off properly. Not full on pounding into you until your legs go numb, bit just enough (if you suggest the prior, he wouldn't be totally opposed, but you'll have to reassure him a shit ton during it and after).

❥ He thinks extreme dirty talk is cringe, change my mind. This man cannot take you nor himself seriously while trying to talk dirty like in the movies.

"Oh- yeah? You like that? You li-" Daisuke cut himself off with a loud wheeze, immediately stopping with his thrusting as he covered his mouth to laugh to himself.

"Don't laugh-" You tried to scold, but ultimately caved and began laughing as well.

"I can't- 'm sorry--" He wheezed once more, being overwhelmed by embarrassment at his words.

---

Thats all folks!

[foldingfittedsheets]

I’ve been fired exactly once in my life. In my early twenties I was working at a pizza place. The pizzas were artisanal, thin crust and personal. They’re a huge chain now but when I first started the company was in its infancy. It was the wild west of management, and the core investors would frequently stop by to check on things. One of these people was this round little man with rage issues. A knock off Danny Devito with no charisma at all.

His favorite thing to do was to come in on a Friday or Saturday night. We'd be at our stations: taking orders, making pizza, manning the oven, finishing orders off, running the cash register. He'd shove his way onto the line and start rearranging people. "You, get off orders and work the cash register, you come over and make the pizzas!" With a line of customers snaking out the door he'd throw off all our grooves and rattle us.

Then, inevitably, a mistake would happen.

When it did he'd call the person over and say, "Hey c'mere. You're fired." Just like that. No inflection, just a flat "You're fired." It was absolutely a power kink, and because of his involvement the average turn over was three months. You were a veteran at five months.

One night there was only three of us manning the front. I took an order than went to the cash register to ring them out before I made the pizza. This horrible man watched that then called me into the back. I didn't know if I was about to be fired. But I wasn't. In fact, he had one other move besides firing people. He yelled.

In the back he absolutely lost his mind screaming at me for being on the cash register. I'm talking veins popping, spit flying, red with rage, this man just started bellowing nonsensically about where I should be and how I was just such a failure. It was truly like his brain had shut off, nothing he was saying even made sense. I stood there in the face of this tirade for a minute and then set a record for being the first person to ever cut him short by bursting into tears.

He instantly stopped yelling and it was like Jekyll and Hyde. He was remorseful and consoling, deeply embarrassed by my display of emotion. All my male coworkers just took the abuse but faced with my weeping he about faced and instantly backed off. I went outside to cry and when I came back in he pretended it had never happened.

That was the state of things. The investors knew they desperately needed to keep this man out of the stores, but they couldn't just give him the boot. They needed to move him aside and fill his position with someone. The store manager was this lovely woman who had hired me on the spot at my interview. The entire staff adored her. She was the best fit to get this roided out investor out of the stores for good.

Her replacement was this man called Anthony. He was instantly loathed by the entire staff. Condescending, critical, and lazy he started off his reign by letting go a core lead who "back talked." He spent a whole morning berating the opening crew because the closing crew (who had sold 100 more pizzas than we were even supposed to have on hand) had forgotten to windex the doors. He left the entire crew to close without him while he flirted with a girl who wasn't his pregnant girlfriend. He hired his roommate to replace the lead he fired and even that guy hated his guts.

Our antipathy toward him made him paranoid and resentful and one by one he started finding excuses to fire the whole staff, certain that if he could clean house he'd be able to do the job. My time came, and he sat me down with his boss, my former manager. She cried as he announced I wasn't personable enough and used too many pepperonis.

I looked at her, the woman who had trained me on how many pepperoni to use, but she said nothing. What could she say? He was the boss now and had determined I was going to be let go regardless. Too many in this case was seven. Seven pepperonis on a personal pizza. The correct number was five according to him, which is one pepperoni per slice, and one in the middle.

I sat there for a moment, taking it in. I smiled at my old manager, obviously miserable. I looked back at him and said, "You're a terrible manager, you're doing the worst imaginable job." I outlined some of the things he'd done so she could hear them, then I stood up and left. I made it to the back room before I started crying.

I found out later through a bus boy that he replaced the whole staff with college kids who had such limited availability that the store couldn't run, then quit three months later leaving the whole place in shambles. Most of the old staff returned, but I'd moved onto the sex shop already and was enjoying a job with significantly less risk of being fired on a whim.

However I do have to disclose on job applications if I've ever been fired. I always says yes and list the reason as, "Excessive use of pepperoni." It has never failed to get a laugh from my interviewer.

[nymphoniah]

thinking about pornstar!old man!logan having a channel where he and his pretty princess play for a while, or rather, he plays with his little doll, teasing her clit for so loooongg and edging her, until he gets bored and doesn't stop making her cum, overstimulating her, obviously she's such a cry baby, pleading him to stop but everyone knows that in the inside she doesn't want to stop. need this man to fuck me dumb and record it ngl 💝

trash magic | logan howlett

a/n: you read my mind!! omg i was thinking about this the other day, about what it would be like running an account with logan, and oh my god my brain was absolutely going numb just thinking about ittt >_<

pairing: pornstar!old man!logan x afab!pornstar!reader

contents/tags/warnings: nsfw, minors dni, 18+ only, filming pornography, porn with a little bit of plot, age gap (reader is in their 20’s), oral sex (female receiving), cunnilingus, cum eating, pet names (princess, babydoll, etc.), overstimulation, daddy kink, manhandling

when you proposed the idea to logan, he thought it was absolutely ridiculous. sure, in his 200 years, he’s seen some shit, experimented sexually when he was younger, but that was before.

now that he’s visibly aged, logan is reluctant to admit that he feels self conscious about the way he looks—he’s worried that he isn’t at the “top of his game” for you, that you’d leave him for a better, younger looking guy.

but that thought never crosses your pretty little mind. his age, the way he looks, it doesn’t bother you one bit—if anything, it spurs you on even more. you love every single of his “imperfections”, at least that’s what he calls them.

in your eyes, he’s perfect.

filming your first ever home video was a slight challenge, having to figure out which angles to record at while struggling with finding the correct lighting.

after smoothing out all of those bumps along the way, the two of you found that you had quite a knack for making porn.

the films you and logan would made could never be compared to the fake shit you’d see on those sketchy porn websites. no faked orgasms, obnoxiously loud moaning, none of that nonsense. when the two of you fucked, you absolutely fuckin’ meant it.

“no more…” you sob, feeling your mind getting hazy. you were at your third, no, fourth orgasm, but logan was convinced he could pull another one out of you. “s’too much, daddy!”

“you taste too sweet, princess” logan mumbles against your cunt, his beard drenched in your arousal. “just one more time f’me, yeah?”

his tongue messily laps at your folds, paying close attention to your aching bundle of nerves. he alternated between licking and sucking at the swollen button, making you whine out in ecstasy.

“m’gonna cum.. gonna cum…,” you pant out, shutting your eyes tight. your hips buck into logan’s face as you run your fingers through his hair, slightly tugging at the strands as you felt your core tighten.

“let it all fuckin’ out, babydoll,” logan groaned, flattening his tongue against your womanhood to increase the pressure on your clit. “c’mon and drench daddy’s face in your cum.”

you absolutely lose it, and the coil in your stomach snaps for what it felt like the hundredth time. you’re a whining mess beneath logan as he kept your legs spread out, his massive arms keeping you in place.

“thank you… t-thank you,” you bawl as a steady stream of tears fall down from your face, ruining the mascara you carefully applied on prior to shooting.

he continues to lap at your cunt and watches how you crumble at his touch, observing the way your brows furrow in pleasure while breathy moans escape your lips.

once you finally catch your breath, logan pulls away, beard glistening with your arousal. he readjusts and places himself on top of you, caging you in with his arms.

“taste yourself, sweetheart,” he murmurs against your lips before he parts your mouth with his tongue, sloppily making out with you.

logan breaks the kiss, and a single strand of saliva connects your bottom lip to his. using a single hand, he cups your face and squishes your cheeks together.

he roughly grabs at your jaw, turning your face to the camera that was propped at the foot of the bed with a tripod.

“now let the people watching know how good your old man fucked ‘ya.”

[livecrow]

You've been kidnapped by the local butcher and he convinces you he's going to fucking eat you.

DARK!Ghost x fat fem reader

CWs: rape, dehumanization, gaslighting, bondage, undiscussed kink(?), animal play(?), threats and talk of cannibalism but no actual cannibalism

(A tidied up and extended ramble I subjected @391780 to on anon. Inspired directly from their post where Butcher!Simon draws a diagram of beef cuts on you.)

It’s pretty immediately obvious he’s a murderer. He’s probably a serial killer for all you know.

In reality, Simon doesn’t consider himself a serial killer, despite his body count. He’s just someone who doesn’t have qualms dealing with nuisances. He’s a retired vet, after you’d killed enough people, what’s a few more? 

No, his kills were just business, practical. They were men who made the mistake of getting in his way, of being inconvenient. Most, anyway—there’s at least one or two whose only crime was being an especially annoying cunt. Sometimes, some people  “jus’ need killin’”. 

As a butcher, he does find the implication funny, but no, he’s not eaten any of the scum he’s off’ed. “Don’t serve ‘em up to customers, neither”. After all, Simon’s got far higher standards than that. They weren’t even fit for dog food and he has a reputation to uphold. No one can compete with his quality. 

No, you’re nothing like them. You’re special.

Never in his life had he seen a prettier creature—and you’re absolutely prime. He’s salivating just looking at you, plump and oh so soft. He can see it in the way your skin wobbles gently as you move about. Simon couldn't find a straight line on you. And he’s looked. He’s been transfixed watching you, aching.

You live your life meandering obliviously, no brand in sight, not even a tag on your ear. He's surprised no one else snatched you up. Poor thing left to fend for itself ‘s cruel. Nothing else to it. 

Wrangling you was simple, it’s not like your large form actually offered you anything towards your defense. It was easy, really. Your lack of instincts was staggering, it was even more shocking that you lasted this long, he almost couldn’t stop himself from laughing.

You were clueless to the danger, even when it was directly in front of you, it only endeared you to him. Your eyes roved over him, not paying him any mind, just carrying on about your undoubtedly inane business. Only when he was on you and it was too late did you start to kick up a fuss.

The look of panic on your face was just priceless. All this crying and babbling nonsense like, “What are you doing?!” and “Stop!”.

Simon's main concern was not damaging you too much, he was careful. Just a single huge bicep around your neck and any fight you had seemingly evaporated with fright. You're bent over in a headlock, his grip as rigid as a pillory, but he’s not applying enough pressure to actually choke you. You’re just forced helplessly to come along or be dragged.

Not that it would have mattered if you were too wild to be led, he would simply tighten his hold, and allow up a quick nap. He’d pull out the dolly, load up the truck and be on his way.

On the big stainless steel work table the metal stings you even through your clothes. Unfortunately for you, even that scant protection doesn't last. The sight of the shears was enough to paralyze you again, and with a handful of strategic snips, Simon rips your last vestiges of humanity from you. All your skin transforms to gooseflesh, shivering on the table, but your nipples is where his roaming gaze finally settles.

He’ll have to remember to adjust the heat later. After all, “‘s a bit early to start chillin’ you”, he’d chuckle. You were a bit of silly thing, he thought. Maybe it’d be a minute till you’d actually catch on.

You're his little prize. Simon will coddle you, give you plenty of softness and warmth. You’ll not want for blankets, pillows, and other such treats, but not a stitch of clothing will ever touch your skin again. There would be no hiding your nakedness.

“Clothes? Clothes ‘re for people, what y’ need clothes for?” he scoffed. You don’t make the mistake of thinking it’s a question, because he doesn’t want you to answer. A dog doesn’t answer “who's a good boy?” does he? 

He’s measuring you, jotting things down. You think distantly that the pencil looks puny in his fist. While he's at it, he's feeling and squeezing every inch of you. You’re groped and prodded like some saran wrapped package of beef at the grocery store.

Only when you think there’s finally a reprieve, you’re being hogtied. You’re trussed up in practically half a roll of twine, fat bulging between the strands, desperate to escape its bite. Simon says it looks good on you, can’t resist taking one of your new little rolls between his fingers, giving you a teasing pinch. You struggle of course, but the terrifying man commands you to “Settle”, says the only thing your fussing will get you is rope burn. 

He claps you on the ass affectionately, assuring you that the scratchy string is only temporary. He knows a guy for leather, does good work. All hand stitched. Simon will have a proper harness made for you. Something with a lot of d-rings. It will be more comfortable for you and he can situate you how he likes with minimal bruising or chaffing. 

As he admires your skin, he’ll remark offhandedly that he’ll have to ""'ave somethin' from you" too. He’s not usually one to bother, but it’d be a travesty to waste hide like yours. Couldn’t find more supple could y’? He hasn’t decided what’ll be yet, he’ll need to do some maths to figure out how much material you'll make. Behind his mask and the façade of impassivity, he savors your reaction. That’d be about the first time your consciousness flees from you.

Simon will lay it on thick, praise how "well-marbled" you are. Delectable. So plump and well-fed, you can't blame him for any of this, really. He'll say something about kobe beef and taking good care of you. He’ll massage you daily, knead every inch of you between his huge oiled hands. He'd take his time, temple t' toes. You couldn’t get a knot in a muscle if you tried.

Your more delicate bits don’t escape his tender ministrations either. He takes painstaking work in rubbing your insides down with thick fingers, wringing orgasms from you until you're limp and still as the rest of the meat in his shop. Says it’s good for the flavor, will make you even sweeter.

It’s all completely horrifying, it has to be a nightmare. He says all this so casually, like he’s telling you the time of day. This man is truly completely deranged. 

His hands are always on you, it’s never fucking ending. He's taken it upon himself that you never “exert” yourself and you have no choice in the matter. Bastard won’t even let your hands free to eat or bathe. He "grooms" you. Brushes your hair, trims your nails, cleans your teeth, brushes, lathers, rinses, dries, moisturizes your skin. It’s humiliating and you hate every second of it.

The juxtaposition is too much, the horror and absurdity of it all. All the restraints and manhandling, your looming demise, while insisting on soft surfaces for you, water temperature just right, food carefully curated and cut up just so. He won’t let anything happen to spoil the meat.

He doesn’t spare any expense on your “feed” either. You eat what he eats, might as well be eating off his plate. Albeit simple, it’s good food, you don't see a point in denying it. It's fresh and flavorful and to no one’s surprise it includes a lot of meat. Always from his shop of course, only the best for you.

He’ll bring out some new parcel every night for dinner, unfolding the brown paper wrapping, holding up to you to admire his work. “‘S a ribeye”. He goes on about the marbling, the even color of the meat. “Couldn’t find fresher” he’d say, "was only jus' bleedin' this mornin'".

You’re his captive audience. There’s nothing else you can do but warily watch him make dinner, even if seeing a blade in his hand gives your heart palpitations. Steak, sautéed mushrooms, jacket potatoes, roasted broccoli.

You’ve long since stopped fighting him when it comes to meals. Because it can always get worse. After being bent over on the floor, forced to eat off a dish without the use of your hands, you’d resigned yourself to the fact that eating off his fork was a sufferable compromise. Still, if he’s in a mood he won’t even allow that. You'll eat off his fingers, and he’ll laugh at your expense and chide you when you inevitably “make a mess”. 

The food was prepared, but this time the kitchen knife didn’t leave his grasp. It wasn’t a steak knife. It was too big and not serrated, but that didn’t seem to bother Simon. It certainly bothered you. Its presence loomed like a guillotine in your peripheral.

He feeds you bites between his own. Every mouthful and he looks so pleased. You desperately missed his mask at meal times. At least then you couldn’t see his smug fucking face.

On the plate the steam billows and curls. The meat gives easily under your molars, practically melts in your mouth. Hot and rich and juicy, it’s basted in butter, with garlic cloves and sprigs of rosemary, seasoned with cracked peppercorn and flakey sea salt. It’s a touch rarer than you’d like. 

You wish you were capable of escaping the horror of it all for even a second, pretend you were anywhere else, with anyone else.

Simon punctuated his first bite with a low rumble of approval, watching you with those dark, cavernous eyes. He’d continued in that way, a man content in silence.

”...you'll taste better.”

He waited until your last bite to say it, maybe that was mercy on his part. The meat transformed in your mouth, became sinewy and bitter. You couldn’t swallow, and went to spit it out. But he expected that apparently, was on you in a second. Giant rough hand sealed over your lips, practically enclosing the bottom half of your face, smooshing your cheeks up into your eyes. 

“Chew.”

It takes longer than usual, but you try to obey. His hand hasn’t moved from your mouth.

“Swallow.”

His eyes move from yours to your neck, his thumb grazing your throat lightly, tracing the bite’s trajectory as you force it down. His eyes are back on you then. 

With Simon’s free hand he deftly pierces the last drippy morsel off the plate with the knife, popping it between his scarred lips. The hand still on you moves, migrates to cup your jaw, gradually starting to squeeze. You don’t have any fight left and open before it becomes painful.

Fear paralyzes you again, when he brings the knife towards you.

The movement is slow, as if he’s actually concerned about frightening you. He’s holding it longwise, pointed off to the side.

Then it’s on your tongue.

He drags the flat of the blade’s length across the trembling muscle, leisurely, only moving it away to flip it and clean the other side, myoglobin discarded on your tongue 

“They’ll say ’m ‘spoilin’ ‘er rotten’. Eatin’ off my own plate, sleepin' in my own bed, warm under my roof. Keepin’ you safe indoors. Such a sweet, tame thing, are you?”. He strokes your cheek, wiping at a drip at the corner of your mouth with a thumb before popping that in his mouth too.

Whenever Simon’s put up enough with your smart mouth, he enjoys the look of your wide wet eyes and your trembling lips stretched around a padded ring gag.

The sounds you make when gagged are special little nonsense noises, almost like you're trying to talk like a person would. Sweet, pitiful sounds. He also loves when wet, choked sobs that cascade out of your open mouth, forcing you to drool. “You’re so messy, sweet’eart. Nose runnin’, too.” Says you're leaking from practically every hole. Eyes, nose, mouth, cunt.

Sometimes, you might almost be fooled into thinking he feels sorry for you in those moments when you're hyperventilating and hysterical, or wailing so mournfully. He always hushes you when you're crying, pets and hold you, dries your face, as if he’s not the cause of your tears. Despite how much Simon adores the taste of them, adores the soft jingling of the little cow bell tied ‘round your throat when your whole body quivers with sobs, the stress will sour the meat. He’ll say as much, but surprisingly it doesn’t help calm you down.

If it was necessary, he's not opposed to sedation. After all, he's done the research to find one that won't affect your flavor. But most of the time, his solution to your despair is yet another thorough fucking. Dopamine to counteract the stress.

Simon forces the orgasms out of your body as easily as he forces his cock into it, you're utterly helpless to stop either. His livelihood is working with his hands and unfortunately he’s damn good at it. When all's said and done and you're spent, he’ll lightly chastise you for working yourself up, for fussing.

He loves the heft of you in his hands, weighs your heavy tits in his palms, grips your ample belly. Simon can't resist taking mouthfuls of you into his mouth, worrying your supple fat with his incisors. Your tits, ass, thighs, arms, belly, back fat, hell, your double chin. It doesn't matter, any squishy bit of you. You're always afraid he might be getting impatient, that he’ll take a bite out of you, but he never does. Simon says he's just sampling, maybe tenderizing you a little. 

His favorite taste of yours is still between your legs. He has you thank him for being so careful there. Past you inner thighs and plump mons, the pressure of his teeth yields, feeling barely a graze. 

He likes putting mirrors in front of you, says he wants you to see how lovely you are. Your hands are clipped together, chain snagged in one of the shop's many meathooks, just low enough that you don’t strain your shoulders or quite have to stand on your tiptoes.

He directs you to watch, popping the lid off of a permanent marker with a squeak.

He maneuvers you this way and that as he works, dragging the marker down your body. His lines are surprisingly clean considering his canvas is such a pliant, organic shape. Hands are as steady as a surgeon. The marker tickled terribly on skin, the ethanol smell burning your nose, making it hard to think.

It only took a minute to recognize what he was doing. Your skin itches under the felt tip. You flail, trying desperately to smear it, to muss his work, but the ink dries too quickly.

Simon wouldn't let you keep your eyes closed, so in that moment you were grateful for the onslaught of tears blurring your vision somewhat.

That day, he showed you all your different cuts, as if you cared, as if you were together enough to pay attention.

Chuck, rib, loin, sirloin, rump, round, flank, plate, brisket, shank.

He tells you which are his favorite. Tells you which of his mates he’ll have over to enjoy you, ponders what pieces he’ll think they’ll like best. How to cook different cuts to get the best effect, that some cuts are naturally tougher and have to be cooked slowly, while the other cuts are tender and fatty, can be cooked at a higher temperature, quicker. 

From the very beginning, he’s referenced the “Big Day”.

He’ll ask if you're excited over the shinnnnk of a knife against a whetstone. Simon always keeps his tools in order, clean and sharpened expertly, but he thinks he'll polish them up extra shiny for the occasion. To a mirror finish, so you can see yourself. You're so beautiful, it'd be a cryin' shame for you to miss it. 

It’s been months now you’ve been with him and the day never comes. 

...

You didn't dare question it.

But if you did, Simon would just chuckle, amused that you're so eager. Maybe he'll say that he decided he wants some milk from you instead.

[xmoriartea]

SVSSS!Sibling Transmigration 2: Electric Boogaloo

a continuation of this nonsense that ya'll seemed to enjoy

While Shen Yuan and Luo Binghe hold hands and jump into the abyss, Airplane is left holding no pizza with the sect on fire (and him-damnit. He could really use a pizza right now)

Shang Qinghua helped organize the Immortal Alliance Conference fiasco, but with his brother's guidance and Mobei Jun's shocking willingness to listen to both of them, Cang Qiong suffers only two losses that day: LBH and SY (none of the other major sects are so lucky, shifting even more power into Cang Qiong (and thus SQH/MBJ)'s sway as they planned)

Shen Jiu (named Qingqiu now ofc, but still Jiu-ge to SY) does not handle his part in this well at all. Did he shove LBH into the abyss? He would say no. He just maneuvered an awakening and unstable Heavenly Demon away from his brother. (Bro did NOT account for said brother to throw himself at LBH and basically take both their asses into the abyss. Not even Airplane saw that one coming tbqfh)

So yeahhh. SJ is not handling this well. While his brother is missing SJ qi deviates no less than two times which has Qing Ding and every peak lord walking on eggshells. No one mentions either of his missing disciples unless absolutely necessary around him. Unfortunately, he spends entirely too much time researching the abyss, tearing through every tome on the peaks

When the lords try to discuss a way to help SJ's instability, the mention of dual cultivation is floated once and while YQY is hand on the trigger to volunteer as tribute, the vehement refusal from SJ has YQY declaring it off limits without hesitation (there are some murmurs about this, but YQY takes pride in protecting SJ and shuts everyone down)

Airplane and SY know each other well enough that he knows SY would be devastated if something happened to SJ (he knows SY had siblings, that he misses them, that his heart aches twice for the family here and home and he won't let him come back to an empty bamboo house. Airplane knows the pain of an empty home and he will find something in his brain to fix it)

This leads to one tense conversation with SJ like "Look I know you fucking hate me but for SY's sake please just listen one time: your brother is coming home. I don't know how exactly, but we both know he's too stubborn not to" (this does not endear him to his villain son, but he would swear SJ glares a little less at him after)

There is then a Sun-Moon Dew Mushroom tier research saga but it's Airplane alone digging through tomes and notes and getting a little xianxia stoned to try and remember the obscure world building he created. (You know what he remembers? That's he created TOO MUCH world building shit while three energy drinks deep at 2am for any one man to remember!! Cucumber-bro get back here!!)

Meanwhile MBJ is playing a differently game entirely while every cultivator is stressed out of their minds. He's got a spy who is assisting him with power grabs that his father would never have imagined. He's courting a pathetic little mouse of a man. LBH is not a name that means anything yet. MBJ is THRIVING. Everyone else is in a drama and he's in a dating sim

And with two Shangs? The first time he does something too aggressive-demonic in his attempt to court a flailing sleep deprived Airplane, SQH is there to be like 'wtf do you think you're doing you beast?' Does SQH nearly get his ass beat for this insult to his king? Maybe a little bit. But!! Airplane gets woo'd! Without bloodshed!! (his own anyway. SQH picks his battles and cannot pry MBJ's desire to hunt big, rare game to prove his worth as a partner to Airplane which ofc leads to moments of the Shang brothers just standing over the corpse of some ancient-possibly-mythical beast just... in their living room on An Ding like 'wtf do we do with this? my king pls')

Of course, the plot finds everyone eventually. And however the fuck it happens, MBJ crosses path with a power-grabbing LBH, is forced to surrender to return home alive to his consort-to-be (MBJ is waiting for the MBJ title to be 100% his before cementing the courtship), becomes second in command to this brat, and goes home to his Shangs to lick his wounds (MBJ does not expect Airplane to shake his face and demand to know if there was a human cultivator with this half-demon brat and then demand to be taken to them if so when MBJ just 'wtf' stares)

Turns out, several years in the abyss even for the protagonist and a man who knows far too fucking much about abyss nuances for a human is still not an easy time Being human in the abyss? It's a dinner bell for every big monster that SY wants to just observe like the worst tourist. LBH cannot figure out why his shixiong keeps putting himself in danger like this (shixiong!! if you know the deadly thing is hiding in this swamp what if!!! we didn't!! go in the goddamn swamp shixiong!!!) But! That abyss knowledge is hard to beat. SY is able to guide LBH through safe routes and help guide him on his demonic journey (LBH ofc asks how his shixiong knows about any of this and SY panic changes subjects like a dozen times. Even in the back of LBH's head Meng Mo is like 'kid IDFK what this brat is but it's not normal and I need you to 1. understand that and 2. do not let him get away') And you know what is great for SY (and by extension LBH)? SY isn't juggling a persona that isn't his. He's allowed to come to terms with himself and his feelings on his terms. He gets to watch his white lotus LBH fight alongside him in the abyss and save his life and oh. OH. Maybe. Maybe he can have this? (SY being SY is still like PLOT EXISTS!! HAREM!! WIVES!! And look. He figures his own shit out a little bit, he's still a blind bastard. He doesn't notice how many wife plots he and LBH have stumbled into together, or how many LBH has skipped entirely. He can just be part of the harem, that's fine. He can live with that. Totally normal thoughts) LBH meanwhile can't even spell harem cause he only has eyes for this weird wonderful shixiong of his Given that the plot is a mess (happening, sure, but a MESS) they stumble into a new wife plot in the abyss (How was SY supposed to know full humans triggered nonsense plots down here?? It's not like LBH's human wives were ever down here with him!!) and so SY might be dying a second time. (Whoops! Whoops! Whoops! (Hey System? STFU if you have nothing useful to offer thank you!!!) But you know what could help this mortal cultivator trapped in the abyss? Demon qi. You know who has a lot of demon qi he doesn't know what to do with?? Best boy Binghe, that's who (they're both young and awkward and SY is dying and Binghe can't lose him. He can't be left alone again. It's declaration and promise and hope and when he kisses his shixiong he wills the transfer of qi between their lips and he can feel the way SY grows stronger in his arms with it) Let's just say that even when they clear the realm of the abyss that threatened SY, LBH still persistently insists that his shixiong share his qi mwah! (SY does not put up half as much complaint as he once might have over his sticky shidi) Also you know SY is going to find some horrific abyssal monstrosity and decide it's just the best and cutest most perfect and loyal pet (it's an honest to god nightmare and everyone they encounter is afraid of it and Binghe shoots it glares whenever it steals his shixiong's affections HOW DARE??) With SY's omnipotent abyss GPS sense and LBH sharing his excess of demon qi with SY, they're able to find Xin Mo, break the seal on LBH's powers, and then continue on his training montage (definitely too unstable to go back to the mortal realm early), also he has a fantastic anchor in SY at his side to soothe the Xin Mo urges and (don't ask shidi, pls he's begging) also teach him how to tame the sword

Cut back to several years of time passing, Airplane squishing his king's face, demanding to know about a human cultivator with this heavenly demon only for MBJ to (still face squished) say he wouldn't call the man at LBH's side human per se but if this is what his Airplane wants, he will take him with him to the meeting LBH has arranged for the following day (now please, let him pout and huff and receive head scritches)

Hey you know how people always get taken aback by Xie Lian being just absolutely filled with ghost qi??? SY is a cultivator, not a god, just a lad trying his best to follow that immortal master path, and he just spent SEVERAL years in the abyss and getting regularly dosed by HEAVENLY demon qi — this boy ain't right anymore, guys. He's definitely feeling some kind of demon-tier different™ after all of this and man is THRIVING because Now That's What SY Calls Lore

Please imagine heavenly demon LBH with a demon-touched SY holding demon court with their weird demon allies when MBJ shows up flanked by two totally human Shangs and the just.... the awkward staring these four members of Cang Qiong do at each other (LBH, oblivious to the spy on the mountain plots, just 'why tf is Shang-shixiong and Shang-shifu here??) (SQH looking at LBH and SY and just taking furious mental notes about these Developments and how this may affect his brother's safety) (SY and Airplane just seconds away from slapping the shit out of each other like cats in a bag just 'where the fuck have you been???' 'what have you done???')

Court gets to proceed as planned, but Consorts Shen and Shang make hasty exits together to figure out just what the fuck has been happening to Airplane's plot (There is minimal sibling-tier beat downs in the process and neither is free from sin)

Airplane explains that SJ is a mess and that they need to do something if SY wants to continue having a brother ('bro, he will go off the deep end soon if he doesn't find you but if he finds you like this BRO WILL GO OFF THE DEEP END!! DO YOU SEE THE PROBLEM??')

Their scheming gets them on the idea the Sun-Moon Dew Mushroom and between both their whipped demons, it's very easy to acquire it, cultivate it, and prepare it for SJ (ofc monster loving son SY shares some with a cute snake he sees, obviously)

SY sneaks onto Qiong Ding with their near ready science project and meets with YQY who is... not thrilled with the demonic influence all over his shidi's brother. But he listens, because end of the day they both care for SJ. SY can't risk SJ having another deviation if he sees him, so he entrusts YQY to present this fix to SJ: a way to repair his broken core and shed the scars of his past (ofc they both know he will be suspicious, but after doing his own research, he would take it in a heartbeat)

When SJ has a shiny new and powerful body, that's when LBH and SY return to the sect. No demon army, no attacks, no Huan Hua bs. Just two lost disciples making their return from the abyss. (There is much distrust. SQH plays his role as well as ever, siding with the other lords that certain tests must be passed to ensure they are not demons--- oh wait one of you IS a demon. and the other has been influenced by that one. Mhhh. Mhmmm. This is fiiiiiine)

SJ doesn't deviate! But he is! Mad! There is much yelling and shouting and disciples are made to run around Qiong Ding peak while every other lord just has to sit through the most chaotic family reunion.

But things can go back to normal from here right? Just casual transmigration, not plot threats? (System? System you're laughing. They're having a nice moment and you're laughing)

[gi4hao]

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ ˎˊ- comforting their s/o that’s scared of talking too much

ot13 x gn!reader — no warnings i think

veeeery self-indulgent post i’m ngl :) if you relate to the prompt then hopefully this will provide you with some comfort! <3

— seungcheol

he will insist on knowing who put such nonsense in your mind, because how dare they make you feel self-conscious about one of the things he loves the most about you? he absolutely adores that you passionately ramble about the most random things; it always lifts his mood even after a long and exhausting day. and that’s what he’s here to remind you: that you should never be ashamed of talking if it’s something that makes you happy.

— jeonghan

any kind of negative thoughts on your part becomes his #1 priority so he takes time to discuss it with you and give you enough reassurance. he reminds you that talking a lot is not a bad thing at all, and that you’re also an amazing listener, which he’s very grateful for. “people are just jealous because you’re interesting enough not to run out of conversation!” he tells you, wiping your tears away. it truly breaks his heart to see you so self-conscious so he’ll definitely be extra careful regarding this topic in the future <3

— joshua

no matter where that insecurity comes from, he comforts you with immense patience and lots of cuddles, reminding you of how much your words matter. on a more personal note, he absolutely adores the sound of your voice, it’s one of his favorite things about you. “i’d fall asleep to your voice every night if i could,” he tells you, looking into your teary eyes with a smile, and you just know he’s being 100% honest, “and you should never ever feel bad about wanting to share things with the people you love.”

— jun

it really pains him to hear that’s how you feel because he can only imagine how long you’ve been thinking about it before even telling him. but jun is here to tell you that you always make people feel comfortable, which is something he finds absolutely wonderful about you. he knows it can be hard to overthink about your social skills so he will always make sure to encourage you to speak your mind (whether it’s through a gentle squeeze of the hand or a smile from across the room). and he also showers you with kisses because he knows it’s one of the best remedies for overthinking :]

— hoshi

what? you? talking too much? oh he’s not gonna let that slide. he proceeds to go off on a tangent about your countless qualities (some that aren’t even related to the topic, he just gets carried away), because he will not let you struggle alone with your insecurities, that’s for sure. as often, he wishes he could lend you his eyes to make you understand how perfect you are to him. “and so what if you talk a lot? i do too! it’s who i am, it’s who you are and that’s why we’re a match made in heaven.”

— wonwoo

it feels weird for him to hear that you’re self-conscious about something he really admires you for. according to him, it’s the ease with which you talk that made your first dates not feel awkward. he loves how good you are with words of affirmation, and he also insists on how it inspires him to be more vocal about his own thoughts and feelings. “i don’t think you realize how entertaining you are. but i sure realize how lucky i am to have you,” he tells you in a more lighthearted tone, pressing a kiss against your temple.

— woozi

he insists on the fact that he’s one of the people that spends the most time with you, so you can truly believe him when he tells you that it’s not true. “that’s just because you love me,” you tell him, comfortably snuggled up against his side. “it is,” he replies, “but that goes for everyone around you; the people who love you will accept you for who you are. and if they don’t… screw them”. because woozi may be an absolute sweetheart but he has very low tolerance for the people who mess with his partner’s head.

— dokyeom

first and foremost, he offers to hug the sadness away, which kind of works because he’s a professional when it comes to comfort hugs. he knows it’s normal to have insecurities but he hates seeing you so self-conscious, so he’ll definitely try his best to cheer you up. also, words cannot describe how much he loves talking with you, so he’d really hate it if these bad thoughts ended up changing your personality. most of the time he’s the bubbly one, but he also likes to be fueled by his very own sunshine from time to time.

— mingyu

as a professional yapper, he understands where that insecurity might be coming from, which means he knows exactly how to comfort you. he’s here to remind you of all the times you’ve been a great listener to either him or your friends, and the great pieces of advice that followed. mingyu thinks your inputs are always important, no matter the conversation, and he’s so freaking happy to be sharing his life with someone that can keep up with his own pace! as long as he’s here, you know you’ll always have someone to listen to your every word.

— minghao

he’s scared he might have accidentally made you feel that way while teasing you (lovingly ofc), so he apologizes profusely until you tell him that he has nothing to do with it. “you enjoy sharing your perspective on things and that’s beautiful,” he reassures you, “and you know me, i’d tell you if you were too overbearing… but you’re not. so don’t worry your pretty head, ok?”. and it’s moments like these that truly make you feel grateful for minghao’s wise and comforting words, always carefully chosen to make your worries disappear in a second.

— seungkwan

kind of like cheol, he wants names. because - and he’s saying that with all due respect - they should know they’re just stupid people spreading stupid lies. seungkwan knows you by heart, he knows you’re a selfless person that’s always here to help their loved ones, and he thinks you’re not giving yourself enough credit for that! “you’re absolutely perfect in every way, and i thi- stop. i can see you’re about to argue but i’m not letting you win this one. no way.”

— vernon

he has a really sensitive approach to this issue, knowing how hard it is when you get in your own head. hugs and cuddles are definitely a part of him comforting you, but he also makes you promise something (and you can see from the look in his eyes that he’s very serious). “if you ever start overthinking after any kind of social interaction, private or public, with or without me, please come and talk to me. i’ll try my best to help you get rid of these thoughts, alright?”. because at the end of the day, he wants to be someone you can be fully transparent with, just like he is with you.

— dino

according to him, you shouldn’t even be thinking about how much you talk in a day. instead, he worries that you might be surrounding yourself with people that simply do not appreciate this aspect of your personality. “if you have something to say, go ahead! being yourself should make you happy, and life’s already too complicated to worry about speaking too many words!” he tells you, and you can tell he genuinely wants you to let go of these hurtful thoughts. but he also knows how hard it is, and luckily chan is great at making long-term efforts (especially for your wellbeing), so expect lots and lots of carefulness and support on a daily basis.

rbs and feedback are always appreciated <3

[stsgooo]

The Moonlight Goddess.

✩࿐ summary: the toy that got tucked away, would eventually come back out to play.

warning(s): chapter 48.2 manga spoilers, unedited. wc; 3.2k

pairing(s): jinshi/fem!reader

a/n: caught up on the manga, feeling incredibly deranged. i will Not be speaking about chapter 65 as that was the craziest experience i've ever had at 1 am. also, i'll be reading the light novel soon :)) anyway, i hope you enjoy this random thing i cooked up.

part ii m.list ao3

WHEN MAOMAO SUGGESTED JINSHI TAKE THE PLACE OF A BEAUTIFUL WOMAN, YOU WEREN’T ENTIRELY CONVINCED.

Sure, your master was a beautiful man who had won the lottery of genetics. But you weren’t sure if he could convince beautiful western women that he of the same level, if not above, as them. It wasn’t a slight towards him. A lack of confidence in his abilities. But the mere fact that this issue itself was presented as nonsense. Achievable for a god, perhaps. But not for someone as simple as Jinshi.

It’d been 50 years since the last time the convery had last visited and spotted this beautiful woman. Surely, these girls were aware of the effects of time and how… unkind it could be to some?

It all smelt bad.

“Uh, Maomao, are we sure this is the absolute best approach for this matter?” You had asked as the three others had come to some general consensus amongst each other.

Maomao had stared at you flatly and, for a moment, you ponder if she even knew who you were. “Have you ever dealt with unruly women, Y/N?” She asked in her usual monotonous manner.

You blinked, expression equally as flat as you regarded the younger girl for a beat. Her time at Jinshi’s home had been spent, primarily, with you and Suiren. It was fond to look back on, but the two months had been stressful and the girl was rather difficult to work with. She drug you around on one or two of her little investigations. Much to the disdain of you both. The only compliment she paid you in that time was that you were quick on your feet and able to keep up with. Something that you guessed wasn’t common.

Yes, you are rather unruly, Maomao. Was the reoccurring and unkind thought that passed through your mind.

“I’ve dealt with my fair share of unruly people.” You opted to answer instead.

The girl raised an eyebrow, “Women?”

You deflated, “Many.”

Unfortunately, being Jinshi’s maid had meant you had your encounters with women who, blinded by their fondness for him, would attempt to make random walk-ins. Something strictly forbidden unless it was the upmost emergency. Despite them being the ones in the wrong, it was usually you who suffered the brunt of their abuse until Gaoshun finally decided to inquire what was wrong.

You were quite used to unruly women.

Unknowingly, you'd guaranteed your place in Maomao's plan.

She placed her fingers against her chin, eyes squinted on you. "Do you use makeup often?"

You blink, a weary frown on your lips. "What?"

"Are you familiar with makeup and hair, Y/N?"

"Of course I am." What did she take you for? A lazy uneducated lady?

Maomao grinned, something that was dark and twisted, and you felt like you had somehow stumbled into a terrible trap. "Wonderful, you'll help with Jinshi-sama's makeup!"

"Wha- no, I-I have my--" You attempted to decline, but were quickly cut off.

"That's a great idea," Jinshi spoke up, looking rather delightful as his eyes moved to you. "No one I would trust more with this."

Seeing the glint in his eyes and the kind smile, you knew you could no longer remove yourself from this plan. With a bowed head, you turned to Maomao, prepared to receive your duty.

You suppose this is how you ended up here. Maomao and Gaoshun out to find an outfit that would suit the Moonlight Goddess. And you awfully close to Jinshi's face as you carefully apply the eye makeup.

Silently, you were thankful that he had his eyes closed, as his violet eyes endlessly and innocently staring back into yours would surely make your heart stop. The work had been silent for the most part. The both of you uttering only what was needed: close your eyes, please look up, tilt your head to the side. It was the easy back and forth you both fell into.

It made you realize that most of your companionship with Jinshi had primarily been in silence. You simply deciphering exactly what he wanted from the twitch in his brow or the look he would shoot. It'd never really been on your mind before. Although, it had always been an easy agreement between you that shouldn't be brought to question or pondered upon too much. Ever since the both of you were children. Ever since you were just being trained for the duties that would be carried out in the rest of your adult life. You'd both just been in this tiptoe waltz that carried you through life.

He didn't pry too much into your personal dealings and you never questioned his demands as your master.

Life was, in all ways, easy.

But still, you felt as though this plan was toeing a line. Asking too much, underestimating the intelligence of another.

You supposed Maomao was like that and Jinshi would easily follow her word.

Maomao. Jinshi. Maomao and Jinshi.

They are quite the duo recently. You knew it would be nothing good the moment he'd called for her in Lady Gyokuyou's with that glint in his eyes. The eagerness and curiosity similar to that of a child. The way he sought her out at any given opportunity. If you had to guess, you would say Jinshi is rather fond of dear Maomao.

It made you sigh heavily, your eyes narrowed on the liner that looked a little wobbly.

"Any mistakes, you can just retry, don't stress yourself." Jinshi spoke, assuming that your sigh was related to the unsteady line rather than the trail of thoughts plaguing your mind.

You blink, eyes focused on the kind smile that stretched over his lips. A slight pitter-patter took your chest. "No worries, Jinshi-sama, I won't ruin your looks." You shoot back, softly.

Jinshi's eyebrows raised, a soft snort released. "Oh, really? Are you teasing me now?"

"I do have the ability to joke here and there, sir."

"You barely do anymore. Joke, that is." Jinshi observed, a subtle frown on his lips as you applied a bit of glimmer to his eye lids. "You're very serious now, very on edge."

"These are serious times, Jinshi-sama." You replied back smoothly, feeling an indescribable ache in your chest. "I'm sorry if I'm not entirely entertaining."

Jinshi's frown seemed to deepen. And, suddenly, his fingers were wrapped around your wrist and his eyes were open to reveal the clandestine violets that glimmered into your very soul. His hold felt warm and all encompassing, a disorienting welcoming feeling that made you falter in your work. Frozen, you offered him your undivided attention as he appeared to struggle with himself. gave him your undivided attention. His brows were furrowed and the frown on his lips was entirely too childish for the man he claimed to be. His lips parted and he released a sound akin to frustration. He huffed and huffed and huffed. Then he stared into your soul-- still, he couldn't seem to find the proper words for his thoughts.

One of the many things that Jinshi struggled with often is that he simply had a greater outlook on life while being so terribly confined. A childish optimism that should've left him once he was grown, clung to his soul desperately and gave him a more bountiful outlook on people and life. He knew the risks, he knew the dangers, he knew the nastiness of the world, but still stayed kind.

You know it was one of the many things his mother tried to change about him. That and his attachment to things. That was something you'd encountered first hand.

"You have your reservations about this, I can tell."

When he spoke, you weren't entirely sure what he'd say. There were times he was too insightful, too smart for his own good. It used to amuse you, now you only worried when it'd come across as unseemly.

Jinshi stared up at you, glittering eyes kind and approachable, his fingers squeezed gently around your wrist. "I don't want you to feel like you can't speak your mind." He continued as if he had no idea who you were. What you were. What you were to him.

Your gaze bounced between his own, a small frown breaking the perfect exterior you always desperately kept up. Maybe he was still stuck in the past. Maybe he was still enchanted by who you both used to be to one another.

The past was usually more lovely than a future unseen.

"I'm actually told not to voice my mind."

"By who?"

"Everyone."

There's a moment where Jinshi looks as if he's remembering something. Something distinct and obvious. Something that he had completely disregarded in the back of his mind for whatever reason, for however long. It must be pleasant, to not be constantly reminded that the people around you are paid or contracted to be by your side. Must be nice to have a choice.

Master. Servant. Master and servant.

That is all you and Jinshi shall ever be.

"I see," He uttered, eyes briefly tracing the tiles on the floor before fluttering back up to you with a new spark of determination. "But I'm ordering to speak your mind! Freely!"

You stared back flatly in return. Was he oblivious what freely meant? Ordering me and then saying it's of my own volition can't both be true.

Jinshi would put you into early death.

"Well, I, uh," you found his eyes to be too vibrant, to be staring too intensely and too welcoming. You turned your gaze away, desperate to grab some type of bearings over yourself. But, alas, his hand was still wrapped around your own. His skin scorched yours, tainted it with the warmth that was all his. "I think that this plan will not go entirely as you all hope."

"Is that so?" His voice is like a smooth honey, soft and all too endearing.

You hum, nodding, "Yes, uh, I believe they want you to fail, sir. And to have a rather unsavory thing to report back." Jinshi simply hummed in response. You could feel his eyes almost stroking against the side of your face. "I just think that they won't react the way you and Maomao hope they will. This is no slight to your or her intelligence, of course. Just a mere observation."

"I know what you mean, no worries." Jinshin's thumb was now slowly and softly stroking the butt of your palm. A soothing action that brought your eyes back to him. Captured in the way he serenely observed you. "What exactly about this makes you uneasy? Maybe I can ease you."

It didn't sound like an offer, but a promise. If his words weren't enough, his eyebrows were drawn together in careful contemplation. He wasn't going to walk away from this conversation without you both reassured in some capacity.

"What if they want to talk to you?"

Jinshi might had fair and delicate features, and a soft voice, but it wasn't nearly feminine enough to pass. If anything, they'd grow more suspicious. Then they'd report back about what a joke they all were and then Jinshi could suffer some type of punishment for his embarrassment. It wasn't that you were too pessimistic or didn't believe in the little group, but that the women's request felt bad all around.

A set-up if anything.

So, you took a deep breath and focused on that reassuring circle being drawn into your skin as Jinshi contemplated this for only a moment.

"Then I'll have the apothecary cover for me." Jinshi smiled, all too bright and all too reassuring. "We've already decided that I'll swim across the pond-- give me a vanishing effect and she'll deter them elsewhere."

You furrow your brow, all too worried, but bow your head instead of voicing such. "Of course, I have no doubt in you, Jinshi-sama." You reassure.

There was a beat of silence, then, "You're my oldest friend, you know?" You tense. Frozen into you bow, your wide eyes stare endlessly at his feet. His tone is tender, soft, almost hesitant, as if he wasn't sure if he should be speaking these things aloud. Yet, he continued. "You're the only one, beside Gaoshun and Suiren, that has stuck by me without judgement or doubt. I thank you for that, but I also fear that we've grown apart."

"I suppose we have." You uttered, trying to ignore the clench in your chest.

"Even as children, we started to grow apart." He continued to observe.

Because of your mother. Because of her fear that you'd end up like him, like your father. That disgusting and vile man. How could she not know you'd never be like him?

There was a day, a very distinct day, that you and Jinshi had been separated for "his own good". Your birthday. You had waited him eagerly in the main courtyard, being able to slip away from your duties out of kindness from Suiren. You waited and waited, until Gaoshun had approached. His expression downtrodden and dark. He informed you that it was no longer proper for you to play around with the boy you so dearly adored. Said his mother commanded it.

If he plays with a toy too much, take it from him.

You used to be bitter, resentful, and angry over it. Only eight-years-old, you had clung onto any companionship you could and he had given the illusion that he'd be there forever. Until he wasn't. Until you were a toy to be tucked back into the chest, forever forgotten with time.

He would be there forever, but you only merely a pawn for him to use as he pleased. To do work and to never grace the same level as you had when you both were only children, not yet exposed to hierarchy. Pure and innocent.

Now, you were mere servant and master.

Finally, you willed yourself to pull away from his hold, turning around to pick through various hair products. "It's been a long time, Jinshi-sama. We're no longer children."

"Hm."

As you reached for a brush, he pressed against your back. His hands coming to rest against your own with a delicate, featherlike touch. He was suddenly surrounding your ever sense. His warmth enveloping you into a hug that was almost earth shattering. Your lips parted and your eyes wide, you tensed as his lips brushed against the top of your head.

"I think of you often," his words are a whisper against you and your eyes, if possible, widen further as you almost lean back into him. "I sometimes wish I could just reach out and...and hold you, like we used to. Is that so bad?"

"Jinshi-sama, this is rather inappropriate!" You whisper back, not daring to look back at him in fear for how quickly you'd crumble.

He chuckles, the sound vibrating from his chest into your back and sending various chills down your spine. "If I'm making you uncomfortable, then please, tell me."

You don't open your mouth, as much as you wished you would deter him, you were rather eager to keep this up for a moment longer. To have something to think about and something to cherish later. Surely, this wouldn't happen again.

Instead, your attention goes to keeping your heart steady as Jinshi gently turns you around. His eyes heavy as he stares at you earnestly, lips quirked up barely. Your hands came up to clutch his forearm, gently squeezing as he did the same with your shoulder. You felt your heart stammer and a sweat collecting on your brow, this was definitely something frowned upon. To be so close and to breathe his same air-- as he exhaled, you inhaled the rich oxygen.

Suddenly, Jinshi's eyebrows furrowed and his fingers reached out, gently tucking some hair from your face. "What did they teach you to make you tremble like this?" He whispered it to himself but, thanks to your proximity, you heard it.

It made your ears redden, your lips pressed together. Did he really not know?

Before you could even speak, the door to his room were opened. Both your heads snapped to the door where Maomao and Gaoshun stood, both varying degrees of expressions on their faces that brought shame to you both. The four of your frozen in your respective places, staring at one another dumbly. Your hold on your master slackened and Jinshi took that as a sign to move first.

Jinshi made a rather odd noise, jumping away from you, face red and wide awkward smile to the two at the door. "Did you find the goods?" He asked as he approached, nervous fingers moving about.

Maomao, bless her soul, decided to ignore whatever it was they had walked in on, moving forward with a bundle of things in her arms. "Yes, Jinshi-sama."

You nervously pulled yourself from the table, turning your back to the three, hoping to conceal the red hue on your face. You really, really, hoped that no one would say anything.

Your hopes were tarnished as Gaoshun stepped up beside you.

The man was family. He'd been there for every milestone, or the rather unruly years when you found yourself in trouble more often than not. You'd grown accustomed to reading into his expressions more than his words. He was more open there, his only weakness.

That's why you withered when you saw that aghast expression on his face. The glimmer in his eyes that said it all-- he knew what was happening.

You ducked your head at the same time you heard Maomao ask, "Why isn't your hair done?"

You mustn't get ideas above your station. You are there to serve your master. Nothing less, nothing more.

That is the first thing that they taught you when you were "of age".

You are to give your life to your master. Any inappropriate behavior will be punished, severely.

That's the second thing they taught you.

There were many things that contributed to your regression. That made you cower away from who you used to be. Going from a loud troublemaker to the polite, obedient lady that lived to serve her kind master.

But as you watched Jinshi, or more correctly, the Moonlight Goddess dance elegantly at the edge of the pond. As you witnessed the light hit just right an illuminate him in a way that would send even the most beautiful angel into a rage. You realized one thing.

You would never tell Jinshi of those things.

Someone as beautiful and perfect as him, untouched from the life that you lead, shouldn't be exposed to the things he confined you to.

All you could do was gaze upon the Moonlight Goddess, utter your most daunting praises and wants, and tuck it all away.

You mustn't get ideas above your station.

You were a lowly maid after all. Someone so dignified and beautiful wouldn't settle for you.

"My hair is still wet!" Jinshi's voice bounced off the walls, a scowl etched on his face.

You bowed your head as you entered, towel tucked in your arms. "I have a towel for you, Jinshi-sama."

As you ruffled his hair with the towel, watching his shoulders relaxed you thanked the Moonlight Goddess.

A coward like you would never belong with a Goddess like him.

[gothicxreylover]

I’d like to thank you for doing an absolutely perfect job on my requests. I hope you don’t mind if I give you another one.

yandere hashira’s plus Aoi x a Tanuki reader who accidentally revealed their true form (which is just a small chubby little raccoon thing) and immediately tries to run away from the scene.

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

Yandere Hashira’s and Aoi with a small Tanuki raccoon reader

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

Rengoku

Rengoku’s golden eyes widened as you transformed before him. One moment, you were the human-like S/O he adored; the next, a plump little tanuki stood in your place, eyes wide with panic. Before you could dart off, his hand shot out, effortlessly scooping you up by the scruff of your neck.

“Running from me? Nonsense!” Rengoku exclaimed, his voice booming with excitement. He held you up to his face, a beaming smile plastered across his features. “You’re even more adorable than I imagined! This form only proves your uniqueness. I’ll cherish every part of you—every form of you!”

Despite your squirms and tiny growls, Rengoku cradled you protectively, his grip unyielding. “You can’t escape me, little one. I’m your protector, your partner. I’ll make sure you stay by my side, no matter what.”

Sanemi

The moment you shifted into your tanuki form, Sanemi froze, staring at you in stunned silence. The realization of your true form dawned on him, and before you could scurry away, his sharp instincts kicked in. With one swift motion, he caught you by the tail, holding you up in the air as you wriggled and squeaked in protest.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, running away from me?” Sanemi growled, his tone low and dangerous. His lips curled into a twisted smirk. “You think I’d let you go just because you look like… this? You’re mine. Every part of you belongs to me, and I’ll kill anyone who even thinks of taking you away.”

He cradled you close, his grip firm yet oddly tender. “Try running again, and I’ll make sure you can’t. You’re safer with me than anywhere else.”

Giyuu

Giyuu’s calm exterior cracked ever so slightly when he saw your small, chubby tanuki form. His eyes softened, but the moment you tried to scamper away, his hand moved faster than you thought possible, pinning you gently yet firmly to the ground.

“You’re running from me?” he murmured, his voice cold yet tinged with hurt. “After everything, you’re still trying to leave?” He scooped you up with surprising ease, his grip unshakable despite your frantic movements.

“No matter what form you take, I won’t let you go. You’re mine, and nothing—not even your little tricks—will change that.” His tone was quiet but resolute, his obsession masked by his usual calm demeanor.

Obanai

Kaburamaru hissed as you shifted into your tanuki form, your round body a stark contrast to your human guise. The moment you bolted, Obanai’s eyes narrowed, and Kaburamaru slithered forward, coiling around you before you could escape.

“Running?” Obanai’s voice was sharp, his mismatched eyes glinting with dangerous intent. “You think I’d let you disappear? You’re mine, no matter what form you take.”

He gently picked you up, his hands surprisingly soft as they cradled your trembling body. “This form doesn’t change how I feel about you. If anything, it makes you even more precious. But don’t think I’ll let you hide from me again. I’ll always find you.”

Tengen and His Wives

The moment you transformed, Suma let out an excited squeal, while Makio and Hina froze in shock. You darted off, hoping to escape the embarrassment, but Tengen’s reflexes were far too fast. He caught you mid-scamper, lifting you high into the air with a triumphant laugh.

“Flamboyant! Absolutely flamboyant!” Tengen declared, examining your tanuki form with delight. Suma rushed over, practically vibrating with excitement. “They’re so cute! Can we keep them like this forever?”

Makio crossed her arms, smirking. “Looks like you can’t hide from us anymore.”

Hina gently stroked your fur, her calm demeanor masking the possessiveness in her eyes. Tengen grinned. “You’re stuck with us now, little one. Don’t even think about running away—we’ll always bring you back.”

Mitsuri

When you transformed into your tanuki form, Mitsuri’s eyes filled with sparkles. “Oh my gosh! You’re so adorable!” she squealed, hands clasped to her chest.

But as soon as you bolted, she sprang into action, catching you effortlessly. “No, no, no! Don’t run away from me!” she cried, holding you close to her chest. “You’re so precious—I could never let you go!”

Her grip tightened, her cheerful demeanor taking on a slightly obsessive edge. “You belong with me, okay? I’ll take care of you forever, no matter what form you’re in!”

Shinobu

Shinobu’s lips curved into a sweet yet chilling smile as you transformed. “My, my, what a surprise,” she said softly. When you tried to run, she was already in front of you, blocking your escape with a gentle but firm touch.

“Now, now, little one,” she cooed, kneeling to your level. “Why would you want to leave me? You’re even more fascinating like this.” She picked you up with ease, her hands delicate yet unyielding.

“I wonder… do you transform like this often? Or is it just for me?” Her voice was light, but the underlying possessiveness sent shivers down your spine. “No matter. I’ll make sure you stay where you belong—by my side.”

Gyomei

Gyomei’s expression didn’t change when you transformed, but his large hands reached out calmly as you tried to flee. He gently cupped you in his palms, holding you as if you were the most fragile thing in the world.

“There’s no need to run,” he said softly, his voice resonating with warmth and obsession. “This form only makes you more precious to me.”

Even as you squirmed, his grip remained steady. “You are a gift, and I will protect you with my life. No matter how small you are, you cannot escape my devotion.”

Aoi

Aoi’s jaw dropped when she saw your transformation. “What… what are you?!” she stammered. But before she could fully process it, you darted off, your tiny legs carrying you toward the nearest exit.

“Oh no, you don’t!” she yelled, chasing after you with surprising speed. She caught you by the tail, lifting you into the air with a mix of frustration and awe.

“You think you can just run away after showing me this?” she scolded, holding you close despite your protests. Her cheeks were flushed, and her grip betrayed an almost desperate need to keep you close. “You’re not getting away from me. Ever.”

Muichiro

Muichiro’s blank stare lingered on you after your transformation, his usually foggy mind sharpening in that moment. The sight of your chubby tanuki form made him tilt his head slightly, as if trying to understand what he was seeing.

You didn’t wait for him to process it. Panic overtook you, and you bolted for the nearest escape route. However, before you could get far, a gust of wind swept past you, and Muichiro appeared directly in your path, crouching to block you.

“Why are you running?” he asked, his voice soft but eerily calm. His hand reached out to grab you with startling precision, his fingers curling around your small, furry form. You squirmed and tried to wiggle free, but his grip was steady, almost gentle, yet impossible to escape.

“You’re… small,” he remarked, staring at you with wide, unblinking eyes. “But that doesn’t matter. You’re mine.” His tone was flat, but the possessive undertone sent a chill down your spine. “Even in this form, I won’t let you leave. You shouldn’t try to run… it’s pointless.”

Holding you close to his chest, his grip was protective yet suffocating. His gaze remained fixed on you as if memorizing every detail of your tanuki form. “Stay with me. Always. You don’t need to hide or run away—I’ll never let you go.”

Despite his usual distant demeanor, the obsession in his words made it clear: Muichiro was not going to let you escape, no matter what.

[hellfire--cult]

Alpha!Eddie Munson x Omega!Reader

+18 hurt/comfort, angst, depression, omega dropping, mean!eddie, rejection, abo dynamic

Not proofread, just needed to put my hurt into words. i was sad this morning and this came out.

Dropping is a self defense mechanism for Omegas when their needs aren't met. That could be rejection from their alpha, having no pack, having no pups, not being able to scent, etc. They induce themselves in a non responsive state, sometimes comatose until they feel safe once again.

wc: 4k+

Plot: Eddie is the reason you drop.

SCENT

Eddie Munson wanted to be your mate back in Hawkins when he had presented a courting gift. It wasn’t out of nowhere, he was very much sure you were his mate because well, you had spent your heat with him, as well as he spent his rut with you. You also met with him every so often to mess around and just stare at the stars above his trailer. He was sure you were going to be his mate, because you two had confessed to each other even.

But you rejected him.

You never gave him a reason, never gave him the motive for your rejection and why you led him on the way you did, but that’s what made Eddie greatly despise you. Now, you had a reason for the rejection. Your father had realized the relationship you had with the Male Alpha, and he had dimmed Eddie a worthless suitor. You would have eloped of course, you were ready to do so, but your father wasn’t an ordinary man at all. 

Your father threatened to kill Eddie if you were to run away with him.

He promised you he would find you both and you would become a lonely Omega with a bitten mating gland and that would probably make you spiral into absolute madness. You didn’t care about what happened to you, but you did care about Eddie. You were so happy when he had presented a courting gift to you. You were so absolutely happy…

But your father’s words came back into your mind and even if your heart broke, even if your omega self was trying to claw out of your skin to go towards Eddie, your alpha, your other half of your protective and motherly omega wanted to protect him at all costs. So you stepped away without any reason, without telling him what had truly happened behind your house’s doors. His scent became bitter, so bitter that you had to scrunch up your nose at the unfamiliar smell he sent your way. He hated you.

Eddie then left Hawkins.

And everything you did to protect him was in vain, because your father started presenting possible suitors for you, Alphas that would give you everything, riches, family… But you rejected every single one of them, and your father got fed up with your nonsense after a year of trying. Your mother just stood there as your father prepared your bags and put them at the front door. He kicked you out of the house and out of his pack. 

Your friends had left for Indianapolis so you headed over there as well, trying to find comfort in them, wanting to be scented if they were still a pack. You moved, you actually found a decent job as an assistant, and you could afford rent in a nice apartment that had a living room, kitchen and a bedroom. But when you finally crossed paths with Robin Buckley after calling her on her cell phone, her scent was very familiar. Your Beta friend had a pack that was for sure, but the scent she was emanating meant that they had a particular Alpha as a protector, as a leader.

So when you finally met up with everyone once more at Robin’s home, the scent that hit your nostrils was too potent, as if there was a wildfire spreading all over the room, only to become bitter and sour in the matter of seconds because there in the middle of the room stood Eddie Munson, in his new Alpha glory. He was bigger, beard covering his features, hair tied back as he stared at you with hatred in his eyes.

Everyone noticed how your scent transformed into a humid kind of smell, meaning that sadness was present in yourself as well as fear. You weren’t welcome in the pack, and he made it clear as he forbade everyone to scent you. He didn’t want you near him, he didn’t want you to mess him up again, and now that he found his pack and he actually recovered from the pain you caused, he wasn’t going to let you ruin it with your smell.

He believes you don’t deserve it, even though he could smell you as a packless Omega, he tried to not take pity on you, but it was impossible, yet his resolve stayed the same. Steve was an Alpha as well, but since he had mated with Jonathan, his protection only served for his mate, so Eddie became the leader of the pack instantly. 

You had tried to talk to him, to explain what had happened a year ago, but he wouldn’t listen. He had screamed at you to leave him alone in his Alpha voice, which only made you close your mouth, and step away from him. His heart broke as he smelled the fear in you, and how you left a lingering sour scent as you walked away from him. 

The first heat you suffered in Indianapolis was brutal.

You had nothing to nest with. You had no possessions of your pack, scents of the people you cared about, so you had to fake a nest with your sheets, putting them all around you to create a placebo effect– But your heat was painful, trying to pleasure yourself as your slick covered your entire bed, memories of Eddie helping you through it rushing in your mind which only made the pain even worse. 

You contemplated calling Robin, asking her to tell Eddie to come to your house, to help you– But you remembered how he had ordered you to stay away, and the omega inside you, the one that still held onto him as a mate, listened. 

When you met Billy Hargrove, a very powerful Alpha in the city, you really did believe you finally found a pack. You were talking non stop, getting to know each other, going on dates together, and Robin was very happy for you. She had been trying to make Eddie come to his senses about you joining the pack, afraid of what might happen to you, but Eddie refused once again telling Robin that you could manage alone because that was your decision a year ago.

Your heat was coming up and Billy had yet to scent you, so when you finally became intimate with him you were hoping he would. But he had remained away from you as he penetrated you, holding you down on the bed as he took what he wanted from you. Once it was over, you tried to nuzzle his neck, scent him and probably rub some of his on you. He pushed you away instantly and told you that he didn’t feel the connection he thought he would, and after three months of knowing him, he left you.

The second heat you suffered in Indianapolis was torture.

There were traces of Billy’s scent in some sheets, but it wasn’t enough for your nest, and you remembered the fact that he had decided you were not going to be his mate, only making the situation worse thanks to the rejection. You weren't good enough, he didn't want you, just like Eddie doesn't want you now.

Once again, you found yourself looking at your phone in order to call Robin, to bring you some of her clothes, maybe even get help from Steve who also, with his mate’s approval, wanted to scent you. 

Eddie’s fear settled in when Robin told him you had spent another heat alone, and he had been even angrier at you the past few months for dating another Alpha. Now knowing that your Alpha had left you alone in your worst time made him feel like dying and he wanted to murder the other man.

He cared for you and he cursed at himself for the pull you had on him still. It wasn’t fair. He had suffered triggered ruts due to your rejection, painful stabs in his gut and brain for the lack of you, the lack of your touches, your smell, your voice… 

You looked lifeless after your heat. Robin noticed and was going to go against Eddie’s orders as she prepared a bag with her clothes to give to you. You declined it. You were going to make Robin lose her pack, possibly, if she did this. If Eddie smelled himself on you without him actually scenting you, he would know that it was Robin. 

So now, it was your third heat in Indianapolis.

And it was murdering you.

Your fingers this time did find your phone, tears running down your face, as every single muscle in your body started tensing, slowly and painfully. It was Eddie’s birthday, and of course you were not invited. You wouldn’t have been able to attend anyways because you knew your calendar, and you knew it was close, but you weren’t prepared for how torturous it would be. 

Your bed had slicked sheets all over it, not even caring of making a make pretend nest with them any longer. Your closet was a mess as you tried to find something that didn’t have your smell on it because you could feel your heart about to explode and your whines could probably be heard all over your omega complex. You couldn't make a nest. You didn't have a nest.

You didn't have a pack. You didn't have a mate. No one wants you. You were never going to be able to have pups. You are a worthless and useless Omega.

So why keep trying?

Your body was on fire even if you had stripped to nothing, splashed yourself in cold water, until you had finally landed on your bed, unable to move. You couldn’t even touch yourself, you didn’t have any power left in you, but your fingers and hand could still move.

“Hello?” You heard Robin call your name as music blasted behind her. You opened your mouth only for your voice to get caught in your throat, choked small sobs escaped you and that’s when Robin lost it. “TURN THE FUCKING MUSIC DOWN!” 

“I-I–” You couldn’t speak, it was painful, it hurt, it hurt, it hurt.

“Baby, please, what’s wrong?” Robin panicked, pacing around the room as everyone stared at her, including Eddie whose gut was slowly falling to the ground. 

“S–Shirt– Please– I need it–” Your cracked voice, your sobs, and the whines. Everyone in the room could hear the whines. Steve immediately took his jacket off. Jonathan took his sweater off. Nancy didn’t know you, but her inner alpha became full alert at the sound and she understood in a single second what was going on, taking her cardigan off herself as well. Dustin stared at Eddie in disbelief as the Alpha male had wide eyes, head spinning around uncontrollably as he stared at Robin.

“I’m going, I’m going, I’m getting you stuff okay?! Just remember I’m going!” The phone clicked and Robin looked down at it with shaky hands and her head finally snapped towards Eddie and for the first time, something that almost never happened could be heard in the room. 

A Beta was actually defying an Alpha. 

A small growl was shot at Eddie’s way as she started gathering everyone’s belongings. Eddie at this point, did not care for his scent to be passed over, he didn’t care any longer. You were in danger and it was his fault. It was his fault. It was all his fault. He grabbed onto his car keys, despite Robin telling him that he shouldn’t come, that he is going to make everything worse, but he didn’t listen, he didn’t want to listen. 

So when they got to your complex, Robin used her spare keys to actually get inside as Eddie snuck in. He could smell the alarmed omegas at the scent of an Alpha in the building, but he had to get to you. He had to reach you in time. You were three floors up, and in the second one he could already smell you and it wasn’t sweet like the heats you spent with him. It wasn’t something that was triggering his arousal, or his need to mate you. It was triggering his need to save you.

And when Robin opened your door, even she couldn’t handle the smell, and Eddie almost hunched over at the pain it shot inside of him. Robin didn’t waste a second as she ran into your room, only to find you naked, sweat all over, body trembling and nonsense spouting out of your mouth. She panicked as she started placing everyone’s belongings around you and she took her shirt off, leaving her in her bra only, not caring at all about Eddie entering the room.

His eyes bulged out of his skull at the sight of you. His eyes filled with tears as his body yelled at him to go towards you, to hold you, to scent you, but he knew that would make it worse for you, because he had commanded you before to stay away from him. His heart was clenching inside his chest as Robin kneeled on the bed next to you, putting her shirt over your chest so you could smell her. She was crying as she held you, cradling you up so your face could hit her chest.

“I’m here! I– I brought everyone’s scents, I put them all around you baby, I’m here–” Robin was choking sobs as you stared at the ceiling, completely gone, mumbles coming out of your mouth that she started to be able to listen and understand, only for her heart and the Alpha’s that was still shocked in the room, break in pieces.

“I-I can’t smell them, I can’t–” You lost your sense of smell. Rejection was present in your core, your mind, your heart and Robin could smell it becoming stronger. “I–I’m useless, I have no pack– n-no one wants m-my pups– No one wants me–”

Eddie wanted to yell, tell you that he does, tell you that he is here, tell you that he was a fucking idiot, tell you that he still loves you and he still believes you are his mate, that you have always been and always will despite you rejecting him.

“Baby, baby, you’re not, you’re not, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m here–” You weren’t processing Robin’s words, the word useless repeating in your head all the time, like a mantra. You were rejected, an outcast, and the only person you thought of as your long lasting mate didn’t want anything to do with you.

And then, your body stopped trembling, and Robin saw how your features relaxed, your eyes became half-lidded as if in a sleepy state, and your body weight was heavier than before. Robin looked all over you to see signs of movement, anything at all, but even your smell was gone. 

You dropped. 

And Eddie, Eddie felt like killing himself for it. 

“This is all your fault… I shouldn’t have listened to you…”

Eddie refused to leave your side, despite Robin and even Nancy wanting him to leave the room. Steve and Jonathan didn’t even look his way, and Eddie knew he was losing his pack, but at this point he didn’t care, he deserved it, all of it. His scent was almost unbearable for everyone else in the room, musky but in a very bad way, almost rotten. 

You were in a hospital room. Your whole body was connected to IVs, to machines, your beating heart still heard on the small monitor, that only made a tiny bit on everyone’s minds have some peace. They had surrounded your body with clothes, accessories, even socks just to try to make you feel safe again.

Suddenly, a sob could be heard in the room, a low groan, almost a whine but not quite because he can’t manage to do that. His head was in his hands as he stared down at the floor and Dustin, despite his friend acting wrongly, he still decided to walk over to him and crouch to pass onto him his still pup smell. He still hasn’t presented, even at 15 years old, despite his friends already done so. 

“P-Please Dustin, h-her.” Eddie choked and Dustin understood immediately, walking over to your still body and leaning down to dip his head into the crook of your neck. He whined when he couldn’t smell you, still he rubbed his face against your skin, trying to make his scent linger. 

You didn’t wake.

Days passed, then a week, and Eddie was becoming desperate, feral even and in the bad way. He was pacing back and forth in his room, and he decided to go against his pack’s orders. He started putting on clothes, shirts, pants, and in each one, he did some push ups in order for him to sweat even more than before. He had gathered almost all of the shirts he owned, his sweatshirts, pants, hoodies, bandanas, even underwear and put it all in a duffel bag. 

He rushed to the hospital like a maniac and when he entered the room he commanded everyone to get out. Jonathan flinched at his orders and immediately rushed out, but Eddie sensed the defying Beta in the room that was covering your body protectively for him to not come any closer. 

“Robin, please– Please–” He knew it was karma. He had denied everyone else to scent you, and now, Robin was out of his pack, his scent no longer lingering over her because she wouldn’t let him come close to her, and she was the one that now didn’t want his scent over you.

But Robin was desperate too. You were a great friend to her, helped her deal with her undying love for Nancy, knowing it can’t ever happen. Betas and Alphas are a rare pair, and she didn’t think Nancy would want a Beta as her long mate. She couldn’t even bite her. They would never be able to mate.

They had tried everything, switching clothes everyday, Dustin coming over to try to scent you but his pup smell was very dim due to his age. The only one that hadn’t put any clothes around your nest, was Eddie. Your past mate. Your past Alpha. 

Robin was completely desperate.

Enough so that she actually left the room. Eddie immediately got to work, taking his clothes out of the bag to put them alongside everyone else's, all around you in order to make a nest. His tears ran down his face, his head painfully throbbing as your eyes remained closed, an oxygen mask over your mouth and nose.

How could he forgive himself for this? How could he live with the thought of you stuck in a bed because of what he did? 

“Darling, please open your eyes…” His face came close to yours after many months of dying to do so, after a year and a half of doing it for the last time while you two laid on his bed back at the trailer park. You didn’t want his scent on you so you two wouldn’t be caught, but that night he couldn’t help himself, and you didn’t either. The next day, you rejected him.

His face nuzzled your neck, his mouth traced your skin, placing soft kisses as he cried for not being able to smell you. That sweet smell he remembered every night, every day, at every hour. He wrapped his hand at the back of your neck in order to lift you up slightly so he could rub his scent gland against yours, repeating the action on the other side. 

A gasp was heard in the room as the heart rate monitor picked up slightly. 

His eyes widened as he pulled away to see your eyes staring widely at the ceiling, not understanding what’s going on, why you’re here, why is his scent all over you, why does he feel so close to you? You were choking into the mask, gasping for air, and you felt arms cradle you into a chest.

Alpha. Alpha. Your Alpha?

“Hi Sweetheart.” He choked out as he felt you breathe against him, his head right on top of yours as he held you close. Your body relaxed into him, memories vividly replaying in your head, memories you’ve always wanted to repeat, memories that made you want to go back in time and not listen to your father. 

Your nose picked up various scents now, aside from Eddie, you could smell Robin. Even as a Beta she made sure to put her smell all over her clothes. You could smell Steve, Jonathan, an alpha you don’t know of but the smell was welcome either way… And you could smell the faint scent of a pup. A pup was here. A pup scented you.

You were safe. 

Eddie pulled away from you to look at your face again, and finally locked eyes with yours. Eyes that no longer held resentfulness, but guilt. Eyes that no longer held anger, but grief. Eyes that no longer held hate, but love. Pure and unconditional love. He didn’t care what happened in the past. He didn’t care any longer, but he cannot forgive himself for what he did to you. He cannot forgive himself for being the cause of all of this. He cannot forgive himself for causing you this much pain that you had to shut your brain off in order to go to a safer place. 

You smelled his bitterness, painful, making your stomach turn uncomfortably. You reached up to take the mask off your face and you couldn’t be away from him again. This time you will fight for your alpha. You will show him how much you want him, how much you’ve wanted him for the past year, how much you needed him the few months you’ve been in the city. 

So you let out calming pheromones from your body. He was hit with them immediately, making his shoulders relax as you held onto him. Clarity filled your head the more you looked at him, the more you stared at his features. His face contorted again, a frown appearing in his eyebrows as tears started spilling out of his eyes uncontrollably.

“I’m sorry– I’m– I’m so sorry–” He sobbed against you, wrapping his arms around you so he could dip his face into the crook of your neck again and his cries were louder as your scent filled his nostrils again. It was just like he remembered, but he didn’t understand why it was sweet and not sour. He didn’t understand why you didn’t pull away. He didn’t understand why you didn’t hate him.

And that’s when you told him everything as his face stayed still on your neck.

“I wanted to protect you…” You finished saying as tears rolled down your cheeks, uncontrollably so, and he pulled away to reveal his stained cheeks, a wild look on his face. He gulped as he rushed to take off his pick necklace, looking down at it only for then to show it to you in his hands, presenting it. 

You smiled at it through your tears because it was the same courting gift he had tried to give you back in Hawkins– and this time, you took it. 

Three months later, you were laughing while drinking a beer with Robin on your side while her hand was being held by Nancy on her other side. Steve had his arm around the new Alpha in the room who claimed he was going to be the next leader of the pack because the last one had already retired. Jonathan rolled his eyes at Dustin every time he said that, with a hand resting on his belly.

Eddie walked into the room with a beer in hand and sat next to you, on your other side in his couch, your couch, and dropped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. Robin rolled her eyes knowing the conversation was over now as she put her attention on Nancy while your eyes found Eddie’s. He smiled as he leaned towards you to press a deep kiss on your lips. 

You smiled in between the kiss, reciprocating it as you pressed a hand on his knee. You heard a growl rumbling in his chest and you couldn’t help but giggle at his reaction, making you pull away from his lips. 

“If I pop a knot right here, it’s entirely your fault.”

“You’re the horndog.” He rolled his eyes at you and leaned down to press a soft kiss in between your neck and shoulder, making you shiver as a smile spread all over your lips.

He kissed right over his bite mark.

I did say it was hurt/comfort.

Anyways, hope you enjoyed, sorry if I didn't get it right, this is my first time writing about an Omega actually dropping.

Also if you're new in the omegaverse thing, yes, males get pregnant because they have the secondary gender, meaning they have vajayjays and uterus as well as their shafts.

Alpha females have dicks but cannot get pregnant.

That's all.

[johnskleats]

is anyone going to tell the kat@angers that it's not feminist activism to argue Katara's arc in LOK is fine on the grounds that "some women want to be homemakers and that's okay!!"

Like you're not helping real women that way. In fact, most antis for the cannon ship ARE women. Many are homemakers themselves.

Katara is not a real woman. She is a fictional woman written by men.

Can the sensibilities and wishes of a girl change by the time she is a adult? Yes!

But as this is a textual character who, as per the text, rejects the societal structure of her fictional world (which mirrors our own) that women are and can only ever be docile homemakers (i.e. I don't want to heal, I want to fight; I will never turn my back on people who need me; let's start a prison riot; let's engage in vigilante ecoterrorism; let's pitch an absolute fit because the boys are not pulling their fair weight in the homemaking; let's confront my mother's killer at the absolute rejection and condemnation of the male figures whom I am to respect; etc) it is perfectly reasonable to argue that this end was not a natural course for her character.

Fictional characters are not real people. This means that they do not change their mind off screen. That is not an acceptable argument. That is called a "plot hole", which is a nonsensical change made at the convenience and contrivance of the writer(s), who in this case are men exhibited to not care for women or girls all that much. It is within THEIR character to write this way.

Regardless of who, if anyone, Katara ended up with, Katara tolerating disrespect, neglect, abuse of her children, giving up all of her former aspirations to live in the shadow of men, and dying as a mere footnote in history (and being alright with it!!) is not surprising given the absolute vitriol Bryke has shown toward female fans of their "creation". It was supposed to be a "boy" show. It was always supposed to be a "boy" show. The creators of Supernatural and Game of Thrones did the same thing. ATLA just did it first.

Arguing "not all women" is not activism in the face of what is really happening in this discourse. Sending death threats to real, actual women with feelings in defense of a fake pretend woman's fake pretend autonomy is performative activism, and worse, hypocritical.

Not all women agree with you. Not all women feel represented and find the outcome of Katara's story satisfactory. If y'all care about feminism and respecting women's choices so much, lay off the real life women you're so fond of harassing. Our views and opinions, while opposing your own, don't affect you.

[hyunsvngs]

lowkey college has been kicking my ass big time 😭

all i can do to stop myself from having 8 mental breakdowns an hour is thinking abt college bf minho <33

like imagine you'd come back to ur dorm stressed after exams and he would just fuck you senseless until all you could think about was him <3

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 - college au!lee minho x fem!reader

wc: 2k

cw: SMUT MDNI.

synopsis: your cutie college student boyfriend agrees to help you into subspace to take your mind off of your stressful exams.

a/n: idk. i just dont know this happened and i’m not apologising. enjoy. smut warnings under da cut as per!! this is just a lil one but i hope u enjoy<3

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: d/s dynamics, oral (f rec), mating press position, unprotected sex, creampie, subspace & mentions of domspace, petnames: kitty & jagi, HEAVY dirty talk, mentions of pubes (as per)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You could barely see the streets on your walk home, eyes bleary with tears and giving you absolutely zero navigation skills. The only saving grace was knowing that your boyfriend, Minho, was in your room and readily awaiting your return. He was lucky to not have any exams this term, only assignments, and you were unlucky to have controlled exams in every single class.

The exam you’d done that day had been the worst thus far. You knew nothing. The whole exam you’d been sat there, hand on your temples just trying desperately to remember something, but nothing had come to you. You’d ended up writing absolute nonsense before packing up your stuff and leaving, crying the whole way home.

Minho was perched on your bed when you entered. His glasses were round, perched securely on his sharp nose and he was casual, hoodie and joggers both grey and clean. There was an anime playing on his laptop, and he was staring at it while shoving crisps into his mouth. When you entered, a small sniffle giving away your return, Minho’s eyes snapped immediately to you.

“Oh,” He blurted, immediately rising to sit up. You dropped your bag on the floor and Minho’s hands went straight to your hips, still covered in some salt from the crisps he was eating. He pulled you into his lap, settled on his thick, dancer’s thighs. When he pushed the hair out of your eyes, it almost broke his heart. “Oh, jagi. Jagi, why are you sad? Did it not go well?”

“Hmph, no,” You sniffed, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. Minho sighed, rubbing your back over your t-shirt. “I knew nothing.”

“You may have done better than you think, y’know? Don’t stress too much,” Minho’s voice was low, soothing, intertwining with the anime still playing on his laptop. “What can I do to help? Do you wanna watch this with me?”

“Mm, don’t have the attention span right now,” What else could he do? Your thoughts immediately went to the sewers. You were settled on top of his thighs, and you could feel them, clenching and unclenching and… yeah. You knew what you wanted to do. “Min. Could you… take my mind off of it?”

“Take your mind off of it?” He repeated, eyes soft when you finally emerged from his neck. He gazed into your eyes, a loving, fond look in his own. Then, the penny dropped. He blinked, and then he was smirking, hands starting to stroke over your hips instead. “You want me to fuck you, jagi?”

“Please,” You nodded, hands gripping the fabric of his hoodie. “Do that thing, the thing where you… make me feel all fuzzy, ‘n stuff. The thing where I don’t think.”

Minho tilted his head to the side. “You want me to dom you, pretty girl? Send you into subspace?”

Well, when he says it like that… “Yes.”

“On your back.”

You were quick to oblige, stretching leisurely onto your back on your little twin bed. The downsides of having a dorm room, you supposed, but at least your flatmates were fine with you having Minho present constantly. Minho shut his laptop, and then he was looming over you, a strong figure of authority despite having such casual clothing on.

“You know what to say if you need me to stop,” He mumbled, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “Say it.”

“Red,” You felt out of breath already when his lips trailed to your neck, sucking marks into the skin with eagerness. Minho was gorgeous, and he was even better in bed, especially when he got like this - his dom headspace was the sexiest thing you’d ever seen in your life, and you’d swear by that. He was experienced with it. He knew what he was doing.

You were convinced even more so of that when his lips met your earlobe, his tone low as he pulled your jeans down. “I’m going to eat this sloppy cunt, and then I’m going to fuck you until you don’t know your own name. Got it?”

“Oh my God, please-“

“Stop whining like a little bitch, or I’ll treat you like one,” He nipped your earlobe with his teeth, and then he was moving to position between your thighs. Your underwear wasn’t exciting, just a simple white cotton, but the way Minho looked at you made you feel like a supermodel. He was staring directly at the wet patch starting to soak the fabric, and you shifted, wanting his mouth on you, like, yesterday.

As if he could read your mind, his nose pressed into your core and he inhaled. It was such a strong scenting that you could hear it, his lips parting to let out a small sigh afterwards. Then, his tongue was pressing over the cotton, soaking it with his spit.

“Mm, it’s good. Maybe I need a better taste, yeah?” You nodded at Minho, making him chuckle. He reached up and hooked his thumbs into your underwear, pulling it down and exposing you to the room. You knew your folds were wet and could feel as much when the air hit them - your clit was engorged and poking out of your pussy, begging for attention.

Minho clearly felt pity on you, because his lips were instantly wrapping around your clit and sucking. You gasped, hips bucking up into your touch, and he was quick to pin them down into the mattress with one small hand. From this angle, you could see where half of his body laid off the end of the bed, knees planted on the floor to be closer to you. His tongue laved over the button between your legs, and when his dark feline eyes looked up at you, you knew you were done.

“Min- Min, please, can I have fingers, too? I- I need, need to cum, need-“

“Will you shut up?” Minho pulled away, licking his lips. You would’ve been shocked, but Minho knew him being mean was a sure way to send you into that headspace you so desperately needed to be in. “I know how to make this pussy cum, so don’t fucking tell me what to do.”

With that, he was lowering his head back into your core. Both hands splayed across your hips to keep you grounded, and his tongue swiped through your folds, collecting the slick that had accumulated there. You let your hand drop down to his hair, enveloping the dark strands and pulling slightly against them. It made Minho let out a deep, brief noise, and then he was eating you like a man starved.

The way he was licking between your folds and against your clit had your eyes rolling back, fingers gripping the sheets. It was so, so good, you felt so sensitive, and your head was feeling fuzzy already. He was just so good in bed. His tongue started to trace circles on your clit, and you whined, heavy breaths tumbling from your lungs.

“Gon’ cum,” You slurred, licking your lips to try and bring you back to reality. “Gonna- gonna fucking cum, Min, I can’t-“

“You’re gonna cum?” He pulled away, thumb now rubbing your clit to keep you on the edge. “You know you can’t though. Not until I say you can, yeah?”

You whimpered, thrashing around. “I needa. Need to cum, need to be good, good kitty, am I- hng, am I good kitty? I can’t hold it, I can’t! ‘S too good-“

“Be a good fucking kitty and hold it,” He had shifted now, you realised, face now close to you again. His thumb continued to circle your clit and you gripped his arm tightly, toes curling into the sheets. It was too much. You were going to cum. “Fucking hold it. Do as I say. Do you want my cock?”

Your eyes flickered down to the bulge in his joggers, huge and pulsating. You nodded eagerly, trying your best to focus on anything that wasnt the ache in your core and clenching of your thighs. Then, Minho moved, yanking down his joggers and boxers to position his cock at your entrance. You wanted to cry at the feeling of your orgasm dissipating.

“I’m going to fuck you,” Minho said, forearms supporting him above you. “I’m going to fuck you, and you’re going to cum on my cock.”

“Yeah, I’ll cum,” You mumbled, eyes bleary - although now for a different reason. Minho smiled at you, and then he was pushing in, thick length stretching your hole in the most delicious way. You moaned, hands moving to grip his biceps again as he immediately set a blistering pace.

“Legs up. C’mon, be a good kitty,” Minho pushed your thighs up, and you obediently wrapped your hands around them. He was deeper like this, chest pressing your legs into your body and cockhead ramming against your g-spot. The smattering of hair at his base rubbed against your clit in an awkward, yet satisfying friction, and before you knew it, you were on the edge again.

“‘M close again, Min,” You whined, lips parting. You were drooling, you could feel it, but you had to wait until he said. “Kitty needs to cum.”

“Kitty needs to, does she?” He scoffed, but pressed a kiss to your forehead nonetheless. “Well, kitty better soak my cock then.”

Your jaw dropped in an incoherent moan as you clenched around Minho’s cock, walls pulsating as you let yourself go. The orgasm was white hot, building in your core and travelling down to where your toes curled and up to where your back arched. You could feel it gushing, soaking Minho and the hair that adorned the base of his shaft. Minho groaned, and then he reached down with one hand, squishing your cheeks together to look at him. His pace didn’t falter, still bullying into your g-spot.

“You alright, jagi?” He asked, thumb stroking your bottom lip. You hummed, letting your body be jostled by the forcefulness of his thrusts. It felt like you were floating on a fluffy cloud, even more so after your orgasm - you couldn’t even remember what you’d been so worried about. “There we go. That’s it, you just float like that for me. You don’t need to think about anything, kitty.”

“Need cum,” You murmured, huffing when Minho laughed at you.

“I’m gonna give you my cum, kitty, I’ve got you,” He pulled your hips up, and then he was fucking up into you like you were a fleshlight. You tried to force your eyes open, and you didn’t regret it when they did. Minho’s body was covered in a sheen of sweat, soft dew on his honey skin and his eyebrows furrowed as he ploughed into you. The feeling was almost enough to get you to cum again, if you really focused, but you couldn’t. All you could think was Minho, Minho, Minho. “Let me fuck you like this. J-just, nice and hard, and I’ll-“

“Cum,” You repeated, shifting to fuck back onto his cock. You whined as he gripped your hips tighter, and then he was gasping, eyes widening. He was curled over you, jaw dropped.

“I’m gonna cum, gonna fill this fucking cunt, oh- oh, jagi-“ He was nearly whining, making you clench in approval of the tone of his voice. Minho collapsed over you, hips jolting in a staccato rhythm as he filled you up with his cum. You could feel it in your hole, wet and dripping. He pulled out of you with a now-softening cock, eyes following the leaking of his cum out of your abused pussy. Instead of moving, he collapsed on top of your body, nuzzling at your throat.

“‘M so relaxed,” You giggled, letting Minho kiss your nose.

“I bet,” Minho hummed in response. “I’ll let you float like this for a bit, but then you gotta come back to me, ‘kay?”

“Mmkay,” You chirped. “Cuddles.”

Minho chuckled, moving to lay by your side to pull you close. “Of course, jagi.”

[nymphoniah]

mercy, mercy me | logan howlett

pairing: old man!logan x younger!reader

AN: lordddd i can’t stop thinking about old man!logan and younger!reader. literally had to pace my room and smoke a cig just thinking about how i need him to baby me.

content/tags: old man!logan, implied age gap (reader is in their 20’s), angst, pet names (doll, princess, etc.), logan can’t say no to you, you make him an absolute mess!

he knows it’s wrong to be with you—he has a terrible, gut wrenching feeling about it, but logan ignores it all. you have him wrapped around your finger.

you’re his doll, his everything.

logan can’t wrap his mind around the fact that a sweet little thing like you loves a flawed man like him. he’s rough around the edges, a man who’s lost his way, but you seem to look past that.

your innocence clashes with his abrasive, standoffish demeanor. he hurts the people he loves, and manages to push them away before they get too close.

but you’re stubborn, it’s almost childish. you love him at his worst, and always will. nothing can deter you from being with logan, even if it’s himself.

“i’m too old for you, doll,” he coos, pressing a chaste kiss to the back of your hand, intertwined with his own, his skin rugged from all the fights of the past. “i don’t deserve you.”

you pout, tightening your grip around him. “don’t push me away, logan”, you murmur, pressing your face against his chest, burrowing yourself as close to him as possible.

“you don’t know what you’re sayin’,” he quips, his words sounding bitter, but his body showing otherwise. logan’s free hand moves to the back of your head, rubbing slow, soft circles that soothes you.

“i know what i want,” you whine into his chest, cheeks turning red from a combination of frustration and neediness.

“i want you, logan. i want to be with you,” you add hastily. and the heat of the moment finally gets to you, and you feel tears forming.

you stain his white button down with splotches of a faint gray; tears flowing endlessly as you continue to sob.

you’re lost in your own mind, uttering complete nonsense. don’t do this, i know what i want. i know you want this too, don’t deny it. don’t deny me.

logan’s heart completely shatters at your words. he’s silent for a brief moment, unsure how to respond.

you’re absolutely right—he wants to continue this relationship, it’s the only thing he’s got going for himself. he doesn’t want to let you go. if he did, he’d be letting a part of himself go.

he pulls you into a tight embrace, his muscular arms caging you in. logan presses a kiss against your temple, one hand pushing you further into his chest, and the other finding purchase at your hips, giving you a comforting squeeze.

“if whatever we have is wrong,” you barely manage to whimper out between your sobs, “then i don’t wanna be right.”

logan lets out a small chuckle, and you can feel his chest vibrating against you. the moment is bittersweet, but you can feel him ease up.

his mind’s now set on one thing, and he knows for certain— it’s you. and he’ll do absolutely anything for you.

“don’t worry, princess,” he lulls, leaning back so he’s able to wipe the tears away from your face.

“i’ve got you.”

[redvexillum]

TAGS/WARNINGS: f!reader, big c♡ck!Val, light degradati♡n kink, Val is in hell for a reason, p in v, naive!reader, dub-con, betrayal, angst, praise kink, sub!reader, rough s♡x, hair pulling, multiple ♡rgasm (f!recieving), dirty talk, daddy dom/sub undertone, fing♡ring, cervix f♡cking, ♡verstimulation, thr♡at f♡cking, g♡slighting, first time writing Val, Val is the warning

WORD COUNT: 5.7K~

SPECIAL MENTION: @crackrodent (my fellow VoxTek Server member), your request has been heard. Here you go.

In your bleakest hour, when the darkness of Hell threatened to swallow you whole, a saviour came in the form of a devil – no, a man. A man, tall and lanky, his grin hidden behind the oversized, heart-shaped sunglasses that glittered with charm. His suit, sleek and pristine, seemed to gleam in the dim light of his studio, its fabric cool against your fingertips. His antennae resembled delicate strands of beads, swaying gently with each movement, while the fur collar draped around his neck was impossibly soft, like brushing your hand against velvet clouds.  

You sank into the plush couch, its cushions cradling you as though welcoming you into his world of luxury. As you leaned forward, the silence of the room wrapped around you, broken only by the gentle press of your lips against his. Valentino’s touch, ever so light, cradled your cheek with the upper set off his arms, the pads of his fingers warm and tender. His lower arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you firmly against him, a possessive embrace that held you still beneath his gaze.  

“Ah, baby,” he cooed, his voice rich and decadent, like the taste of something forbidden and wild. His red eyes, muted behind his tinted glasses, traced every inch of your face. “I’d love to make you a star.” 

Your breath hitched, heat flooding your cheeks. “Val, I…I’m not good at acting,” you murmured, almost shrinking under the intensity of his gaze. You could still remember the days he found you – lost, chased by heartless demons, terrified. He’d stepped in with his effortless charm, offered your shelter, safety, everything you could ever want and more. He gave it all so freely, draping you in luxury that felt like a dream, love that you had never known before.  

He chuckled, a sound so smooth it sent a shiver down your spine. “Nonsense, cariño,” he whispered, each word sliding from his lips like honey. His hand pressed against your chest, gently pushing you back into the couch’s soft embrace. “Look at you,” he purred, a predatory grin stretching his lips, revealing the glint of his golden tooth. “You’re absolutely stunning.” He leaned closer, the heat of his breath grazing your skin like a soft whisper. “You’re sexy,” he murmured, his fingers brushing over your collarbone. “And you voice…” His lips hovered near your neck, his breath hot against your skin. “Absolutely divine.” 

Your body reacted before your mind could process, your pulse quickening as heat pooled in your core. “V-Val…” you breathed, voice trembling with anticipation. He’d made love to you before, always so tender, so careful – his touch was slow, calculated, and worshipful. Every time, he ensured you reached the stars before him.  

He was patient.  

He was kind.  

He was your everything.  

“At least audition for my movie, won’t you?” Val’s voice slid through you like silk, pulling you under the weight of his will. It always did. His hands, those skilled, knowing hands, never stopped their caresses. “You don’t have to worry, I’ll take care of everything for you. I always do.” 

A soft giggle escaped your lips, though your nerves frayed at the edges. “I guess I can try,” you whispered, fingertips tracing the sharp line of his jaw, finding comfort in the familiar feel of his skin. “But…you won’t be angry if I fail, right?” The words were hesitant, the shadow of doubt clinging to your tone. You searched his face, wanting to find reassurance that had always been there.  

“Of course not, cariño.” Valentino placed a soft kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “I could never be angry at you.” Another kiss followed, but this one felt colder, more distant.  

“I love you, Val,” you sighed, letting your eyes flutter shut as you melted into his embrace, your arms tightening around his chest. His scent – rich, intoxicating, almost suffocating – filled your senses, and you held on to it, onto him, like a lifeline. “I love you so much,” you repeated, your words trembling with a vulnerability you weren’t sure he’d ever truly hear.  

He laughed, a low rumble vibrating through his chest. He never said it back. He never had. But you had convinced yourself it was fine. He’d told you once that love took time, that he needed to learn how to feel it. And you had promised to wait for him – for however long it took.  

“My heart,” Val murmured against your skin, his lips brushing down the length of your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. His fingers slipped beneath your shirt, the tips cool against the flush of your skin. You shuddered, helpless under his touch, every nerve alighted as he traced, slow, deliberate patterns across your bare flesh.  

“A-ah, Val…” Your voice trembled as his fingers roamed higher, teasing, ghosting over the curve of your breast. His touch, light as a feather, sent a surge of warmth coursing through you. But something pulled your attention – a sharp glint in the corner of your eye.  

A camera.  

Its lens was pointed directly at the couch. The red light blinked in the shadows, cold and unfeeling.  

“W-wait, Val!” You gasped, your heart lurching as his tongue, long and sinuous, slid over your neck, leaving a trail of icy wetness in its wake.  

The room’s heat pressed in around you, the air thick with the heady scent of Valentino’s cologne mixed with something far more primal. You barely registered the cool sensation of the leather couch beneath you before Val’s lower arms were sliding under your skirt, his fingers deftly hooking into the delicate g-string he’d gifted you.  

“Mmm, baby, you know that’s my favourite set,” he murmured, his voice dripping with casual possession as the fabric tore under his grip. The shredded lingerie hit the floor with a careless flick of his wrist. “Don’t worry. I’ll buy you plenty more,” he added, voice smooth but laced with that dangerous, predatory edge, as his fingers found the wetness between your legs. His fingers slipped through your folds with a familiarity that sent a helpless shudder up your spine.  

You gasped, your thighs trembling as his fingers danced over your slick heat. He moved with the precision of someone who knew exactly where to touch, how to touch, as each motion was designed to unravel you so. “I…I…ha…ha…” Your words dissolved into breathless moans as he dipped into your core, gathering the wetness there before rubbing slow circles into the swollen nub that made you jolt under his touch.  

“Th-the ca-camera,” you finally managed to choke out, a moan slipping past your lips as he kept circling that sensitive bundle of nerves, your spine arching instinctively toward his touch. You couldn’t stop the sound that escaped from you, something desperate and raw. God, the way he played your body was criminal.  

Val’s breath, hot and tickling the shell of your ear, made you tremble. “Don’t worry about it, baby,” he whispered, his voice a velvety purr that slithered down your spine, pooling low in your belly. “You trust me, don’t you?” His breath brushed against your skin, and you could feel the heat of him, a roaring furnace of want hovering just over you.  

Your mouth opened, another moan tearing from your throat as he pressed two fingers into you, the wet sound of him fucking your slick folds filling the room. “I…I trust you with all my heart,” you whimpered, your hips instinctively grinding against his hand, chasing the pressure, the release. His fingers curled inside you, and you felt the pleasure blooming with each movement, the slow smouldering burn becoming an insistent need.  

“You’re going to come for me, baby,” Val panted, his eyes gleaming with dark hunger, his lips parted, red saliva dripping in thick, viscous lines from the corners of his mouth. “Then you’re going to take daddy’s big cock, aren’t you?” His voice was a low, sultry growl, his fingers quickening their relentless pace, the sound of your arousal slick and obscene.  

All you could do was nod, biting down on your lip to suppress the rising moans threatening to spill from you. Your legs parted wider without thinking, your body offering itself to him as his second set of hands gripped you harder, keeping you in place as he ripped your shirt, skirt, and bra from your body, the sound of fabric tearing like distant thunder.  

The cold air hit your exposed skin, your nipples hardening in response as he held you down, his fingers still driving you closer to that edge, pushing and pulling you into the pleasure with ruthless expertise.  

Your vision blurred, the room narrowing to just the sensations of his fingers, the way they pressed and curled inside you, the pressure building higher, tighter, a coil ready to snap apart. “Ah…ah! F-f-f-” you stammered, each thrust making you shake, your body arching off the couch. His grin widened, sharp and wicked, as he watched you, relishing the sight of you coming undone beneath him.  

“That’s right, baby,” Val cooed, his voice a velvet blade, slicing through the haze of your thoughts as the sound of wet, rhythmic slapping filled the space between you. “Come for daddy.” His chuckle reverberated through you, the final push that sent you careening over the edge.  

With a scream, your body snapped taut, the orgasm hitting you hard and fast. Your heels dug into the couch as you thrashed under his unrelenting touch. He didn’t stop, his fingers still plunging in and out, drawing out ever last wave of pleasure until you were nothing more but a trembling and panting bitch in heat from his hands.  

“Oh, baby,” Val crooned, his eyes gleaming crimson as he watched your chest rise and fall. His lips dripped that unnatural red saliva, a few droplets landing on the curve of your breast. “You look so beautiful when you come.” His voice was thick with desire, but also something darker – something possessive.  

You grinned weakly, basking in the praise despite the exhaustion. Even now, after he’d torn you apart with pleasure, you still craved his approval, his validation. But then you saw him unzip his pants, his cock springing free, thick and veined. Its lilac hue pulsed with each heartbeat, and the tip beaded with evidence of his arousal. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in the sight, the sheer size of him still intimidating, even though you’d been here before.  

But then, though the haze of lingering pleasure, reality crept back in – the audition. Your audition. The reason you were even here today.  

“Val,” you began, your voice small, hesitating. You swallowed hard, the words almost painful to get out. “What about the audition?” You wrung your hands together nervously, your body instinctively curling in on itself. “I…I don’t want to be late. I promised I’d be there on time and I don't want to disappoint you…” 

Val smiled, but it wasn’t the warm, comforting smile you’d grown used to. It was indulgent, knowing. “Oh, my precious little girl,” he murmured, his voice laced with saccharine sweetness as his fingers closed around your wrist, pulling you back into his orbit. His touch was warm, reassuring, and for a moment, you forgot why you’d been so anxious. “As long as you’re with me, you don’t have to worry about a thing.” 

Your breath hitched as he guided your hand to his cock, your fingers wrapping around the solid heat of him. He was impossibly thick, your hand dwarfed by his length, and as you felt the weight of him, all thoughts of the audition melted away.  

You knew what he wanted. The air between you crackled with tension, and with a shy, teasing smile, you leaned forward. Your lips brushed the swollen head of his cock, its heat palpable even before you pressed a lingering kiss against it. The musky scent of him filled your senses, the salt of his pre-cum lingering on your tongue as you opened your mouth, taking in the bulbous tip. The taste was intoxicating, heady, and dizzying.  

Before you could react, his fingers twisted into your hair, a sharp tug, forcing your mouth further onto him. You whimpered, hands scrambling to grip his thighs, pleading with the pressure of your fingers that it was too much.  

But he didn’t care. His hips moved forward, relentless, the thick shaft pushing past your lips, stretching them beyond comfort. Your eyes fluttered shut as his cock slid across your tongue, heavy and pulsing. You felt him filling your mouth, pushing deeper and deeper, and the first flutter of panic set in when he hit the back of your throat.  

“You can take more, can’t you, baby?” His voice was a low purr above you, filled with dark, honeyed encouragement. “Daddy knows you’re such a good girl.” 

Your throat convulsed, trying to adjust, your lips already aching from the stretch as he sank deeper. You gagged around him, tears stinging your eyes, but your determination to please him held you in place. The taste of him, the weight of him, filled your senses completely.  

Your nails dug into his skin, a desperate plea to slow down, but he only chuckled, stroking your head as if you were some cherished pet. “Mmm, that’s it. I knew you could handle it.” 

Every inch of him seemed to demand more, pushing past your limits. You couldn’t seal your lips fully around him; he was far too thick. Your mouth couldn’t close properly, but it didn’t matter. The wet, sloppy sounds of your struggle filled the room, along with your gags and his low, satisfied grunts.  

Drool spilled from the corners of your mouth, trailing down your chin, dripping onto your thighs as your gag reflex betrayed you. Your nostrils flared desperately, fighting for air.  

His grip tightened, forcing your head in rhythm with his hips, controlling you completely. He moaned, and the sound vibrated through your core, making your legs squeezed together, desperate for friction. You could hear his pleasure, feel it in the way his cock twitched as it slipped deeper into your throat.  

The room blurred, tears spilling down your face, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as you struggled for breath. Everything was too much – his taste, his weight, his voice, the pressure in your throat as he pushed past the brink of your tolerance.  

Then, suddenly, he pulled out, your lungs heaving as you gasped for air. His cock, now slick with your saliva, glistened in the light as it hovered in front of your face. You coughed, a thick strand of spit connecting your lips to his cock snapped away. 

“Such a good little thing, aren’t you?” His voice was darkly sweet, laced with approval. He tugged on your hair, lifting you, repositioning you with ease as if you weighed nothing. His lower hands cupped your ass, lifting you until you were straddling him, his cock nudging insistently at your entrance.  

“I can’t…” Your voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. You shook your head, trying to regain some control, but even the thought of sitting on him made your body tremble. “Val, please, I can’t take it all.” 

Val laughed softly, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours. “Oh, baby, but you will.” His confidence was undeniable, his grin wicked. Unexpectedly, he gripped your hips and pulled you down, forcing the head of his cock inside you.  

The stretch was immediate, intense, and you gasped, your fingers curling into the lapels of his jacket as your body struggled to accommodate his size. “Oh, fuck,” you whimpered, your walls fluttering around him, trying to adjust to the intrusion. Every nerve was on fire, pleasure and pain melding together in a dizzying mix as his fingers found your nipples, tweaking and pulling until you cried out.  

“That’s right. Let daddy hear how much you love it,” he crooned, his voice a rough whisper. “You’re doing so well for me,” 

You bit your lips, eyes rolling back as he pushed deeper. The sensation was overwhelming, his cock stretching you impossibly wide, filling you in ways that made your head spin. “So big,” you whimpered, hips trembling as you tried to make space for him, but there wasn’t enough.  

He grunted, and with one swift motion, he pushed even deeper, a sharp gasp escaping you. He was at the end of you, pressing into places you didn’t know could be touched, but he didn’t stop. He kept going, inch by agonizing inch, until you were sure he would split you open.  

“Oh, God…oh fuck,” you panted, your hands falling slack against his chest as you focused on breathing through the intense pressure building inside you. He held your waist firmly, his grip possessive, controlling, as if daring your body to resist him.  

“You’re taking me so well,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear, soft encouragement like music to your soul. “Almost there, mi amor.” 

Tears filled your eyes then. 

This was the first time.  

This was the first time Val had ever called you mi amor.

Mi amor.  

My love.  

Love.  

You could feel him inside you, every thick vein, every inch of his cock as it stretched your body to its limits. Your belly bulged slightly where he pressed against you, a faint outline visible as he finally seated him fully inside you.  

With one final hard thrust, he slammed you down onto his cock, and a scream tore from your throat. Your back arched as the shock of it rippled through your entire body. Your insides clenched around him, helpless to do anything else as he filled you completely, his cock a hard, throbbing presence deep within your core.  

“Look at you,” he growled, his voice thick with pride and lust. “You took it all, didn’t you? Such a good girl.” 

You couldn’t respond, couldn’t do anything but tremble in his lap. Your body shook with the effort of accommodating him. The pain slowly dulled, replaced by an overwhelming fullness that sent pulses of pleasure through you. You could feel him deep inside you, so deep it felt like he was in your very soul.  

A sob escaped your lips, half pain, half pleasure, as he grinned up at you, his gold tooth winking at you. “That’s my girl,” he praised, his voice rich with satisfaction.  

Maybe…he could love you now.

You hoped that he loved you.  

Without warning, he lifted your hips, pulling his cock halfway out, and you whimpered at the sudden emptiness. Your pussy clenched, desperate to keep him inside, but he only chuckled, holding you steady.  

“Shh, don’t worry,” he soothed, his lips planting small kisses along your jawline as he spoke. “I’m not done with you yet. Daddy’s going to take care of you.” 

Before you could process his words, he slammed you back down onto his cock, his hips meeting yours with a bruising force. You screamed, hands clawing at his shoulders as he began to thrust in earnest, fucking up into you with a savage intensity. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, your vision going hazy as you lost yourself to the feeling of him inside you.  

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with your broken moans and his ragged grunts. He fucked you hard, mercilessly, his cock driving deep into your core with every thrust. The pressure inside you built, spiralling out of control as your body melted against him, surrendering your soul, your heart, your body, completely.  

“I want you, daddy,” you cried into the air. His cock throbbed inside you, twitching inside of you, the pressure making your walls flutter in response. “Please,” you begged, your voice trembling with desperation, a sweet, helpless plea that he loved hearing from you.  

Val’s grin was wide and wicked, that gleaming gold tooth catching the harsh light above. “That’s right, that’s a good girl,” he cooed, his tone low and degrading. The moment the words left his lips, his hips slammed forward with brutal position, pulling you down hard against him once more.  

The scream tore from you before you could stop it, your body overwhelmed by the sensation of being utterly filled. His cock drove so deep inside, you swore you could feel him pressing against your womb. You gasped, chest heaving, as he pounded in to you.  

The wet slap of skin against skin filled the room, mingling with your ragged moans. Every stroke felt like a cruel tease – he would pull away just enough to leave you empty before ramming back into you, your lips red and raw from the relentless friction. You could only hang on, body trembling, each thrust sending jolts of pleasure rippling through you.  

His cock didn’t just touch your cervix; it slammed into it, forcing it open as he claimed every inch of you. You couldn’t think, couldn’t speak – only animalistic sounds escaped your lips as he took you over and over again.  

Your limbs went slack, completely giving into his control. Val’s hands gripped you tightly, guiding your body as he pleased. You were a puppet to his desire, limp yet burning alive under his touch. Your head fell forward, and you panted for breath. “Oh fuck, daddy, daddy,” you screamed, nails digging into his shoulders. “I’m so close – so, so, close,” you babbled, the peak just within reach, the sensation building into something unbearable.  

Val’s voice, low and commanding, made your world unravel. “That’s right, come for daddy,” he growled, his hips snapping against you. The harsh slam of his body against yours was all it took to push you over the edge. You tensed, gasping, as the orgasm tore through you, leaving you trembling and slick between your thighs, your mind a haze of white-hot pleasure.  

Your body slumped forward, but Val wasn’t finished. In a swift movement, he pushed you down to the cold floor and flipped you over onto your hands and knees. Your limbs shook, barely able to hold your weight as he grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking you back toward him. You barely had time to gasp before you felt the molten heat of his cock press against your entrance again.  

His cock surged back into you with unrelenting force, and your eyes widened at the new sensation. From this angle, he felt impossibly big, stretching you even more, his girth filled you completely. “Oh, Val!” You yelped as he slammed your head back against the floor, your cheek pressed against it. Drool escaped your lips and pooled beneath you. Your body quivered as he drove in to you without pause, his cock a burning brand inside your slick, swollen walls.  

Your breath came in ragged bursts, the pleasure too much for your already overstimulated body. Your inner thighs were soaked, your juices smeared against your skin as his cock slid in and out with wet, obscene sounds. You couldn’t think, couldn’t speak - just a string of helpless moans escaping your lips as his heavy balls slapped against your hardened clit with each punishing thrust.  

“Oh, fuck, fuck,” you mumbled, barely coherent as your pussy clenched around him again, the rippling spasms of another orgasm threatening to break you apart. But Val didn’t let up, didn’t stop – his grip on your hair only tightened, his hips pounding harder, relentless.  

“Give me another, cariño,” he panted, his words punctuated by the sharp slapping of skin, his balls crashing against your sore, soaked folds. The sharp sting of his balls hitting your sensitive clit made you mewl, your body jerking uncontrollably. You were drowning in pleasure, your body an aching, quivering mess beneath him, unsure how many more times you could come for him.  

“Tell me how good it feels, baby,” Val’s voice was a low growl, his demands sharp and insistent. “Go on, tell me.” 

“It feels good, so good, so good,” you chanted, barely aware of what you were saying. The words spilled from your lips automatically, your mind too fogged by the constant waves of pleasure crashing through you. You could barely see, eyes half-lidded, body vibrating with pleasure as he fucked you deeper into the floor.  

Val’s fingers that were clutching your hair twisted, lifting your head and torso as he changed his angle again. The shift made his cock curve inside you, and a fresh wave of sensation hit you like a bolt of lightening. Your breasts hung heavy, nipples sensitive as his clawed fingers pinched them harder. The pain blurred with pleasure, a delicious sting that you moan in earnest.  

Your thighs trembled, slick with your own juices, as the wet slap of his clock echoed in the room. The slick, wet sounds as he drove in to you, the puddle of your arousal spreading beneath you – you could hear and picture it so vividly in your mind’s eyes.  

As your eyes fluttered open, they caught the blinking red light of the camera across the room. An insidious voice whispered in your mind that the camera was recording every moment of your body’s surrender. The lens must have captured it all – the way your belly bulged slightly, moulding around Val’s cock, the way your cunt greedily pulled him in, stretching to take every inch of him.  

Your head felt weightless, like you were floating in a thick haze. Every inch of your body moved with the rhythm of Val’s relentless thrusts, his cock the sole force driving your muscles. Each push sent a shockwave through you, a reminder of the overwhelming fullness he gave. You never knew it could feel like this – raw, needy, with every nerve igniting under his touch. There was no distance between you now, no barriers.  

“Baby, baby…” Val’s voice rasped near your ear, soft yet demanding. His breath scorched the sensitive tip of your ear. Your hair clung to your damp face as you panted for air. “You love me, don’t you, baby?” His lips ghosted over your neck before brushing against your ear, his cock pressing deep inside, filling every crevice within you. A sharp gasp escaped your lips, the pressure almost too much to bear, but you didn’t want him to stop.  

You craved more.  

“Tell me you love me,” his tongue slid along the curve of your ear, the wet warmth of it sending a shiver down your spine. When he kissed the shell of your ear, it felt like electricity, sharp and consuming. He whispered again, his voice like velvet laced with poison. “Tell me you’ll give me your heart, your soul, cariño.” His words were intoxicating, seeping into you like a drug, making your pulse race.  

“Hah…hah…” You couldn’t catch your breath as he made small, precise thrusts, nudging the edge of your cervix, the pressure so sweet it hurt. “I – I love you, Val, I love you,” you gasped, the need in your voice undeniable. Your body ached for him, craving that raw, reckless connection.  

“Love me enough to sell me your soul,” he murmured against your skin. His hips drew back, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in, his cock hitting that devastatingly perfect spot that made your vision black out with pleasure.  

“Yes, yes,” you whimpered, your voice barely more than a breath as you writhed against him, desperate for more. “I’ll give you my soul, I’ll do anything – anything for you, Val.” 

The words spilled from your lips, raw and uncontrolled, as his cock slowly withdrew again, every inch of it dragging along your inner walls, leaving you trembling with the loss of heat and fullness. You whimpered, your hips arching involuntarily, seeking him, needing him to fill that space again.  

Cold metal kissed your neck, the unexpected sensation making your skin prickle, but before you could make sense of it, Val’s large hand slammed down on your shoulder, pressing you hard against the floor.  

“Oh, baby…” His voice dripped with satisfaction, the weight of it thick in your ears. “I knew you’d say yes. You’re one of my favourites.” His hand enveloped the side of your face, your cheek pressing hard into the cool surface beneath you. You felt his other hands lift your hips, and then his cock drove into you again, quick, brutal, carving out a space inside you, like he was determined to make you his in every possible way.  

The slap of his hips against your ass was sharp, the wet sound of your slickness loud in the air, and the stretch of him was so intense, so consuming, it stole every thought from your mind. Every thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, so overwhelming that it bordered on pain. Your muscles twitched, your body teetering on the edge of breaking from the relentless pounding, but you wanted more. You needed more.  

Your gasps turned to cries as he bottomed out inside you, his cock filling you completely. The pressure was unbearable, yet addictive, your body aching for every inch of him. Nothing existed but the feeling of him, the way his cock stretched and claimed you over and over again. 

Warmth flooded your insides as he released his seed, filling you with deep, hot pulses. The sensation made your belly clench, every muscle in your body locking up as pleasure mixed with the heat of his approval, his ownership.  

As his cock softened inside you, the grip he had on you loosened. Your body, finally released from the tension, collapsed against the floor. His seed leaked from you in thick waves, trickling down your thighs, sticky and warm, mixing with the remnants of your own release. Every nerve in your body was spent, and the simple act of breathing felt like it required all the energy you had left.  

“Baby,” Val’s voice cut through the silence like a blade, casual and cold. He nudged your limp body with the tip of his shoe, roiling you onto your back. You stared up at him, dazed, your body sore, mind struggling to keep up. His cock hung loosely, still glistening with the remnants of both of you, but there was no intimacy in his gaze, no softness.  

Only…detachment.  

“That was a splendid show.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. As he spoke, a faint pink mist swirled in the air, wrapping itself around your neck like a collar. A chain, thin and ethereal, extended from it, connecting to his wrist. The weight of it pressed down on you, suffocating, though it barely touched your skin.  

You furrowed your brows, confusion flooding your senses while your body remained sluggish and unresponsive. “V-Val?” You stammered, the word barely a whisper, your throat raw from use and from the screams still lodged inside you.  

His expression shifted, the warmth you had once known dissipated entirely. His eyes curved into crescents, a cruel mockery of joy, and his lips twisted into something sharp and sinister. “I expect you to be at work every day, baby,” he said, his voice dripping with casual cruelty. A chuckle followed, light but empty. “Truly, a pleasure doing business with you.” 

You stared, uncomprehending, as he tucked himself back into his pants with a casual ease, as though nothing had happened, as though you were nothing – not even an afterthought. He patted his clothes, as if brushing away some invisible dust, erasing any trace of the intimacy you thought you had shared.  

“V-Val?” You tried again, your voice cracking, your body trembling as the reality of his words began to sink in. The warmth from his touch, from the act you once thought was love, had already cooled, leaving only a hollow ache. You could feel the crust of his seed drying against your skin, flaking away like something discarded, forgotten.  

His response was swift and brutal. “You work for me now, baby,” he crooned, bending down to meet your gaze as though you were a child who couldn’t quite understand. His hand came down on your head, not with affection, but with condescension, a pat that made your skin crawl. “Now, clean yourself up. The next actors need to use this set.” 

The words crashed into you, sharp and final, and before you could gather the strength to respond, he turned away, his footsteps echoing as he moved toward the door. The sound of the latch clicking shut rang in your ears, the finality of it stealing the breath from your lungs.  

For a moment, you were paralyzed, your mind swirling into a storm of chaos, trying desperately to make sense of the sudden emptiness where warmth had been. 

Slowly… 

Painfully… 

You tried to sit up.  

You tried – oh, you tried, but your body screamed in agony, your stomach and insides raw from the violent way he had… 

You bit your lips. Hard.  

Hard enough to pierce the skin, and a metallic tang blossomed on your tongue.  

He had used you.  

“V-Val…” you whimpered, the name slipping from your bloody, broken lips in a stilted, pleading cry. There was no pride left, only desperation. “Val…Val…” Your voice cracked as tears welled up in your eyes, hot and uncontrollable, spilling down your cheeks in silent rivers. You crawled toward the door, your legs too weak to stand, every movement a reminder of his cruelty, the soreness a mark of how easily he had discarded you.  

“Val…” You sobbed, your throat tight, your breaths coming in shallow gasps. Each attempt to call his name was met with silence, the room pressing in on you, the walls looming over you, the door an impenetrable barrier. The hollow thud of your palm against the cold, unforgiving floor was the only sound left as you clawed your way forward, begging for something you knew you’d never get.  

The truth slithered into your mind, cold and unbearable.  

He was gone.  

He had never cared. 

You weren’t special.  

You had never been.  

A bitter sob tore through you, and as the tears flowed freely, the thought struck you like a knife to the chest.  

He never once told you he loved you… 

...had he?

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[nightisawkward]

"Another challenger… it has been ages. Perhaps you have forgotten how this game is played. Allow me to remind you."

Happy halloween fellas!!! Hermitcraft/Life SMP inscryption AU ft. Boatem gang I cooked up awhile ago but never got around to posting B-) Wild life smp has reminded me how mentally ill I am about putting these Guys in Situations so here I am

Mild to major inscryption spoilers under the cut!

For those familiar with the game, the general roles are:

Luke Carter - "Challenger"/Grian

In this AU Grian is still a trading card-based youtuber who's recording all this nonsense going down real time as in canon, but has closer ties to the GameFuna company equivalent, named "WatcherCorp". His old college roommate/best mate Jimmy went to work for them, but mysteriously passed away in a fire at their headquarters. He found the Inscryption cards in Jimmy's leftover personal belongings a few years after his death, and decided that the best way to honor him would be to make a video featuring the project he put his heart and soul into... in more ways than one.

Key difference from canon Inscryption: Grian's mind is sucked into the game of Inscryption whenever he is playing. He is able to enter and leave the game at will, but he doesn't realize this until he first dies to Leshy/Pearl and ejects himself unconsciously out of fear of dying. The only reason he realizes he isn't hallucinating is because his camcorder footage proves he actually enters the game. He obtains the "Watcher's Eye" during Act 1, which he keeps for all future acts and allows him to see things he shouldn't see as a Challenger.

P03 - "Scarred Stoat"/Scar

Despite being the one who convinces Grian and the other Scrybes to stand up against Pearl, no one seems eager to spend any more time with the conniving conman than absolutely necessary. This may have something to do with Scar's history of backstabbing and cheating both Scybes and Challengers whenever it benefits him most. Which makes it rather unfortunate that Grian is must spend time with Scar in order to gather as much information as possible.

In the beginning, Scar and Grian do not get along in the slightest. Grian finds Scar's attitude too "fake", while Scar finds Grian's "cowardice" to be irritating. At some point, the two go from passive-aggressive fighting, to a grudging truce, to more friendly, lighthearted banter. Neither person seems to trust the other, but it doesn't seem to stop the two from being ✨saddled with unnecessary feelings✨. Scar's Act 3 world is much like Leshy's Act 1 world, with much more emphasis put on environmental storytelling and general Vibes than actual gameplay. Even if his game is a smokescreen for his true goal of Ascension, he feels strangely obligated to give Grian his best shot.

Scar in his proper Scrybe form appears more steampunk than canon P03. Think of a Grumbot with Scar's boatem base aesthetic and tons of missing nuts and bolts. P03's bastardous tendencies+ Scar's steampunk base made this role perfect for him.

Magnificus - "Horned Wolf"/Impulse

Impulse is a talented artist and an even more talented programmer. His future sight stems from his literal sight: His eyes are able to see read the code veil behind Inscryption, allowing him to predict likely futures based on what code is running. He often laments his status as an NPC, claiming that if he were given administrative privileges and the actual ability to modify source code he would have been able to escape Inscryption long ago.

He is rather absent in Act 2, focusing on finishing his "artwork" as soon as possible. He uses his brush to create a menagerie magical creatures with strange abilities in hopes that using one in battle might trigger a unfixable bug, allowing him to rip a hole through the source code. It is unclear whether he was able to accomplish his goal before Act 3 roles around, but it seems like Scar's method of Ascension seems awfully similar to Impulse's... perhaps a sneaky spy was able to steal Impulse's information?

As a proper Scrybe, he resembles a walking mop or a yak with overgrown fur. Most of his features are indistinguishable, save for his small horns and his glowing goat eyes.

Lemora - "Distinguished Stinkbug"/Mumbo

Mumbo is by far the most easygoing Scrybe in the cast. While he would greatly prefer an eternal slumber over yet another temporary ceasefire amongst the Scrybes, he is willing to work with the others in Act 1 simply because he finds his stinkbug form too uncomfortable to sleep in. Mumbo's goal is simple: to delete the game of Inscryption, and therefore himself, and finally rest. However, finds the constant power struggles in the world of Inscryption rather tiring and simply can't be bothered to make a grab for power himself to achieve this goal. This hasn't stopped him from asking Grian to destroy floppy disk of Inscryption. Unfortunately for him, the temptation of the o̷l̵d̷ ̶d̸a̶t̷ [REDACTED] mysteries within Inscryption are simply too powerful for Grian to resist.

As a proper Scrybe, he looks almost exactly like Mumbo's minecraft skin: A pale, mustached man with blood red eyes who resembles a vampire. Mumbo denies all vampire allegations. While he is the most "normal" looking Scrybe, Grian would still hesitate to call him "human" ...there's just something slightly off about his appearance that sets him on edge.

Leshy - "Game Master"/Pearl

Pearl is an unforgiving gamemaster that puts more emphasis on providing the player a challenge than her canon counterpart. After her self-proclaimed "tutorial", there is no more handholding and she gives Grian an absolute hellish time. Grian is only able to get a slight edge when he discovers all of the Scrybes, who provide him with stategy help to even the playing field. It is unclear whether Pearl actually enjoys running her Act 1 game or not: she seems to derive an animalistic pleasure from defeating Grian, but there are times where she seems tired and fed up with the endless gameplay loop and intentionally throws during key fights. She switches between manic and depressed at the drop of a hat.

During Act 2, she barely even tries to give Grian a challenge, allowing him to progress straight to her boss fight without any side quests to "get it over with quicker". She seems to hold a deep grudge against Scar for some reason, which is the only thing that motivates her to take action to stop him during Act 3.

Mysteriously, Grian finds a burned and unusable Unicorn card within her Act 1 cabin. Upon discovery, Scar immediately suggests that Grian leave it where he found it. Some things are best left forgotten, after all...

[brawltogethernow]

I would LOVE to hear your aro Hal thoughts if you don’t mind sharing?

[re:] (Sorry in advance there are absolutely no issue citations; I have saved so many pages in random places without labeling them.)

I don't know if I'd even call it having thoughts so much as having...an incomplete collection of Hal...saying things?

And having things said about him?

And he does this very familiar weasel jink when asked certain types of questions.

Like the general direction of authorial intent here is presumably that he's a ~playboy~ who ~can't be tied down~,

but we rarely see him...like...with anybody. He's an informed attribute playboy who's had a handful of onscreen flings that tend to be complete disasters with significantly less chemistry than a poorly measured baking soda volcano, and other than that there's Carol, who he's been failing to marry with high agitation for sixty-five years at this point. Like in cape comics it's standard for your obvious endgame A couple to take twenty or thirty years to get around to that, but sixty is excessive. Like even Alicia Masters and the Thing managed it faster and they kept getting put off because it stressed out too many Marvel writers to contemplate monsterfucking. (And other less comedic factors but this post isn't about that.)

And every time Hal tries to go steady with Carol he acts like he's dying, even though he clearly loves her and holds having her in his life in extremely high priority.

Like he is not enjoying a playboy lifestyle he doesn't want to give up. He has tried very hard to settle down several times, but he always panics and bolts at the last second like someone who's run out of the willpower¹ to keep holding onto an electrified rod--except when he's rescued by deus ex machina.

¹Ha.

And it's also pretty evident that he hates himself for this and doesn't understand why he can't pass this standard life milestone, or why he keeps hurting Carol, his favorite person, trying and failing to do what they think you're supposed to. He very blatantly views his romantic failures as something that let down other people and "improving" as a sacrifice he's supposed to make for them.

When his desires come into it it's primarily in the context of him gaslighting himself about how he totally wants the things he's supposed to that won't disappoint people, definitely definitely for real this time.

As seen above, romantic success for Hal is often conflated with retiring from being Green Lantern to inject cheap drama and insert a built-in inevitable failure, framing him as staying single because he's "married to the job". This barely ever made sense but was already downright comedic by the, I want to say late 70's?, where Carol was in on the secret identity and John and Katma were pulling off extremely successful GL/GL dating in the same book. At this point it's complete nonsense, so writers have been pulling harder on framing Hal as a disorganized man-child with commitment issues who's just sort of arbitrarily rendered undateable by being a committed superhero, something which, although it's a classic source of drama, has not hindered any of DC's other characters to this degree this consistently.

In conclusion: This aro man does not know what aromanticism is despite being one degree of separation from Connor Hawke, which is ruining his life and his ability to have any self esteem. Him and Carol desperately need someone to tell them what queerplatonic relationships are so they can stop doing these wretched I'm-not-touching-you kisses.

#EverybodyDislikedThat

Also he's been dressing up as the aromantic flag since 1959. Okay now I'm done.