#this was a fucking pain in the ass to copy & paste here
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iknowwhereyousleepatnight · 6 months ago
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people begging me to do something to make a certain someone happy aren’t taking into account that i hate this person and i will revel in the knowledge that i kept them from getting the most perfect version of what they wanted. in fact i hope they mourn the loss of this for the rest of their life and die unhappy about it
#i wish i could do worse. i wish i could go through and ruin everything i ended up giving them (all against my wishes) and i wish#i could ruin everything they love because god do i hate them and i will laugh when they finally fucking die#i have no idea why everyone glosses over all the shit this person has done to us and all the pain they’ve caused and i can’t fathom why#everyone wants to make them happy and why they’re willing to beg and bribe for me (and one other person who also hates them) to#give in but it is amusing and i hope they all fucking cry about it like oh nooo did poor [REDACTED] not get something they will never#get another chance to have ? oh well that sucks so bad for them i’m oh so sorry i caused that i can’t believe i managed to ruin their#chances for this how awful that this person i hate who has done and gotten away with so many horrible things didn’t get their perfect#little fantasy how sad we should all comfort them and call me a bitch who has no respect for anyone#god sometimes i wish i gave into violence more in the past bc i wish i got to fucking beat their ass up back when it would be self-defense#unforch i will never get to now. SAD!#i suppose i have murder fantasies and the thought of being able to ruin their funeral to soothe my soul#and the knowledge that i could make them fucking hurt by refusing to cooperate w them#and ough every time an opportunity presents itself for me to fucking take back what they took from me arises i have to fight myself#on it bc everyone will know it was me. i don’t even want what they have i just want them to know they will never get it back and#god it would upset them so much but they never should have had it in the first place ough if i get the chance before i ditch everyone here#for good i’d want to take it and stick around just long enough to hear how much they’ll cry about it before i fuck off#unforch i would need to know where all of their copies of things are but fuck i hate knowing they’ve taken so much from me bc i didn’t#get a fucking choice and they think they have to right to keep it all bc oh it makes them so happy they love having it they’re so fucking#afraid of losing it but it’d be so easy and i doubt they’d even notice for a while and i genuinely could disguise it as a mistake something#got misplaced some files corrupted etc etc but whatever this is fantasy a sweet little daydream of mine my second fantasy involving#them has smth to do with setting their house on fire and my third fantasy is desecrating their grave when the time comes#okay i’m done w this lalalalalala *skips off into the distance* i think revenge is not productive but god is it delicious to think about
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dragon-swords-prophecies · 1 year ago
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writing! scene from enna's prequel
As promised (sort of), writing!
This is from Enna's unnamed prequel (it used to be named angel's daughters but that has been scrapped because it really really does not fit), its almost the entire scene except for the end of it because that part doesn't really make sense yet. It's about 1.7 thousand words, which is long but I like this scene so fucking much so you get all of it! (it is under the cut because. Long).
tw/cw for death mention, murder mention, swearing
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It took her an embarrassingly long time to find the shop the person, Bezeo, had mentioned. She poked her head down what felt like half the streets in the city until she found it. Tucked between an empty storefront and a florist, with a bright, though cracked and peeling, green paint job and a single large display window filled with potions that sparkled in the sunlight, was a shop. Its sign, creaking in the wind, had a similarly green background with a large cauldron in the middle of it, a crack splitting it down the middle. In slightly peeling gold letters, it proclaimed to all who cared look that this was the Broken Cauldron, founded 682.
If that outside suggested that whoever owned the place took no great care for the building or its wares, then the inside suggested the complete opposite. On racks there were displayed dozens of potions in varying shapes, colors, and sizes. A bell hung above the door rang as Enna opened it, and golden sun poured through the well cleaned window.
As she entered, a voice called from the back, “I’ll be right with you!”
“Take your time!” shouted back Enna, and she began to look at the walls. An intricate, Gnomish made cuckoo clock hung on the wall above the counter. It was beautiful, and shone like it had been recently polished. The top of it, though, the roof of the little house, was more dusty, like it couldn’t be reached. As Enna looked around, she noticed all the shelves were like that. The very tops of them were significantly more dusty than the bottoms or middles.
“What can I—” the voice died off in the middle of the sentence as a short gnomish woman emerged from the backroom, dusting her hands on her apron and skirt.
She scanned Enna over once, twice, three times, lingering on her face, and on the scar there. “Annie thought you were dead,” she said, quietly.
“She said as much. Who’re you?”
“Effie, owner, operator, and sole employee. Do you know where she is?”
“I thought she was still in the city until ten seconds ago. There’s plenty of places to hide in this town.”
Effie muttered something under her breath that Enna couldn’t make out, then abruptly changed the subject. “Does Bezeo know you aren’t Anne? I assume he’s the one who sent you here.”
“He did. I don’t think so, I’m not even sure he knows that ‘Enna’ exists.”
As Effie walked over and flipped the sign on the door to closed—though she left it unlocked—she said, “He does. Bezeo and Anne were—are—good friends.”
“They’re not married, are they? I would’ve hated to miss the wedding.”
Effie laughed. “No, they’re not married. You,” Effie took a deep breathe, and for a moment Enna thought she was going to cry. “You didn’t miss any weddings. Well, you didn’t miss any you might care about. Bezeo’s married to some lady in the guard, which is endlessly funny to me, given that his two closest friends are a thief and her— are thieves.”
Enna nodded. “That’s good, I guess.”
“Yeah. Do you know anything at all of what’s been going on?”
“Going on where?”
“Here.” Effie led Enna through a door behind the counter and into a backroom, where a narrow set of stairs against the wall led up to the second floor—presumably residential—and crammed in the corner was a small table, with the rest of the space taken up by books, counters for brewing potions, and extra stock. She gestured Enna to the chair, and pulled over a stool for herself after dumping the papers on it onto the counter. “Sorry for the mess, I haven’t had time to clean up recently.”
“It’s alright, I don’t mind. As for your question. I know a little bit.”
“What?”
“Something scared Anne enough to make her leave and contact me sometime in the last year, after remaining in the city 13 years before that, through at least one murder charge & making no noticeable attempt to find me.”
“So you don’t know anything, not really. You don’t know why your sister ran.”
Effie’s words stung. They were right, but that didn’t mean they didn’t hurt. “So that’s what she did,” murmured Enna. “Had to be bad, then, she’s always been braver than me.”
“Bad is an understatement.” Effie ran a hair through her curly hair and tapped her fingers nervously on her leg. “If she didn’t tell you…”
“Everyone thinks I’m her. If it was bad enough to make her leave, there is a very good chance that I will get murdered within the week.” Effie looked directly at Enna’s arm, where there was a tattoo that marked her membership in the thieves guild that had defined her late teens and early twenties. Effie couldn’t see it through Enna’s sleeve, but she knew it was there.
Finally, after twenty seconds silence heavy with unspoken warnings and memories, Effie spoke. Her eyes were looking anywhere but on Enna’s face. “Beginning about sixteen, seventeen years ago, though it had been building for ages, there was a split, a schism. The old leader was of one mind, and his people controlled most of the power. Then, around the time you left, that guy died. His deputy, Lucas, took over, but he was ousted within the year. Lucas’ deputy was killed too, or bribed, or something, but they vanished.
“Maybe he never appointed one, I don’t know. I joined around that time, mostly as a safe house and a secret partner/ally for one side of the schism.”
“The side Anne was on.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes. The next leader, the current one, has been running the show for twelve, thirteen years. When he killed Lucas, or at least I’m pretty sure he killed Lucas, maybe the dude before him too, Anne thinks he got Temerity to kill Lucas and that someone else killed the one before him. I don’t remember his name, but Anne joined the camp he was in.”
Enna interrupted. “Zephyr. The man before Lucas was named Zephyr.”
“Right, yeah, thanks. So I think that it’s the current guy—Barnabus—who killed Lucas and Zephyr, but Annie thinks that Barnabus got Temerity to kill Lucas, and that some unknown third or fourth party killed Zephyr. Anne joined the side Zephyr had been on, maybe she’d been part of it already or maybe she didn’t know about the split before Zephyr was killed—because, apparently, that threw things into the open and people thought that someone had killed Zephyr to get power to someone on the other side of things.
“Anyways, over the course of six to seven years Anne got decently high up in the side that was against Barnabus. Her position got revealed two years ago. The fifth time someone tried to kill her I made her leave town.” There was something in Effie’s voice, some secret she was trying very hard not to reveal.
Enna sighed. “Hot fucking shit. Barnabus—gods, I remember him. Bloody idiot. How the hell did he ever become the leader?”
“I don’t know. Some people think that he’s a figurehead for Geer—he’s the leader of the assassins, unofficially Anne’s opposite, second in command of the side that’s wants to make Oleski an assassins guild, as well as a thieves guild.”
“So thats what the fuckers want to do. I can see why Anne and Zephyr’d be against that, I would be too.”
“Yeah, its rotten. Y’all steal things, not kill people. When Anne left I told her to find you and to send me a letter or some other message when she got there. It’s been a year. I never got a letter. You say you haven’t seen her. Something has gone very, very wrong.”
“She’s not dead. I would know if she was dead. She can’t be dead.” Enna’s words were more a hope or prayer than anything.
“Are you absolutely, completely, certain?” Asked Effie, and there was iron in her voice.
“I…” Enna dug down inside herself. She looked for that thread of contact, the string that connected the two sisters by more than appearance and age. And she tugged on it, and after a moment something tugged back.
Enna opened her eyes. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She said, voice filled with relief unimaginable, “Yes. Anne lives.”
Effie smiled, bright and true and clear, for the first time in months. “Then we can find her.” And I can keep my promise. But Enna didn’t know about the promise, and Effie refused to reveal secrets that were not hers, not completely, to keep.
The bells of the clock tower chimed noon, the deep Booms ringing out across the city and over the water beyond. “Effie? Are you in here?” shouted a voice from the front. Bezeo. He had perfect timing. “Back room, come on in!” hollered Effie, and shortly Bezeo entered, apron dusted with flour that streaked his beard and made him look decades older. He looked first at Effie, and then at Enna, before taking one of two remaining seats—a chair, the one that wasn’t next to Enna, who had wedged herself into a corner where she could see the door.
“Enna, meet Bezeo, a good friend of mine and of Anne. Bezeo, meet Enna Helder-Kromlin—do you use that last name?—” Enna nodded—, Anne’s sister.”
Bezeo blinked. “Pardon?”
“Anne’s sister. Enna.”
“Is this some sort of weird joke or… They’re identical!”
“Twin sister. Hi,” said Enna, at the same time as Effie said,
“They’re not identical, Enna’s got a scar next to her eye and Anne has freckles.”
“’Course you’d be the one to notice that,” grumbled Bezeo good natured-ly. “You probably clocked her the minute she came in, didn’t you?”
Effie smiled, not as bright as she had a minute earlier when she had found out Anne was definitely alive. “Yes. Though already knowing Enna existed did help.”
“Fuck off, I knew she exists too! Not my fault I assumed she was dead.”
“I’m pretty sure that is your fault, actually?” said Enna.
“Rude!” exclaimed Bezeo, with no real malice behind it.
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sturn-saturn · 5 months ago
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The Vegas Affair
pairing: matt x fem!reader
warnings: drinking, dry humping, that’s it i think???
a/n: in honor of the triplets turning 21 me and @flouvela collabed on this little fic. be nice pls and happy reading!!
WORD COUNT: 1,803
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people always say, "what happens in vegas, stays in vegas."
and boy, were they right.
the whole crew was here. me, sam, colby, tara, jake, johnnie, larray, nick, matt, and chris. we're all here in vegas to celebrate the triplets' 21st birthday. they originally weren't going to do anything, but you only turn 21 once, right?
we all got settled into our hotel, and i'm rooming with matt on this trip; while getting ready for the night, he got a call from the front desk saying the party bus was here to pick us up.
matt and i go out into the hall, knock on our friends' doors, and run to the elevator, telling them the bus is here. i'm super excited because i've never been to parties like this.
we finally pile onto the party bus as the music fills our ears. matt pulls out his digital camera, a relic in the age of smartphones. he's determined to capture every wild moment that happens tonight.
though their career is based on social media, and they put out videos every week, matt wanted to vlog something for him and his brothers to remember: a night with the people he loves.
larray pops the champagne, which catches us all by surprise. "alright bitches! it's time we take over vegas!" we all cheer and hold our glasses out for him to fill.
jake, being jake, gets up and messes with the stripper pole, with johnnie smacking his ass to hype him up while we let out a laugh.
tara and i were in charge of documenting the night for the three boys, taking turns to capture the moments they may want to look back on.
the bus suddenly stopped, signaling our arrival at the nightclub.
this nightclub felt like walking into another world. the strobes of light switching from side to side, the music blasting in our ears, the colorful, sparkly outfits the party girls are wearing, and so much more.
the crew and i stood still to take it all in, and we looked at each other. "i don't know about y'all, but i'm gonna get fucked up!" larray yells, pushing past us as he gets a hold of nick's hand.
after four rounds of shots, we are all completely drunk. i take a hold of matt's camera and turn it around to capture this moment.
"how you feeling party boy?!" i yell over the music.
"i f-feel fine." he yells back, stuttering. "holy fuck. y/n... AM I DRUNK?!"
"you absolutely are," i laugh at him.
he reaches into the pocket of his pants and pulls out his shades that he had on earlier in the day. he puts them on and smiles at the camera, crossing his arms.
"WOAHH LOOK AT MR. COOL GUY OVER HERE!" chris yells as i point the camera at him.
i'm not sure what it is; it may be the alcohol rushing through my body, or maybe the crush i've had on matt for years, but the tattoos that cover his arms, the all-black outfit he has on, and the shades resting on the bridge of his nose are making me feel the things i've been trying to ignore for so long.
"you look so hot," i mumble.
"what was that?" matt asks, as he stands up, hovering over my small frame.
"o-oh, i just said it's so hot in here," i let out an awkward giggle.
"wanna get some air?" he asks, tilting his head to the side.
"no, no, it's okay. i'll be fine," i say, smiling up at him.
matt and i catch up with the rest of our friends, and we have the time of our lives. at that moment, all i can think about is how grateful i am to have found such amazing people.
we returned to the hotel and hugged each other goodnight, heading to our rooms. i place matt's digital camera on the desk as matt and i flopped on our shared bed. i grabbed my head as i winced from the pain from hitting my head on the pillow.
"holy fuck, i feel like my head is about to explode," he slurs.
"i know exactly how you feel right now," i replied, eyes shut.
"hey, y/n," matt calls out. i looked at him, "hey, matt," i replied, copying the tone of his voice.
"you looked really pretty tonight," he says, looking at me.
my cheeks flush into a rosy pink as our eyes meet, my heart beating faster than ever.
"you just looked so carefree and so beautiful. i love seeing you have fun and just be you," he whispers, his hand reaching out to tuck my stray hairs away from my face.
"matty, are you confessing to me right now?" i joke, to cover up how nervous i am at that moment.
"maybe i am," his eyes, holding an intense gaze.
"you're drunk, you fool," i say, averting my gaze away from him.
"so are you, y/n." matt looks deep into my eyes and smashes his lips against mine. my mind took a second to realize what was happening before i kissed back.
he hovers over me as i hook my ankles around his waist, flipping him over. i straddle him, rocking my hips swiftly against his clothed cock, the friction of his jeans sending me to the edge.
he grabs my hips, rutting his cock against my pussy. i let out a choked moan, "feels so good." matt licks a stripe on my neck and i feel him smirk, "does it?" he repeats the same action, filling the room with sounds of heavy breathing and me chanting matt's name like it's a mantra.
unbeknownst to us, the digital camera is still filming and caught every sound we made.
"mine," matt whispers in my ear. the word echoing then the world turns black.
i wake up to the sun shining through the blinds of the hotel room. my head was pounding from all the alcohol i consumed last night. i turn over to see matt's side of the bed empty. i get up from my spot and walk to the bathroom.
"oh good, you're awake," matt says, as he spits the toothpaste in his mouth into the sink. "breakfast ends in an hour, so we should head downstairs soon."
i nod, feeling a little off. matt picked up on it and asked, "y/n, what's wrong? did you sleep alright?"
"i don't know but something feels... off? i don't know how to explain it," i replied, scratching my head as i sit on the bathroom counter, waiting for matt to finish his morning routine.
"maybe, you just need some food in you, sweetheart," he says, smiling softly.
"yeah, maybe," i reply, returning his smile.
after breakfast, matt and i decided to go to nick and chris' room with the digital camera to transfer the footage into nick's laptop. though they aren't uploading it we want to see the affairs from last night on a bigger screen.
"alright, this should transfer onto my laptop in like five minutes," nick claps his hands together.
once the footage is transferred, nick presses play, and we all sit on the couch of the hotel room with our eyes glued to the screen.
there she was, tara with a mic in her hands drunkenly singing the 90's song, "always be my baby" by mariah carey. we all laugh when nick picks up a mic and joins her.
the second clip is larray on the sidewalk, teaching sam and colby "his cool dance moves," as he liked to call them.
following clip was matt and i, attempting a makeshift dance routine and engaging in a heartfelt conversation about our friendship and the future.
"oh my god," matt groaned, burying his face in his hands as we all laughed.
"awh, matty, i'm glad you're my best friend too," i tease him, rubbing his back.
the next clip was matt with his shades on again and attempting to do some michael jackson moves with his leather jacket on.
"ok, guys, enough. this is so embarrassing," he says, laughing.
"wait, there's one more clip," chris says, pointing to the laptop.
we all shift our direction to the screen.
"wait, turn it up," nick says.
all our faces drop in unison as our ears are filled with moans and groans that obviously belong to matt and me.
"no, no, no, no," i say, getting up and running out of the hotel room.
i run to our room and locked myself in the bathroom, crying because of the embarrassment i felt.
i suddenly hear a knock on the door. "y/n... it's me, matt. can i come in?"
i unlock the door to let him in and he closes it behind him.
"y/n. what do you feel right now? hm?" he asks, crouching in front of me on the floor.
"i don't know. I feel embarrassed that your brothers saw that, and I didn't know the camera was still on. i'm so sorry, matt," i rambled as i sob into my hands.
"hey, look at me," he says, lifting my chin with his finger and wiping my tears away.
"you have nothing to be sorry for sweetheart. your feelings are valid. is there anything i can do to make you feel better?"
"i don't know. it's just.. i-i've liked you for so long, and maybe last night was a mistake, maybe it wasn't. if you want to forget about it, i can do that. i can act like it never happened."
"hey, hey, hey y/n. i enjoyed last night. i just want to make sure you're alright. the camera being on was just a mistake, i'm not upset about that, alright? and i've liked you for a while too, you know," he smiles at me, trying his best to comfort me.
we sit on the bathroom floor for a bit before we hear nick and chris on the other side of the door asking if they can come in as well.
matt unlocks the door to the bathroom and the other two walk in.
"are you okay, y/n?" nick asks.
"yeah, just a little embarrassed, i guess," i say looking down.
"well, you know what they say 'what happens in vegas, stays in vegas'" chris says, a smug smile on his face.
"oh, fuck off!" me, nick, and matt yell, looking at chris and we all burst out into laughter.
one thing i'll forever be grateful for is having these three boys in my life. we made a silent vow to cherish the everlasting memories we made last night with our favorite people.
well, i guess vegas have brought us all closer in more ways than one, if you know what i mean.
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literaryavenger · 1 year ago
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Love Is A Battlefield
Summary: Bucky gets hurt during a mission and you can't help but blame yourself.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Warnings: Minimal use of Y/N. Language cause why not. Mentions of Bucky's past. Injuries. Overprotective reader. Description of violence. Fluff. My poor attempts at being funny.
Word Count: 4.5K
A/N: This was inspired by this post and a dream I had lol. I couldn't help but start writing and this is what came out. Enjoy.
Masterlist
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"Who the fuck do you think you’re calling a bitch, you ass?" you sneer at the guy to your left right before kicking him in the stomach and then bringing his head down on your knee when he doubles over, effectively knocking him out.
"Language!" you hear in you earpiece and roll your eyes.
"Why don’t you shut the fuck up, Rogers." you tell him while making your way through the corridor, taking Hydra agents down as you go.
"Can’t you do this without cursing so much?!" he sounds more exasperated at you than at the agents he’s supposed to keep distracted outside.
"Can’t you stop bitching in my ear? I’m a little busy here!" all he answers with is a groan and you know you won this round.
You hear Sam crackling before he says "1-0 to Y/N." which makes you laugh.
"Thanks, Sammy."
"Anytime, baby." you roll your eyes at his nickname, the small distraction allowing an agent to get too close to you and you feel a sharp pain in your forearm and almost drop your gun.
"Shit!" you hiss at the pain and zero in on the idiot that cut you.
You can hear the concerned voices in your ear, but don’t allow yourself to get distracted again as you take care of the last few agents on your side of the building.
"Y/N, are you okay? What’s happening? Can someone get to her?" you hear Bucky’s voice for the first time since the mission started and you can’t help the warm feeling it brings, the concern in his voice making you answer almost immediately.
"Just give me a minute!" you say as you battle the last guy standing.
Once you’ve successfully knocked him out, you take a second to breathe before addressing the voices still coming to your ear while you make your way through the maze of corridors in this Hydra base.
"I’m okay guys, but apparently all these people have some sort of collective knife kink." you say and you can hear Steve’s annoyed groan and the rest of the team’s laughter as you check out your cut. Not too deep, you think to yourself.
You think you hear a relieved sigh between the laughter, but almost instantly forget about it as you finally come to the door you’ve been looking for.
"Clint, status?" you ask him since he’s on the roof, being the eyes on the whole operation.
"Everyone’s thoroughly distracted out here." he answers.
"Good. James, Sam, are you done with the explosives?" you can hear Sam grunting as you enter the room, locating the computer you need and turning it on.
"Just a second!" Sam says, you hear a couple of punches landing and then "Done. This place is ready to blow as soon as you have the files."
"And hurry, we can’t hold them off forever." Steve adds.
"Inserting the USB now, I need at least 5 minutes for the download to finish. Friday, remember to copy Hill at Shield HQ and to save the files in the Avengers private server." you tell the AI as you make your way through the office, grabbing files that seem important as the digital ones download.
"Really? Why the private server?" Steve asks between punches.
"Because, Captain Dumbass, these files could contain sensitive information about one of our own. We have to be careful with them." you say while still looking through the cabinets of papers.
"Do you have to be so mean to me?" he almost whines.
"Hey, it’s your best friend that I’m looking out for." you say almost laughing.
"Yeah, I’m sure it’s me you’re doing this for." You can basically hear the smirk in Steve’s voice but before you can answer, Natasha cuts in.
"Are you two done bickering?" she says annoyed.
"Oh no, please, let them keep going, this is so entertaining." Tony comments, but you get distracted from the conversation when you find a black box in one of the desk drawers that was previously locked, you open it and can’t help the gasp that escapes you. Bucky’s dog tags.
"Guys… do we have to blow up this base?" you ask, quieter than you’d like, leaving everyone else confused. Between all of the “what”s you hear Steve say your name.
"You know the drill, we download the digital files, save as much of the paper ones as we can and then blow the building up. This one’s no different." he tells you, but you can’t help but disagree.
"I think it is…" you can hear them asking you to explain, so you do, trying to find the right way to say this "I think… I think this is the first base they took James to." you say, still talking quietly but loud enough for them to hear.
The comms go silent, everyone processing what you just say, only the sound of battling going on, but you’re only worried about one person.
"James?"
Nothing.
"James, are you okay?" you can’t help but worry, his silence snapping you out of the trance you were in, you close the box you were still staring at and put it safely in your pocket, your hand going to your ear instinctively.
"Bucky?!" He still doesn’t answer.
You hear a bip behind you and Friday lets you know the download is complete, you take the drive and make your way out, your worry only increasing with every step.
"Does anyone have eyes on Barnes?" you ask the rest of the team.
"Oh no." Clint says, and you stop immediately, your heart beating out of your chest.
"What?! You can’t just say ‘oh no’ and not elaborate, Barton!" your mind is going into overdrive, not knowing what to expect.
"I have eyes on him, but you’re not gonna like it."
"What do you mean, Clint?! just say it!" this time Steve is the one to snap at him.
"He’s getting surrounded, it looks like he’s passed out." you swear you can actually feel your heart stopping.
"Can anybody get to him?" you say desperately.
"He’s got maybe 2 minutes before he’s surrounded, everybody’s too far or too busy." yeah, Clint’s really not giving you any good news today.
"Can’t you help him out?!" you almost yell at him.
"Not without hurting him, there are just too many!" he sounds more worried with every word and you know it’s bad. "Technically you’re the closest." He informs you and you frown.
"What do you mean, technically?" You look out the window of the corridor you found yourself in, looking towards the roof and find Clint already looking down at you while he speaks without stopping his aid of the others with his arrows.
"The second window to your left. He’s right under it." you go to said window and try to open it, but it’s closed shut.
"These windows are bulletproof, Clint can you break it somehow?"
"I can, but you could get hu-"
"Just do it!" you yell, cutting him off.
You can see him aim an arrow to the window, it hits its target and you can hear Clint counting down from 3 before it shatters.
You take no time to be careful of the glass as you take a little disk from your belt and press the button while pointing it at the ground.
A rope shoots out of it and anchors to the floor and, while attaching the other end to the back of your suit, you make a mental note to thank Tony for always updating your tactical suits with new useful gadgets.
You leap out the window, landing with your feet on the wall, basically running down on it as you take out your guns and start shooting down at the now dumbfounded agents.
Before they can even figure out where the shooting is coming from, you're on the ground next to Bucky, cutting the rope with a knife, then stabbing the agent closest to you.
You’re punching, kicking and shooting, trying your best not to get too far away from Bucky, basically shielding him with your body.
You hear a faint ‘holy shit’ from Clint and the other’s voices come through but you can’t follow the conversation, your whole focus on keeping Bucky safe.
You stray a little too far away from him as you do the take down move Natasha taught you on one of the agents, your legs around his neck as you bring him down to the ground.
When you turn around you see one guy getting dangerously close to Bucky’s unconscious body and you feel a sudden burst of possessiveness throughout your own body.
"He’s mine." you basically growl, taking a knife from the body of the guy you just took down and throwing it.
It lodges perfectly in his throat and he goes down right away, blood pouring out of him. You have no time to be disgusted as you keep taking down agents and, one after the other, they all drop.
The second the last one touches the ground, you're kneeling down next to Bucky.
"Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead, please don't be dead..." you keep repeating, looking for the button on his tactical suit that monitors his health. Again, thanks Tony. You find it and press it "Friday, vitals."
"Heartbeat detected." the AI says and you immediately let out a breath of relief, not even knowing when you started holding your breath. "Head injury detected, possible concussion. Various cuts throughout his body. No other injuries detected."
It could be worse.
You give yourself a second to breathe while looking at Bucky, then talk into your comm, not taking your eyes off of him.
"Ok, guys, uhm... Bucky’s ass may be cute but it’s heavy. I’m gonna need a hand here." you hear some snickers and then Clint’s voice. "Cap and Sam are on their way."
You’re still looking at Bucky, almost worried that the second you take your eyes off of him his heartbeat is gonna stop, when you hear footsteps behind you and, almost automatically, you grab a knife next to your foot and throw it.
You hear it before you see it, the metal of the knife hitting Cap’s shield before he lowers it and, his face shocked and glad for his fast reflexes, he says "Relax, it’s just us."
"Sorry, I’m a little jumpy."
"Gee, wonder why." Sam says sarcastically as you turn back to Bucky.
"Just take James to the jet, Sam."
"Why do I have to carry his ass?" he whines like a child.
"Because you can fly, birdbrain, you’ll get there before we make it to the front gate." you’re almost irritated at this point, but when you turn to the duo and Sam gives you an unimpressed look, you sigh and try to calm down.
"Sorry, just… take him to safety. Please." Your voice is soft now, Bucky’s well-being the only thing on your mind. Sam picks up on your concern and gets serious, moving towards Bucky to pick him up.
"I’ll take him to the jet. See you guys there." and with that, he takes off.
You watch him go for a second before you feel a hand on your shoulder, turning around to see Steve’s equally concerned face.
"Relax, you heard Friday, he’s gonna be fine. Even if he does have a concussion the serum will heal him in an instant." you know he's right, thanks to the serum his bones heal overnight, a concussion is nothing.
But still, you can’t help the worry you feel.
"I’ll relax when he’s awake and I can see he’s fine." he’s about to say something back when you hear Tony’s voice in your ear.
"If you two are done making out about it, we really should be getting out of here." you roll your eyes and smile a little at the pink color Steve’s cheeks were turning while you start making your way to the front courtyard of the base where Natasha and Tony are still holding off the remaining Hydra agents that just seemed to keep coming.
The second he sees you both giving them a hand, Tony takes off towards the roof. "Incoming, Robin Hood, get ready for take off."
This is your cue to get to the jet, Steve, Natasha and you making your way to the front gate while still fighting, the remaining agents scrambling away the second the explosions inside the building start.
You all get to the jet and, after making sure everyone’s inside, Steve turns to Clint. "Take us home, Barton." he merely nods and makes his way to the pilot's seat, immediately taking off.
You make a beeline to where Bucky’s lying on a gurney, still unconscious.
"How is he?" you ask Bruce without taking your eyes away from the super soldier’s face.
"He’s okay, his cuts are already starting to heal themselves, so should be his head injury. He should wake up maybe within the hour, two tops." you nod and make your way to the chair beside his bed, taking his right hand in both of yours. 
You don’t know why you do that, now that you think about it you’ve probably not even touched Bucky in general more than a handful of times.
You’re not the closest of friends, you work well together in the field and get along outside of it, you hang out in group settings such as game and movie nights, team trainings and the team-building outings Tony forces everybody to go on, but that’s about it.
The lack of one on one interactions, though, didn’t help you escape your growing crush for the long-haired super soldier. You just can’t help the warm feeling you get every time he’s even in the same room, let alone when he looks at you.
You can hide it when you’re in mission mode, always being professional, but the second it happens in a normal setting like the living room or the kitchen or the gym you turn into a flustered schoolgirl, stumbling over your words and blushing every time you have his attention.
You’ve convinced yourself he doesn’t notice, if he has he hasn’t said anything, but for your own piece of mind you pretend he just doesn’t.
Sometimes it seems like he does it on purpose, though. He’d get close enough that you can smell his cologne and basically feel his body heat.
Sometimes his hands hover on your waist while he passes by you, never actually touching you but just close enough to make you almost pass out at the feeling.
And you can swear you can see a smirk on his face, but it always disappears so fast it’s just easier to convince yourself you’re imagining it.
He would have the most innocent face while asking you if something’s wrong, and all you can answer with is a small ‘I’m fine’ before basically running away, never once seeing the smug look on his face at the flustered state only he manages to put you in.
You’re brought out of your head by Steve’s hand on your shoulder, again, as he says "he’s gonna be fine."
"It’s my fault…" you say quietly, ignoring his attempt at comforting you.
"It’s not y-" you interrupt him before he can even finish.
"Yes, it is. I distracted him." You say firmly before your voice softens. "They were so close to getting him, Steve..."
You can’t take your eyes off of Bucky, almost willing him to wake up, so you could apologize. "Do you have any idea what would’ve happened if they got to him? What they could’ve done to him…" you trail off, not wanting to voice all the possibilities out loud.
Of course you know Steve knows. He worries more than you for Bucky, his best friend, basically his brother, the only family he has left from his past life.
But Steve is having none of it.
"You wanna play the blame game? He wasn’t even supposed to be on this mission, but I couldn’t stop him. He knew what it entailed, he knew it was a base full of hydra agents, but he didn’t back down because it was the right thing to do. He wants to do good and help us take down Hydra for good, he knows the risks but it was his choice. You can’t take that on you." Logically you know he's annoyingly right, again, but looking at Bucky laying motionless you can’t help the guilt that creeps up on you. 
"Friday," you say quietly, ignoring Steve’s confused look "play the footage of Bucky before he passed out coupled with the audio from our comms."
The hologram on the table in the middle of the jet lights up and Bucky’s figure can be seen fighting, then you can hear your own voice telling your theory to the group and Bucky halts for a second, he almost gets punched but avoids it at the last second, hitting the guy with his metal arm.
Steve turns to you with a smug look, knowing he was right, but you raise your hand before he can say anything and keep watching.
You see Bucky fighting and hear yourself calling his name and you can see his eyes rolling when you call him James. He’s asked you countless times to call him Bucky, but you always refuse, not sure why.
All you know it’s that it kind of annoys him but in a different way than when Sam or Peter annoy him, you can tell he’s not actually upset, it’s kind of your own little thing with him seeing as he doesn’t allow anyone else call him by his first name.
You can see Bucky still fighting and ignoring you, but when he hears you call him “Bucky” for the first time he stops, right as an agent is throwing a punch.
You see Bucky get hit in the jaw, stumble and fall, his head hitting the wall behind him pretty hard. He doesn’t get up, but you see the last agent standing get taken out by an arrow, Clint you assume.
You can hear your alarmed conversation with Clint as more agents slowly creep up on Bucky, probably being cautious, worried he could wake up any second, then there’s the sound of bullets flying and agents getting hit.
Suddenly you’re there.
You take your eyes off the screen, about to tell Steve that even he can’t deny now that it was your fault, but the whole team's attention was on the footage of you mercilessly taking out man after man, even Clint’s there watching after putting the jet on autopilot.
The look on your face frightening to the point where you almost don’t recognize yourself.
You don’t want to relive the moment, so you shift your attention back on Bucky, your hands still holding onto his.
You can hear Clint’s “holy shit” and then your “he’ mine” and you feel yourself heat up at the possessiveness in your voice.
The video gets paused and you can hear Tony asking "what the fuck was that?" his voice clearly amused, and you know what he’s asking you.
Before you can answer though, you feel Bucky’s hand squeeze yours softly, your eyes snaps down to it and then to his face while getting up from your chair.
He’s mumbling something that sounds very similar to your name but his eyes are still closed.
"James?" he slowly opens his eyes and they instantly find yours, a smile forming on his face that you can’t but mirror.
"How do you feel, Buck?" Steve asks him from beside you.
"Like I got hit really hard in the head." he groans while he tries to sit up, his hand still holding onto yours while you help him.
"Take it easy," Bruce tells him while stopping next to him on his other side "you probably don’t have a concussion, but I’d put some ice on your head to help with the headache."
"I’ll get it." you let go of Bucky, and walk to the mini freezer to get the ice pack.
Bucky takes a moment to look around him, his eyes landing on the screen where you’re frozen mid-fight.
"Friday, unpause the video." he says, curiosity taking over.
He watches you fight, protecting him with your life and he swears he’s never been more in awe in his life. He sees you get on your knees next to him and hears your whispers, praying for him to be okay, over and over.
He sees the relief in your face when Friday tells you he’s alive and he hears you call his ass “cute” as you ask the others for help, making him smile again.
"Friday, stop the footage." you say, ice in your hands but maintaining a safe distance from Bucky, embarrassed that he saw how worried you were for him.
You stand there in silence for a second while Bucky turns to look at you, the smirk on his face definitely real. You blush, cursing your body for how it reacts to his gaze, while Steve clears his throat.
"Why don’t we give you guys a minute..." he ushers everyone to the front of the jet, almost having to wrestle Tony to take him away from what he called 'his new favorite show'.
Bucky extends his right hand for you to take and you do as you get closer, your left hand going to carefully place the ice on the back of his head.
He hisses a little at the contact and you wince, giving him an apologetic smile, but his eyes never leave yours and his hand squeezes yours, letting you know he’s okay.
"I’m sorry." That's all you can say and, whatever you were expecting him to answer, it was definitely not what he says next.
"You should be." you bite your lip to stop it from trembling, your emotions getting the best of you and your guilt only growing, but he keeps going, "You distracted me. You’ve never said my name before, and it was the sweetest sound to ever come out of your mouth. Shame on you for keeping it from me for so long, doll."
He brings you closer to him, taking your hand in his left, his right going around your waist as he rests his chin on your stomach while looking up at you, your left hand still holding the ice to the back of his head.
You giggle at the puppy look he’s giving you, trying to resist the urge of leaning down and kissing him.
"Smooth, Barnes." he laughs with you, before growing more serious.
"You looked really worried." you feel your emotions bubbling up again.
"I was…" you say, your voice small "I’m sorry you got hurt because of me" you're basically whispering, afraid that if you raise your voice any louder the tears you’d been trying so hard to hold off will start falling.
"It’s not your fault, doll." before you can protest, he keeps going "and I’m fine. We’re all fine. I just took a little nap."
You roll your eyes at his attempt at a joke but can’t hide the smile starting to form on your face while he gives you a grin of his own.
You're so lost in his eyes that you almost forget about the reason all of this happened.
You let go of his hand and he gives you a confused look with a slight pout on his lips that just makes you smile more.
"Bucky," you start, taking the little box out of your pocket, but he interrupts you with an exaggerated gasp.
"Are you asking me to marry you, doll? Because, don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered, but maybe we should go on a date first." you can't help but laugh as you gave him a little shove, careful not to hurt him more.
"I’m not asking you to marry me, you jackass." you get more serious as you look at the box in your hand.
You don’t even realize you're biting your lip until Bucky reaches up and tugs it out. You look back at him and feel weirdly nervous, not knowing how he'll react.
"I found this at the base, and I’m pretty sure it belongs to you" you laugh a little out of nerves as he lets go of you to take the box and opens it.
He lets out a real gasp this time, fishing out the tags and holding them in his flesh hand, his face unreadable.
He looks back up at you and for a second your brain goes to the worst case scenario in which there's a lot of blood and screaming, but that image is quickly forgotten as Bucky gives you the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on his face.
He places his hands behind your thighs and effortlessly moves you to straddle him, his movements so fast that you drop the ice pack out of surprise, but you don’t have time to do much as Bucky starts peppering kisses all over your face.
Your surprise turns into giggles and he slowly stops his assault, the smile never living his face, the look on his eyes that of pure adoration. "Thank you, doll… You don’t know what this means to me."
You don’t know if you’re imagining it, but you think Bucky’s starting to lean up and you think he’s about to kiss you when you hear a whistle followed by a slapping sound and an “ow”.
You both turn towards the sound to find the whole team looking at you two, Steve has a smirk on his face, Tony’s next to him, rubbing the back of his head and the rest of them are snickering.
"Seriously?!" your irritation does nothing to hide your blush, Bucky’s own embarrassment clear as he hides his face in your chest. 
"What? Capsicle said a minute, we gave you a minute!" Tony said, earning another slap on the back of his head from Steve.
"Just go away!" you say laughing and they all go back to the front of the jet but you can hear their little laughs while they whisper, making you roll your eyes before looking down at Bucky who’s already looking up at you.
"Can you do me a favor, doll?" he asks you and you nod.
"Anything."
"I’d hate to lose these. Hold on to them for me?" he says, holding up his dog tags.
"Are you sure?" you ask uncertainly as he puts them around your neck.
"I’m more than sure." he says while looking at them on your chest and then looking back into your eyes, his smile impossibly big and you’re sure yours looks the same.
He wraps his arms around your waist, bringing you closer and you wrap one arm around his neck, your other hand going to play with the tags around your neck. You’re looking down at them when Bucky speaks again.
"So," He starts, his smile becoming a teasing smirk. "you think my ass is cute, huh?"
You groan, hiding your face in the crook of his neck while he laughs at your reaction.
You can hear the others laughing too and can’t help the laugh that comes out of you, more sure now than ever that everything is gonna be okay.
494 notes · View notes
perfiqq · 2 months ago
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DETENTION WITH THE SASHISU TRIO
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you and your classmates were stuck after-school in the desolate classroom, forced to write some 5-page essay about "the consequences of using jujutsu carelessly". two desk conjoined together to make a faux table where the second years sat around together working in misery. scatters of papers and stationary littered the desk (thanks to gojo.) looking like a intense last-minute studying of a college kids desk for an exam worth 20% of their grade
trapped with the stagnant air of the classroom, mixed with the june heat mingling together made some form of gas killing any intellectual coherence to form a sentence. the sunset coming from the windows didn't help either, the orange hue casting over you feeling like a warm blanket, hits of sleepiness radiating from the setting sun
how did you and your friends get in this situation? of course, gojo. (and you guys but we always blame gojo)
sent to a mission to exorcise some curses in an abandoned temple, all 4 went due to the apparent sighting where a mass of curses were residing there, a community of small fish who stick together to seem predatory, where they can team up on any explorer visiting the place
yaga couldn't possibly think a group of 16 year old experienced sorcerers will fuck up that badly
instead of exorcising the curses, gojo started a mini-cat fight between the two onwho could cause the most damage. of course, you and shoko add fuel to fire adding bets on who would win.
*behold fucking spammed lapse blues*, oh wow the temple is literally destroyed- now there's a fucking DRAGON SUMMONED and now the whole thing is in flames!
of course, you were recording the scene while ierei hit a smoke, both giggling ferociously until your camera was whipped away
panned to yaga-sensei in all his tired and disappointed glory
"you guys didn't even put a curtain on."
and now, here you are, forced in slavery (detention) to do grueling labor (writing) with your fellow innocent comrades (who are extremely at fault)
gojo whined, breaking the agreed upon silence of shame, pushing his body and chair away with his legs, a ugly screech forced out by the friction of the metallic legs and wooden floor rubbing together.
"this sucks! my brain hurts!!" a dramatic stretch of arms and legs accompanied, similar to how a cat would stretch after a long rest from doing nothing besides meowing all day
suguru only raised his brows, purple eyes still stuck on his notebook as he scribbled fancy, obscure words that would make an english professor ask if it's another language
"how can you feel hurt for something you didn't even use?." he mutters quietly. then a glance at his paper filled with doodles and barely legible writing made him add "or something you don't even have."
gojo would then stand up, banging his hands on the table, dust jumping from the sudden table
"what does that even mean?!" he said furrowing his brows "i'm in clear pain!" he gritted his teeth, not liking the fact he was brushed off. you and shoko didn't even have a muscle react, suguru didn't even look at him
"the fact you proved his point is crazy." shoko sighs as the insult flies over his head. flipping another page to continue the long-ass essay of moral bullshit Yaga made them do.
satoru felt sweat drop fall down his temple, gritting his teeth seeing how far his classmates were close to finishing, sitting down with his arms crossed. (he barely finished the first page, preferring to cater to his digimon the past hour.) geto was nearly finished, half a page left. whilst you and shoko trailing behind by another half a page. (you two were taking turns writing a page, letting the other copy with different phrasing.)
satoru only kept whining about random bullshit rather than doing the work, the friends only adding slight insulting remarks satoru didn't understand, but knew it was meant to be insulting.
turning to you for help, his eyes burned to you, feeling the intense gaze behind his sunglasses, who was sitting across from him. being the only one who didn't join the bashing of the six-eyes wielder, he silently pleaded for your defense. mistaking your silence as silent disagreement to the duos comments. in reality, you silently enjoyed it as a podcast.
of which, you only stifled a smirk, own eyes looking at the lanky boy after your eyes been glued to the paper silently the last hour.
"you know guys, knock it off," shoko raised a brow at that comment, you? defending gojo after being the biggest hater of gojo? (after utahime of course. and while you were a hater by the the sense of teasing. utahime was a hater in the sense of actually hating him.)
"it's not good to bully gojo.." you finally added after a long pause, "like seriously knock it off " you said more serious. "not funny." you looked between the two.
geto and shoko were a bit taken back, shoko scrunching her nose, crossing her arms while geto only grazed his teeth with his tongue and continued writing in silence.
it was slightly awkward, especially since you were always the one leading the torment of gojo satoru.
gojo only tilt his head, he was asking out of fake sadness, but he warmed up from the defense. even if it was not needed, the fact you wanted to defend him made him have a snarky smile plastered on. directed at the two as the glasses fell to the nose of his bridge, blue eyes squinting in satisfaction.
"aren't you defensive, today" shoko rested the palm of her cheek against the desk. pen pointing accusingly at you.
"of course." you paused before smirking.
"you shouldn't bully gojo for something he can't control."
"being an idiot is already hard enough."
the three of you erupted in laughter, the white-head jaws dropped in vexation.
"fuck all of you!"
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tinybitsubby · 1 year ago
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****Disclaimer: this is not my list. (meaning I don’t like/prefer/agree with everything on it)
Several months ago I was down some rabbit hole and found a message board where someone had asked a question about having a D/s oriented vacation and people responded. I went to visit it recently and it doesn’t exist anymore. I had copied it to notes to send to the Hubz at one point and thought I’d share it here and see what you all think of it. Thoughts? Ideas? Copy and pasted below.
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Someone asked a d/s chat room ideas to turn a romantic tropical vacation into a major D/s getaway for those exploring D/s.
1. Start off on the right foot. Spank her ass right before the flight or drive so it’s uncomfortable to sit during travel. Maybe tell her to sit still when she keeps shifting in her seat.
2. Tell her that unless thr public can hear, just for this trip she must always address you as sir. Punish forgetfulness.
3. Make her kneel every morning.
4. Objectify her by shoving a few fingers deep into her mouth a few times a day. Call her good girl and watch her gag for a minute then wipe her runny eyes and move on like nothing happened. My wife/sub says this type of brief degradation flips her mindset so fast. She hates it but loves the complicated emotional part.
5. Since the owiest part of anal is the initial insertion, tell her that she will be announcing every single time she’s about to get in the shower so he can come to the bathroom in a minute. When he comes in she must lube up her clean asshole and degrade herself by holding her own ass open for him. He will sink his dick all the way in and hold it there while she tells him a reason why she deserves to take his cock up her ass. If she can’t think of a good reason, the dick stays in until she does. Not fucking her, just staying in there stretching her open. Then he rinses off and leaves so she can shower. An uncomfortable size of dildo (not plug) can be used instead if he doesn’t like to get erections and then let them fade. I’m not into anal except for the very subby headspace it creates. It makes me feel so vulnerable and it’s kind of painful. We did this on a trip and it became a true exercise in submission as I got more and more sore. When he sat me down to tell me this would happen, it really set the tone for the trip. Don’t discount this idea. Also Halfway through the trip we had anal sex which is rare for us and it made every shower insertion after that more uncomfortable and really upped our D/s. Seriously, try it, especially if anal is really not her thing. She’ll feel like such a good sub. You want her to feel like a good sub for submitting in ways that are uncomfortable. Please try this! PS If she loves anal, don’t do this, hahaha. PPS. Since we got home he sometimes says tell me when you get in the shower next and I know this will happen and it reminds me of our trip when we solidified our DS.
6. Bring an implement she doesn’t like and tell her she must ask for 10 hard strokes every day by a certain time. Obviously No anger or lectures just checking it off the to-do list. If she forgets and the time passes, she gets 25 or more instead. You should know Tears are ok in the D/s dynamic. If you’re flying and don’t want to take implements then you always have a belt or a brush.
7. Spit in her mouth every time no one is looking
8. Let her know before you leave that even if she’s a very good girl, there will be tears twice on this trip to remind her of her submission. Make her ask for one of the times and surprise her with the other. You get to choose what makes her cry. Don’t overlook the power of this emotional release for a sub. This secretly also teaches her to ask for an emotional release when she feels it could be beneficial to her mental state or the relationship.
9. Tell her she cannot cum until the third day of the trip. Then have lots of sex the first two days.
10. If you are leaving town, make her dress like a total slut
11. Bruises man. Give her some really good butt bruises and then spend time every day, poking pinching and spanking them. It keeps her hyper aware of her place. A 1.5” dowel from hardware can give bruises in just a handful of strikes without chaffing the skin too much like stingy implements do because they take too many strikes to get a bruise.
12. Tell her that on this trip, if she has an alcoholic drink in her hand, there will also be a plug in her ass. No exceptions. Going to order a drink with lunch? Go plug that ass before we leave. For added fun, you pick the size each time. Alternatively, if that’s not possible, you could just tell her that whenever your dick is going in her pussy on this trip, there will also be a plug in her ass at the same time. Or alternate days.
13. She’s doesn’t get to orgasm on this trip.
14. Tell her she will kneel and suck your balls every time you change clothes. “Sorry, you have to come back to the room with me because I’m changing into my bathing suit.”
15. Make her stay naked every minute you’re alone.
16. Call her trashy names.
17. Whatever you want to do to Dom her, whatever your desire or fantasy is, do that. BUT, tell her in detail hours in advance. A sub’s brain goes haywire when told something like this. “Look at me. Tomorrow I’m going to spank you very hard and you’re going to hold very still. I’m going to cum when I’m done but how I cum is going to depend on how well you take your spanking. If you can stay still I’ll just sink into your cunt and that will be that. But if I have to keep telling you to get back into position or keep your feet down I’ll cum down your throat and if I have to wrestle you at all during your spanking, I’m fucking your ass and continuing to spank it.” Or just tell casually with a smile you know after dinner I’m going to fuck your face and slap it hard every time you need to pause to breathe. Etc.
18. I’m jealous. I want a D/s vacation! Just stuff holes all the time. Anytime you think of it, put your fingers, dick or toy into one of her holes for minute. Let her know her body will be invaded over and over on the trip multiple times a day and occasionally during the night. Make sure you tell her to expect it because then her mind will be on it all the time.
19. Flirt with other women and make her sit quietly and smile. Maybe kiss one.
20. Fig her. Especially if you can’t spank because of noise. At least 20 minutes, the heat doesn’t peak until 15. If you’re flying and can’t take ginger, China Gel on your thumb is almost as good.
21. Bind her and make her wait patiently while totally bored. If rope is a travel issue, take some medical tape.
22. Get her pregnant
23. Clothespins. Use them a lot. Is she sucking your dick, put them on her labia. Are you fucking her, put them on her nipples. Are you spanking her, put a row of several down the skin of her tummy or back on her labia. They keep her on edge and feeling subby. I’m not kidding try them because the ache when they are removed is like nothing else. If she’s sunning by the pool, maybe there’s one hidden somewhere for a while.
24. Just fucking Dom her, use the time to make your own D/s dreams come true. She wants you to take control.
25. Fuck man this list is great but maybe only pick a few.
26. Give her a daily writing assignment if you have relaxing time. Give her a question that is hard to talk about and demand honesty. Better yet, both of you share.
27. Tell her she can’t say no on this trip. Goes without saying, but respect hard limits.
28. Make her wear dresses with no panties. Pull it up every time no one is looking. Smack her pussy, or finger fuck her or sit back and admire. Just mix it up. Fuck her before you go somewhere so she has to feel jizz running down her legs.
29. Make her skip a meal now and then to watch you eat
30. Randomly tell her to head back to the room and masterbate to orgasm. Or to only get really close to it. Give her a time limit.
31. Choke her out. Maybe she wakes up in a compromising position.
32. If she’ll be wearing bathing suits, only spank or strap her on one side. She’ll be miserable with all the counts on only one side and if anything should show, it will just look like she took a tumble or something with a bruise or welt on just one side. It’s the symmetry that lets people know what’s up.
33. If there’s a need for a punishment spanking on the trip, do it in diaper position. It’s intense because you can see her face. Make sure you’re ready to handle seeing her face during a punishment as some Doms just can’t handle it.
34. Tell her you won’t be touching her vag once on the trip. Her other holes will be used as you see fit daily. You can put a binder clip on her labia to hold it closed to prove your point.
35. Carve a souvenir scar into her.
36. Tell anytime she wants to cum she’ll have to pick between two things she doesn’t like first. Get her close to orgasm so she’s really needy and then say I want you to come but first A or B. If she doesn’t pick in 10 seconds, she gets both then back to the orgasm.
37. Pick a window of time each day that she cannot speak
38. Tell her she must wake you up with her mouth every day.
39. Take medical gloves and do cold inspections of her. Make her feel like an object.
40. No eye contact for the trip.
41. Dude just tell her this trip will be rough. Rough sex, rough spanking, rough manhandling. Just make things challenging for her and then get through them together. That’s all we subs want. We want to endure a hard challenge for you and then be called a good girl for enduring it. You get to be the guy setting up whatever challenge turns you on AND be the support system when it’s emotional for her. That’s all of D/s!!!
42. Edge her. You can do it or she can, but lots of random edging to keep her needy all day.
43. Golden showers.
44. Make all decisions for her. Tell her when to get up, when to sleep, when to use the bathroom, what to wear, order her foodand drinks without consulting her. Tell her when sex is happening and what type. If it’s too much, just pick one day where she can’t make a decision.
45. If you’ve never slapped her face, start on this trip. Maybe just a couple times at first and then build up to several times in a row during some form of sex. Require eye contact. Let her tear up and let her go through the range of emotions. While looking at you and enduring it, let her feel your support, but then slap her again. As a submissive this is for real an emotional growth as a couple and can be meaningful. Talk to her about it the next day. Tell her she’s so good for taking it in and you’re going to slap her again soon.
46. Spank her very hard right before the trip so the little spankings here and there actually hurt quickly. Wipe tears and give hugs. This hard and soft feedback at the same time feeds a sub like you wouldn’t believe.
47. Don’t let her sleep in pajamas. Always nude. She’ll get used to it.
48. Force too much Alcohol/weed into her and then discuss both of your darkest fantasies.
49. Slap that pussy every chance you get. Keep it just a little sore.
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forbidding-souda · 4 months ago
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I can’t even remember if I’ve requested this before and you’ve already written it or not. But uh. Korekiyo spanking S/O? Pretty please? Just anything with that, go wild lol
(Assuming nsfw requests are open. Otherwise just ignore this)
Korekiyo Shinguuji spanking his S/O (NSFW)
4 you anon <3 this took me about 5 hours to write becaues i started watching hamilton roblox and got distracted. this might be too short bc i've actually never experienced spanking like this at all so this is all through the noggin and quora LMFAO WAIT YOU GUYS DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW OFTEN I USE QUORA AS MEANS OF GAINING INFO FOR SOME FICS LMFAOOOOO. here's a gundham spanking one i wrote before that perfectly explains this processs LOL
ya'll oh my god i am so sick rn as if classes don't start in two days bruh fucking free me im gonna slam my head through a wall bruh i get sick so easily it's not even funny i stole some of my roommates benedryl like i'm coughing so hard.
and all of these sprites i've been using this week are copy and pasted from old posts so i def need to remake them with hair color and piercing updates bc helppp LMFAO i'll do that eventually
-Mod Souda
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❤ He is the happiest man on the planet whenever it comes to giving you the sexual pleasure you need. He is delighted to be able to serve you.
❤ His long nails will offer soothing yet ticklish caresses to the back of your naked thighs. Your ass is such a tender part of your body, he loves to touch it, to grope it and when he does, he presses his lips to the pulse of your neck to feel how fast your heartbeat goes.
❤ He's always too excited to undress you. Even your shirt will still be on.
❤ He prefers using his hands, loving the physical contact.
❤ He'll have you folded over his lap, or having your front pressed against a wall on your tippy toes. No matter the position, every time you squirm you'll be able to feel his thick erection.
❤ "My, my." He'll coo at each of your desperate gasps.
❤ In between each spank is the sharp tingle that never seems to relent.
❤ For some real visualization:
❤ You had your knees to the floor and your chest against the couch. Your wrists were constructed with his favorite red rope, the color looked so pretty against you. One of his hands held you down from between your shoulder blades while the other went back and forth compacting against your ass.
❤ Your underwear wasn't even fully off and neither was your pants. They were pulled down to just below the fold of your cheeks.
❤ He was too impatient to strip you.
❤ The loud smack made you cry out in pain, especially when his large hand his the sensitive curves, the stinging almost unbearable.
❤ Your muscles kept clenching, kept tensing, and when he saw the shake of your glutes, his spanks would go harder.
❤ Relentless, back and forth, back and forth, giving you no space to even breathe.
❤ Sometimes he'll let you lay across his lap, your back arched and thighs apart, having you wearing nothing but your socks as he punishes you with rough smacks. From his angle he can perfectly capture both cheeks at the same time, giving your body both a cold shock and an aroused hotness. His fingers will be spread, covering ass much of your skin as he can.
❤ "How gorgeous you are," he'll whisper, more at you than him. You can hear how out of breath he is, desperate to be inside of you. "How beautiful, how perfect."
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mischiefmaker615 · 4 months ago
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Can you do musical mischief one shot to Sailer Song by gigi perez? smut pleaseee
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Inspiration: "Sailor Song" by Gigi Perez 
Summary: Loki cant sit with the fact that your bothered. Perhaps there's a way to take your mind off things..
Rating: R 
The last thing to be heard shaking the tower was the slam of the door as Y/N stormed out in a huff. Tony threw his hands up in the air in frustration as he marched the opposite way, right to his bar predictably and didn’t even bother getting a glass as he popped the lid open.
Loki furrowed his brows, ignoring the dizziness he had from his eyes moving back and forth in the argument between the two that so rudely interrupted his book. He could care less about the iron idiot, finding the bickering not uncommon between the two when it came to political and government discussions. It quite amused him really, how worked up one could get when all they needed was a good ruler. He hoped they all regretted it not allowing him the chance and snorted to himself as he went back to his literature.
After a solid five minutes of trying to get back into it, he found his eyes having constantly wondered up towards the door Y/N had stormed out at, it leading to the outside balcony.
The poor thing, normally using the Midgardian smoke to calm her nerves when it was just an endless cycle waiting to happen again. Loki smirked to himself, knowing a good fucking would do her good. It works wonders on him, which is why normally he was calm and collected.. or at least back in Asgard. It was quite difficult to find a mate in this realm when his reputation hung with the fact that people had died while he was trying to take over.
Hypocritical humans..
Still, he couldn’t help but get amused whenever she decided to stumble back in here, giddy as a lark before she would disappear for the night in her room. Perhaps today he would delay her retreat to have some fun of his own? He had come to care for the Midgardian these past months of living here, and it was becoming more difficult ignoring the pain in his chest he had got when seeing her upset.
Setting his book aside, he sighed and sauntered over to the door of the balcony, his hand pausing at the handle when Tony slurred at him.
‘’I wouldn’t do that if I were you, people who get high can be unpredictable at times.’’ He warned, hiccupping as he raised the bottle to his lips again.
‘’i appreciate your concern Stark but I do normally prefer advice from those who don’t start the issues in the first place.’’ Loki said dryly, walking out the door before Tony could hurl an insult at him.
As soon as the door shut behind him, the cold night air hit him gently as well as a light smell of the smoke humans tended to leave everywhere. Following it, he turned the corner to find her leaning against the railing, looking down at the city with a cigarette between her fingers and her ass looking absolutely delectable as he slowly approached.
‘’perhaps avoiding the subject would help ease the tension from now on’’ Loki suggested, copying her position as he leaned on his forearms against the railing, giving a brief look at the city before he turned his attention to something much better looking.
‘’he started it.’’ Y/N rolled her eyes, her tone having calmed down and had a tired calm to it.
‘’perhaps it’s just an excuse to hold your attentions’’ Loki offered, his voice just as gentle while his eyes drank in her features while she continued to stare into the night.
‘’Tony fucks anything that breathes, are you suggesting he is merely trying to pick a fight like a school boy because he likes me?” she said with almost amusement and Loki chuckled.
‘’boys have a funny way of showing it.’’
‘’like you?”
Loki’s features stilled slowly into expressionless, looking at her as she looked to him with blown pupils. ‘’clarify love?”
Y/N couldn’t help but give him the same smirk he owned, having silenced him in the rarest of moments not many got to have. ‘’you hardly speak words but you’re eyes shout volumes. I see the way you look at me, how your attention holds when I speak, I often wonder how many times you envision yourself doing things to me if only you’d get a chance..’’
Loki’s brows raised, his mind blank for once as he struggled to find a good come back, response, something as his mouth opened with silent words. As she held eye contact while she waited, she smirked and flicked the cigarette over the side of the balcony, her balance shifty as she turned to face him, leaning her weight on one hand on the rail.
‘’ would you please.. Do the things you said you'd do to me’’ she didn’t so much ask as she took a small step forward, her hips swaying with each step while her fingers ran across the railing with her, Loki shifting so his back was to it once she moved herself in front of him.
‘’in your mind.. I’m sure you’ve had many ideas..’’ she finished, knowing fully well there were several things he had thought upon doing but of course they stayed sealed behind his lips.
Was she a witch? Having read his mind.. or perhaps he had been that obvious and failed to hide his eye contact whenever she was in the same room. Damn.. this woman wasn’t like the others.. which was probably why she had captured his attention in the first place since day one. Even now she stood before him, hands running behind her hips to rest her fingers in her back jean pockets. She shifted to one hip, her head tilted as if she knew what she was doing to him and her brow raised up with an attitude that had something snap in him.
‘’Y/N.. are you requesting I release a bit of the feral thoughts I have indeed envisioned between you and I and put them to action?” he asked carefully, his voice having gotten dangerously quiet as he owned up to her accusations. While he spoke, having rested his back against the railing, a hand reached out slowly, a single finger hooking itself to her belt just beside the buckle. His eye contact had hers hostage, pulling her forward as she let him, walking with his slow pull before she rested her hands at his chest.
‘’will you love me like a sailor?” she whispered, a brow raising in a challenging motion as his hands slowly came to rest on her hips while he gave her a playful smile.
‘’darling.. I will love you thoroughly..’’ he smirked, taking upon the challenge as she held his standards to men at sea.
This poor thing.. he knew one’s mouth of a seaman can cuss rather excessively to ones exhaustion. If she was wishing for him to make do, she had quite the surprise coming. He was a god after all, his stamina was not one to play with but he had a good idea one where he wished to start first as he spun them both around, her back now to the railing and night sky.
‘’trust me darling..’’
‘’that’s quite the tall order Mischief, can i?” she teased, his grip on her hands tightening at her playfulness while he grinned at his nickname.
‘’if not for long, at least right now. Hands at my shoulders darling when I tell you..’’ he whispered before to her surprise, he sank down to his knees.
If one was at the other side of the windows, he was far from caring. While her hands gripped the railing on either side of her, she felt his fingers play at her jean button, feeling it come undone before the zipper was next to follow. Her head fell back at her eyes fluttered closed, welcoming his touch as his slender fingers gripped her jeans at her hips before he slowly pulled them down to her knees.
Black lace. It was almost as if this woman was begging for it..
His eyes flicked up to hers, seeing how she generously stretched her neck to keep her eyes closed to the sky, the night air flowing through her hair and the moonlight enhancing all of her features. She was nothing less than a goddess.. it took all his might not to rise up and sink his teeth into her skin, an action he would very much come back to as he leaned forward, inhaling as his own eyes fluttered closed to the scent of her arousal.
‘’my my you smell delectable.. but you are no Midgardian, are you?” he whispered, his eyes raising to hers with gentle curiosity while she looked down with shyness.
‘’half..’’
Loki’s brows raised at his, his hands now resting at the back of her thighs, thumbs rubbing against her skin just beneath her rump. ‘’you’ve hide your secret well darling’’ he smirked, sure that to find it one would have to get this close and intimate with her.. something only he craved to be the one to know.
‘’there’s a lot of things you’ll find out about me.’’ She teased and he practically pulled her into his face, her fingers gripping the railing as his teeth caught the top of her panties before he slowly began to pull them down.
The night air had her shiver now, but the anticipation held back any complains as she bit her bottom lip at the feeling of him. his eyes rose back up, taking in the sight of her nakedness now that had him shift on his knees with the nagging pressure in his own pants.
‘’beautiful darling.. and all dripping for me..’’ he breathed, leaving slow, open mouth kisses on her inner thighs, teasing her as he purposefully ignored where she needed him most. Briefly, it was difficult for him to but knew the end result would be worth it is she was pent up and frustrated.
He was just now using his tongue and lips to suck on her soft skin of her inner thigh before he felt her fingers tangle in his hair with warning pressure, feeling her shift and squirm in place as he chuckled.
‘’eager aren’t me my darling’’
‘’not as-‘’ a gasp left her lips as he cut her words off, having leaned forward to run his tongue against her, having found her clit instantly.
‘’now darling’’ he murmured as she opened her eyes, having to try to remember a moment on what he was reminding her of before her hands quickly grabbed for his shoulders, feeling his hands lifting her up by her ass and set her down upon the rail.
Her fingers held tight to his shoulders, knowing if she were to let go and risk leaning back, she would plunge down to the city below. Loki stayed on his knees, scooting closer so he was back in her cunt with the better height accommodations. He could feel her thighs shaking, tightening wit a threat to close, but he was having none of that. He kept himself between her legs, his mouth giving in to suckle at her clit while his tongue now and again went to stoke her folds he had parted with two fingers. His other hand was wrapped around her thigh, resting at the top while her leg rested upon his shoulder.
‘’gods..’’ she shuddered with a moan, her eyes closing as he head fell back, fingers in his hair while her other hand stayed first at his shoulder. She could feel him lean a bit into her massaging fingers, a growl sending vibrations right through her pussy that sent her arousal binding tighter within her.
She gets off on the thrill.. the risk of falling meaningless to her and the only care in the world right now was for her finish with the only one in the tower she cared being around. ‘’L-Loki..’’ she breathed out, moaning his name as he moaned at the mere taste of her while he stroked his tongue against her like an eager puppy.
‘’that’s it darling.. you’re almost there..’’ he groaned, his hands moving behind her hips to help lean her back ever so slightly, pushing it face more into her and began thrusting his tongue into her center.
Both hands gripped her hair now, short breaths coming out as she wordlessly parted her lips and felt her coming to that delicious edge right before she would fall.
‘’Loki I’m.. I’m..’’ she whimpered, her muscles tightening as she began to squirm, his hold tight and not letting go as he tongue fucked her as desperately as she wanted this.
‘’cum darling.. cum for me..’’ he moaned, feeling her inner walls flutter and tighten around his tongue as he relentlessly didn’t ease up while she cried out.
She screamed out his name, her hands self continuously pushing his face deeper against her as he chest thrust out and her eyes rolled back. She spasmed, her orgasm making her see stars that had Loki’s hands rise a bit up her back to make sure she didn’t fall back while he took his time coming to a slow stop.
When he could feel her walls ease up on milking his tongue, he leaned back, giving each inner thigh a kiss before he raised his head to grin at her, her essence coating his chin and nose where her cheeks reddened at the sight.
‘’I t-think I found an alternative than smoking..’’ she breathed, making him chuckle as he carefully pulled her forward to her feet, his hands at her hips to steady and make sure she was balanced before he pulled up her clothing to her hips.
‘’than I suppose there’s some benefit to when Tony opens his mouth.’’
‘’I quite like when you open yours’’ Y/N teased, Loki looking up at her with a smirk before he stood, reminding her just how tall he was compared to hers.
‘’well then darling, i do wish to put some other thoughts into actions if you so wish it.’’ He smirked, not so much asking as he took hold of her wrist gently to begin to lead her inside.
‘’besides, if you could still walk, we’re not finished.’’ 
DM a song for your own Musical Mischief One Shot :)
Pic was also part of the inspiration Lol 
Tag List: @foxherder  @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fire-in-her-veinz
Note: this is how my brain works. it thought of getting high, leading to drugs, leading to this song that comes to my brain sometimes. WARNING! not for everyone.
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okerum · 5 months ago
Text
throughout the short duration of my maze runner hyperfix i would write down random thoughts/headcanons i had about them so i'll just copy-paste all of them here
- newt is crazy ticklish but he gets so irritated when someone tickles him. minho does not care
- newt cant sleep in the same room as thomas because thomas snores crazy loud and newt is a v light sleeper
- thomas has a really bad habit of chewing on his fingernails
- once newt got over them kidnapping thomas, he got along really well with group b. and they loved him too (ik him and sonya r siblings but him and harriet would be such good friends. see the vision)
- newt loves reading. i think classics would be his faves
- also good omens
- also he likes mythology
- he probably needs glasses though
- thomas and minho would probably play roblox together and like. bully kids. sometimes brenda will tag along too (shes the meanest but she also thinks roblox is dumb so she goes on it less)
- minho is a total sweat when it comes to gaming
- old grandma newt
- minho and newt would be roomates
- ocd newt maybe
- thomas has SEVERE depersonalization problems
- i can picture newt dancing as a sort of outlet. not sure what kind but just in general
- minho has AT LEAST one skirt
- newt braids his hair ‼️‼️
- thomas and newt and teresa and sonya are all autistic
- also all trans
- plus brenda
- who is also a butch lesbian
- newt is lefthanded
- thomas is the kid with the peanut allergy
- NEWT NONBINARY! THEY/HE!!!!
- do i eveb have to say t4t newtmas...
- teresa is a big swiftie
- newt would like shoujo animes
- minho would like shounen animes
- none of the main 3 can dress themselves and they look like shit usually
- newt doesnt get flustered like at all but THOMAS .... he goes red at any compliment from his crushes
- minho and thomas wrestling lmfaooo
- theyve probably broken several fhings in the process. including walls
- minho badly mocks newt's accent and he HATES it
- newt probably lets minho get away with a lot of things that he doesnt let anyone else get away with though because hes just used to it atp
- thomas is jealous because newt gives him a good scolding (affectionate) whenever he pisses him off. if hes particularly upset, newt will just ignore him for a few hours which is so hard for thomas
- newt has a lot of self-soothing behaviors but he rocks (like, rocking back and forth) a lot
- hes mega autistic look hes either minimum eye contact or intense uninterrupted eye contact and he hates being touched unless hes warned
- also the whole routines/order/rules thing he has going on especially in the glade
- AUTISTIC
- newt's prolly one of those film nerds
- never watched it but he'd be the type to love brokeback mountain
- thomas is a chronic flannel wearer
- oh also forgot its not a given but newt has chronic pain and a mobility aid
- puerto rican thomas...
- hes also demiromantic and demisexual
- thomas is also ticklish
- tickle fights perhaps....
- thomas fell asleep first once at a sleepover and minho drew all over him/fucked with him in his sleep and he never fell asleep before minho ever again
- the gladers probably smelled like shit
- 40 some adolescent-teen boys all alone no supervision doing physical labor all day every day.... 💀
- the older boys do it more but the younger ones need reminding
- runners probably bathe more often too
- esp in the movies when the box only comes up monthly + no visible building for showers??
- teresa came up and GAGGED
- spiderman newt + batman thomas
- newt probavly is prone to sunburns and he was SUFFERINGGG in the scorch. sonya too but she had it a lot easier w group b's circumstances
- half filipino teresa
- also hispanic brenda is that obvious or not
- newt is unexpectedly demanding in relationships he wants kisses all the time
- newt is a bland ass texter
- thomas just doesnt text. he'll facetime you any time u text him bc he doesnt wanna text
- sonya knows basically NO celebrities you'll go "you know chris pratt??" and she'll be like "who tf 💀" (the ones she does know are just the women she has a crush on)
- gally has probably called newt the f slur before but only because he didnt know the extent of how bad it was and (after a good punch and superduper miffed) newt tells him yhe history of it and he never did it again. he felt rlly bad too
- teresa 100% has a full fursona set up in her head
- she also probably silently assigns everyone else fursonas
- newt is a reptile owner
- minho likes dogs but hes also a terrible pet owner so he just goes over to thomas' place to play with his dog
- sonya watches video essays. shes one of those people that'll turn one on every time she sits and eats
- harriet and newt r besties btw
- sometimes newt gets a little nosy about what sonya wont tell him
- thomas has a rbf and intimidates everyone at first (though its usually not long before he makes a fool of himself and everyone realizes hes just a Guy)
- sonya is like newt's reality checker
- ouuugghhh flower shop/tattoo parlor sonya/harriet
- minho tiktok user x newt youtube shorts user x thomas instagram reels user
- gally has NO social media
- newt has a lowkey freakishly good memory
- sonya has a small collection of stuffed animals. she probably liked squishmallows when they were a thing, she collected them a little
- she has pet mice and she pampers them
- newt and sonya have hamster trauma
- the ENTIRE gang went to see barbie together and they all dressed up
- gally probably showed up not dressed up but sonya and newt planned it so they brought him an outfit and peer pressured him into changing into it at the theater
- it was probably a barbie fit (as punishment) while the rest of the guys were kens
- have i said newt and minho would be roomies or no
- minho and frypan have TOTAL brainrot humor and they bounce off each other (sometimes thomas participates. newt watches silently but judgementally)
- newt with eds on top of his chronic pain from his knee im sorry bro
- very musically inclined thomas versus musically incompetent newt
- minho calls newt hot nonchalantly / newt attempted b4 /ref
- feel like its also a given but newt and alby had a fling
- thomas infodumps on social media and minho just talks about himself
- newt is probably entirely caught up in some niche drama situation someone's posting about
- minho's tiktok fyp is convinced hes a gay man
- newt's is probably convinced hes a lesbian
- thomas just has like weird obscure humor that nobody (including him) understands
- sonya is chappel roan's #1 fan
- truth or dare with minho goes CRAZY
- harriet has a pet tarantula.... freaky little lesbian.....
- newt smoking to get relief from his chronic pain and anxiety and depression and trauma and
- minho probably discovered a long time ago that while newt will NEVER ask for it, he sleeps better with physical contact. so he holds his hand silently and without acknowledging it
- passenger princess thomas lmfaoaoooofofotitu
- ivy trio plays horror games like phasmophobia and lethal company. thomas always dies first and newt is the only one actually playing the game
- rip newt you wouldve loved being inside while it rains and reading a good book
- he'd also be really good at romanticizing the midwest
-END-
okay thats all. a few edits were made so its coherent/fits my current views of the characters more but its 98% raw from my notes app. just a peek into my twisted mind 😈😈😈
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she-whatshername · 13 days ago
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Heyy love! I am not so sure if I asked you this before (I think I did), could you make a scenario on Bodhi coming into the kitchen and finding us baking/cooking something he really loves. Thank you if you do. ❤️
Hello!! Thank you for your patience as I pulled this together. Life has been lifeing these past few weeks and finding time to write an actual fic vs my usual headcannons has been tough. But here we are. I added a little twist to the request, I hope that's alright. Also, IDK why, but I wanted to bring some angst into this fic. Enjoy. Also also not edited because, it me lolol
Bodhi hadn't realized he had eaten so much today, but realizations like this usually tend to happen when you find yourself spewing your guts into the drain of the quadrant showers, fully clothed and soaking wet. Gods, he would never look at breakfast food the same way ever again.
He would never look at you the same way ever again. That is, if you'd even want to look his way again.
Aside from the bile, feelings of shame and guilt stirred into his stomach.
He walked out on you. After you had done what would be the kindest gesture anyone has done for Bodhi, second to the silver scar with his invisible signature carved onto his cousins back. Fuck, he really messed up.
After taking a few more deep breaths, and a few more heaves of what he assumed was last nights dinner, Bodhi turned off the running water, returned to his room to peel off his clothes and climb into bed. Everything but sleep seemed to find him in the late hours of the night.
The next day he decided to skip breakfast and head to the sparring mats, hoping to clear his mind if not by his own abilities or someone punching some sense into him. Luck came in the form of Garrick, who happily took him up on the offer.
A few sessions later Bodhi was standing with his hands on his muscle of his hips, catching his breath, only to lose it as you entered the gym. He couldn't help but stare, and the moment your eyes both connected he felt that same twist in his stomach despite how empty it was.
You had managed to give him a glare that expressed both your anger and hurt; a marvel of your beauty, one that always made Bodhi awestruck. But, your stare and quick retreat back to the hall caught Garricks attention, "What was that?"
"Nothing." Bodhi shrugged him off.
But, Garrick was both observant, and persistent, and a pain in the ass when the two combine, "Not nothing. She was silently screaming at you to fuck off and hug her with her eyes. What's the deal? I thought you two were good."
Bodhi decided to just cave in, because he knew Garrick wasn't going to let up. He's like a dog on a bone when it comes to gossip and the fact that Bodhi looked up to him like a brother didn't make it any easier, "I uh...we." Bodhi found himself stumbling over his words, "She invited me to her room, she had a surprise for me."
"Oh did she now."
Bodhi grimaced, "Not like that, cut it out."
"So what was it?"
Bodhi couldn't help but look at the floor, "You remember those tea cakes we had growing up back home? The ones with the-"
"The best icing ever? Perfectly baked? Hells yes I remember them." Garrick eyes were growing wider by the second, "We used to get in so much shit trying to take extra ones from the staff at Riorson House. I had to shovel so much horeshit that one summer when Xaden and I stole a whole plate. Why the fuck are you bringing up tea cakes?"
"She made them." Bodhi answered simply, "I dont know how she did it but she found the recipe and...she made them. Just like the ones back home."
"Fuck."
"It gets worse." Bodhi added sourly, "You know she's good at drawing right? She practically redrew the map in our land navigation exercise because she's got this fantastic memory. Well, she also..." Fuck was he going to vomit again, "She drew me a landscape of Aretia. The mountains and valleys. She got a scribe to get a copy of an old battle brief from the rebellion on a favor and copied it. She knew I was feeling homesick so she brought home to me, said we could eat together in front of her drawing...and pretend I was back home."
Garrick took a step backwards, eyes now wide in disbelief, "Well...fuck. So, wait why was she glaring at you this morning."
"I may have...." Bodhi mumbled out the rest.
"You what?"
"I may have...maybe....I walked out on her - wait Garrick what are you - ack!" Bodhi didn't have any time to react as his body was hoisted in the air and slammed down on the mat in an aggressive tackle. It only took a few seconds but Bodhi found himself with his arm twisted behind his back and face pressed into the leather mats, It was just like he was a teenager again, "Garrick! Let me go."
"You're telling me she made this nice ass gesture for you. Drawing you a picture of our fucking home," He gritted that part out in a harsh whisper, "And you walked out on her. What the fuck is wrong with you?"
Bodhi couldn't help but bite out, "You're giving me lectures on how to talk to women? You're one to talk- Ow, Fuck!"
Bodhi found himself stuttering over his words, it didnt' help that he was feeling the blood drain from his arm under Garricks secure grasp "I don't know! I got...I got overwhelmed and-"
"Gods, I already have to deal with one lovestruck idiot, I can't take having to chase down another one. I'm going to get you excused from classes today because you're clearly sick in the fucking head. Get your shit together and go fucking apologize or I will take you up to the parapet and throw you off myself." He ended his threat with a final shove of his forearm, pushing Bodhi's face further into the mat
"Okay, Okay!" He whined before Garrick finally released him, muttering a few reprimanding words in Tyrrish before walking out of the gym. Bodhi rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling. He had a lot of making up to do.
And he did. He spent most of the morning pacing around his room trying to think of a proper apology. Then, it was to the infantry quadrant to cash in on a favor himself and finally it was mid afternoon and he had enough courage to face you. So he waited outside your room for what felt like hours until you finally arrived, pausing at the end of the hall. As you attempted to turn away raced towards you, almost dropping to his knees to begin his apology, only for you to drag him into your room, "Its not safe for you to do that."
Gods, even when your pissed at him, you still have the clarity to recognize the politicalness of your relationship. You really are absolutely brilliant.
Over the course of the afternoon he fulfilled his objective of apologizing profusely, from being venerable in his own trauma of what happened in Aretia, and how meaningful your gift was that it created a sense of foreboding joy within him, and emotions he hadn't taken the time to process bubbled over, letting you down in the process.
You listened carefully, but even you had your limits of watching a man you love kneel before you with such shame on his face. You wrapped him into a hug, finding it healing for you both. And, as the merciful and and kind woman you are, you unwrapped the tea cakes from the cloth on your desk next to the painting, inviting him to sit down with you again to enjoy a meal a meal from his home.
"You're my home." He said to you, his hands never letting go of yours, "I will always be home whenever I am with you."
And he made a promise to you that day, when all was over with this war, when the truth of his rebellion eventually finds itself out, when the venin are vanquished beyond the barrens, he would sit with you under a tree in the hillsides of Aretia as husband and wife, your children playing in the not far off distance, safe and happy.
And as a man of his word, three years later, he did just that.
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amateurasstrologer · 7 months ago
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BY NECESSITY #1 SATURN IN PISCES
Hi babies, what’s up? You thought I forgot about you? 
Well, you’re right, I did. But I’m back, bitches - at least for today - to remind you that astrology is still the shit. So, before I ghost again, let’s talk. This week it’s a Saturn in Pisces special. 
Now, before you’re like, “Are you kidding? This bitch comes back after how long to talk about some random ass placement that doesn’t even apply to me? Ugh.” Just take a breath. Saturn is in Pisces. Right now. In the sky. So even if you’re not getting extra fucked like all the people having their Saturn Return, you’re still experiencing the energy and all the shit I’m about to say still applies to you. 
Alright. First, let’s talk Saturn. Saturn is all about form. It’s foundations, it’s structure, it’s hard, it’s the shit you stand on that you forget you’re standing on (until a transit happens and forces you to look down in ice cold terror). It’s important to remember that Saturn deals with all foundations - which foundation (physical, mental, etc.) depends on which sign you’re working with. When Pisces gets involved, you’re dealing with your psychological, emotional foundation.
Next, Pisces. Pisces is about all dissolution. Pisces is last in line for a reason. All the shit you absorbed during your little life cycle - collective beliefs and ideals, definitions of success, definitions of failure, the shit your parents believed, the shit their parents believed, etc. - someone needs to dissolve all that loud biz (cue Pisces) so you can get back in touch with the real true you (cue Aries). Pisces is on that transcendental shit - it’s here to elevate you, it’s fucking your foundations up in a beautifully painful liquidation process, as in we’re closing everything has got to go this business is over forever goodbye we’re done. 
When you put these two together and you get a fucking shit show. Hardening and dissolving? Opposites. Pisces is like “yes I’m here to love you forget you ever had a structure all of this is meaningless it’s time blend in the timeless space of forgiveness we’ll feel it all and understand the origin of life the mystery of life heart eyes” and Saturn is like “Look at your life! Build something! Be accountable! These are your limits - learn them! Wake up! You dropped your spine! Go pick it up! But also good luck bending over to pick it up because you don’t have a spine! Ha!” 
It doesn’t take eyes to see that Saturn is not comfy in Pisces. And it’s true, Pisces and Saturn do bring very different shit to the party. But relationships are raw materials, babies, it’s what you make with them that matters.
Saturn and Pisces, together, create an opportunity for you to give your psychological, emotional foundation a fucking upgrade. Pisces helps you dissolve the fake ass bull shit persona you’ve been passing off as a self, and Saturn helps you reform into a person who, you know, you’re actually happy to be - a person with a psychological foundation based on inner-truth, not on societal/cultural/ancestral rules and regulations. Bitch, you’re a treasure! You’re a beautiful unique person, not a robot! If you wanted to be all copy paste should have reincarnated as a keyboard smh. Wake up.
Saturn in Pisces is a call to transform yourself on a spiritual level. The deepest level. (Deeper than you Scorpio sorry.) This isn’t some find a new job, find a new hobby bull shit. This is deep unconscious reconditioning. This is scary, triggering shit. You thought Pisces was out here just blending in the gooey goodness of love? Please. Think about what dissolution actually means. You want to be psychologically free? You want to scrub your karma? Get in touch with your essence? Lol. Girl. Get ready. This transformation process is a gnarly, confusing, and, most importantly, it takes time (thanks, Saturn). Just can’t rush it. 
Alright, before you get too scared to continue, let me say it one more time for the people in the back: When Saturn is in Pisces, the unconscious, emotional (Pisces) foundation (Saturn) of your life stops being hidden. Material that was collecting dust (and power) in your unconscious (Pisces) is suddenly visible (Saturn). Surprise, bitch! Time to take a look.
Okay. Now, what happens when you’re confronted with your very own subconscious (Pisces) scaffolding (Saturn)? Well, two options: 
(1) You lose perspective and collapse the transformation process before it has time to do its thing, dissolving your sense of self (Pisces) and hardening around rigid beliefs (Saturn) to bring yourself back to a superficial sense of safety, making your life temporarily more stable and comfy but ten million times harder to confront your psychological foundation at the next opportunity.
(2) You stay focused on the big picture and face your fears, dissolving the toxic beliefs you were unconsciously building your life on (Pisces) and reforming your identity (Saturn) into something real and true, making your life temporarily more lonely and difficult but ten million times easier to relate to yourself and others forever and ever amen.
“Uh wtf who would pick option one?” You, me, anyone allowing themselves to actually feel the crippling existential dread of having to face the unknown (Pisces) or anyone who can’t bear the thought of looking critically at their inherited beliefs (Saturn). It’s not an opportunity for the faint of heart. Or for anyone who doesn’t have, at the very least, one friend. And not some moralizing “forgiveness heals all wounds hang in there” type of friend - I’m talking some real ass, truth staring ass, love you anyways bitch.
So, why did I return from the underworld to tell you this shit now? Because Saturn is only halfway through it’s uncomfortable stay on the Pisces commune. Listen - if you’re starting to feel crazy, like (1) “I swear some shit must be up I just cannot catch a break from feeling like living shit” and (2) “why does the same shit continue to happen to me over and over again like fuck I thought I got over this shit in 1933” it’s because (1) you’re being called to transform and transformation is an active process time to stop being dragged around use you legs and (2) part of this particular transformation process is acknowledging that you did not leave any shit in 1933 and you’ve actually been dragging that ugly shit around in your unconscious and it’s secretly been controlling every decision you’ve made since then. Sorry.
“Ugh, can I just close my eyes and open them when this whack ass transit is over?” Sure. They’re your eyes, babe. But, just between you and me, why would you want to do that? This is a wonderfully unique time to face the truth (Saturn) and give yourself compassion and grace (Pisces), so that you can, oh, I don’t know, turn this car around before you and your unconscious Thelma and Louise yourselves. For a limited time only - the lights are on! There is no better time to look at this shit. The cosmic support is here. Right now. Let these lunar lovelies carry you through. 
The key to navigating this transit successfully (and consciously), is to pay attention to what you’re dissolving, and what you’re hardening around. Be suspicious about the shit you take for granted emotionally - investigate that foundation - ask yourself: Where did this shit even come from? Is this the psychological foundation I want to perpetuate? Don’t keep trying to wrap yourself back up in that shed skin, babies, it’s not a good look. Embrace the rawness.
The energies are active, the pressure is there, but if you open yourself to working with the energy of the times instead of just closing your eyes and hoping for the best, you can completely transform your life over the next 12 months. No joke. No exaggeration.
Until we meet again, bitches, happy charting.
XO BULLSHIT FREE ASTROLOGY 
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ask-codeearasure · 1 month ago
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The Outer Realms -- Chapter 17
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—-----
Chapter Seventeen:
Opposition
—----
“You can’t escape the past. Right? Be a shame if I had to put them on again. Cast Irons… well, it’s hard to clean.” – Vander (Arcane)
—-
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” asked Error, confused.
Ink had just finished filling him in on the information he got from Edge. Error was right, Dream was not dead, but technically he was dying or in critical condition. Whatever golden apples that other skeleton threw at them back in Dreamtale were probably sick twisted copies of his friend’s soul, but it also implied they probably knew where Dream was.
“I don’t know, who knows where these… Outer-what-ever is at…” Ink shrugged, “I just want to check on my dads before we even begin trying to find it.”
Zephyrtop was the last AU in the lineup anyways. For Error, sorting through the code there would be a breeze while Ink caught up with Gaster, Aster, and his four brothers. And considering the former two were the technical creators of Zephyrtop altogether, the probability of it staying destroyed if they were too late was second to none.
Besides, with two of the very few creators left in the multiverse secure under his belt and held highly in his figurative heart, maybe they could help Ink find Dream. Error could only do so much with a being who had no code to his existence anyways.
“My guess is we’ll have to pick a direction and then just keep going until we find something.” Error huffed, cleaning his glasses with his scarf. He was already annoyed with the prospect of another AU he had to recode, remove another destruction code, and-or adding that blasted counter-command just to keep that weird copy of himself from destroying another AU.
“But what if we go in the wrong direction?” Ink asked.
“Then we can loop around. If they called this place the Inner Circle, then the best assumption we have is that everything is in a circle, we can loop around until we find your side-piece.” Error stated as if it were a simple matter. 
“Dream is not my ‘side-piece’, Error,” Ink hissed through his teeth.
The glitch rolled his eyelights. Though he had to admit, he was downplaying the entire thing. Who knew how many AUs were technically out there. It could be hundreds to millions, a good amount of said AUs likely being destroyed by the copy-cat and thus just being blank white nothingness. So if they made the wrong assumption as to how far they could go or not would mean they’d be searching for days to even years.
Even Error understood they didn’t have much time, but there really was not much they could do outside of participate in these fucking guessing games. At this point playing a game of Russian Roulette would get them closer to finding Dream. They could split up, but Ink and his memory problems were as untrustworthy as a pipe bomb with a broken timer the size of a tactical nuke. You don’t know whether or not you defused the damn thing, and even if you did, would you really trust your life with it? So he was stuck here.
Plus, there was that husk running around, that stupid fucking anomaly wearing Ink’s face without a single care in the world. If there was the copy-cat and the husk, that meant there was the likely chance that they both have a similar history to him and Ink. They likely both fought each other over the same reasons and since that anomaly was a pain in the ass to take down, that meant that the other glitch was also going to be a problem.
Either that, or the only things they had going for them was at face-value.
Or he was overthinking it.
He probably was overthinking it.
Definitely.
There is no way Error couldn’t kick BOTH of those impostors’ asses SINGLE HANDEDLY, NO SWEAT, NO FUCKS GIVEN!
Ink tapped him on the forehead, prompting Error to jump and swat their smaller hand away. His friend wasn’t phased.
“Whatcha thinkin’ about?”
The glitch snorted. “Not much. Are we going to your weird parents’ place or what?”
“Awww, did ya finally wanna meet my old men?” Ink playfully rocked back on his heels, loosely crossing his arms behind his back. “It’s about time, they’ve been asking about you for ages!”
He’s…? There is no way they’ve been talking about him to their fucking parents…? Why would they?
“Uh huh. Sure they were.” Error clicked his tongues in repulsion. “No, I just want to get this over with then go back to my Anti-Void and pretend none of this ever happened.”
“Oh. Okay.” Ink’s face fell, but at least they didn’t push the issue. They opened a portal to Zephyrtop’s motherboard and jumped in. Error followed suit, wishing that one day Ink would learn another way to make portals with literally anything else but paint. He hated the texture.
Both outcodes arrived, Ink pleasantly surprised at the fact Zephyrtop’s motherboard was actually decorated, and Error looking through every nook and cranny of the space to find the coding ‘screen’. 
The motherboard looked like a warehouse, storing blueprints and bullet point-filled cork boards, whiteboards only half cleaned, couches, coffee tables, a couple TV screens overlooking the main plaza, circus, and mansion where Ink’s fathers and siblings lived. It was obvious that through thick and thin, this universe was a well cared for outlier in comparison to the neglect all the others had gone through.
Knowing all this sooner would have made Error’s job so much easier in the past, but now that he’s thinking about this in the current day, any kind of prideful satisfaction the younger him would have gotten was nonexistent. Instead, the destroyer could only define one thing he felt from staring at the larger picture for so long.
Pity.
But of course, only Ink’s family would have given enough of a damn about their home to keep it this vibrant and alive, efficiently and effectively meeting the needs and wants of the characters inhabiting this universe.
It’s almost like being caretakers was a common theme in Ink’s family, and Error definitely didn’t fit the part. He didn’t even understand why he found this revelation so intriguing. It was unsettling, but Error had already been unsettled since before Ink made the portal.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, like they were being watched.
“I can’t find it,” Error set down the couch he had lifted and flopped on top of it. Since Gaster and Aster were still around and thriving, what was the point of going through this universe’s code? They probably had already thought of something to keep every creation of theirs protected.
“Maybe we should leave; take our chances looking for Dream without them.”
Ink shook his head, but didn’t look his friend in the eye and fiddled with the empty vials on his sash. It didn’t take rocket science for Error to tell he was anxious. The artist had been nothing short of distressed this entire time, both with and without sufficient doses of his paints.
“I can’t do that, Error, I need– I just need to see my dads, man. Maybe they don’t know what’s going on. I mean, they barely get out as is…”
“So what makes you think they’d know what to do?” Error sat up, grabbing a pillow and squeezing it, venting his frustration little by little into the carefully embroidered floral design in the fabric. “You just said they don’t leave as much. They don’t know the multiverse like we do.”
“Yeah, I know that, it’s just–... They’re creators, Error. They have access to some influence over all universes that we don’t!”
“So did XGaster, and look at what happened to him.”
Whatever train of thought Ink was trying so hard to uplift might as well have just crashed and exploded into a trillion pieces. The artist’s hands dropped from their sash, and they didn’t do much aside from stare at the floor. Right. Him. How could he forget?
“XGaster had… ambitions, I guess, but asking any help out of him would’ve been like pulling chicken’s teeth. Impossible,” Ink started. “I don’t really… know where that guy went either.”
“Oh, he's as good as dead,” Error’s tone lightened, using one of his arms to cushion his head and pulled a thread out of his eyesocket with the free one to fiddle with.
“Last I heard, he got killed by his own creations! If only I could’ve seen it myself, but when I went to XTale for any kind of entertainment, nothing was left.”
“Really?” Ink looked up, eyes wide. “Nothing left?”
“Nada!” Error twirled the string around his index finger, grinning to himself in amusement. “If anything did survive, maybe Dream or that BUG Core!Frisk got to them first.”
Maybe Ink should check the Omega Timeline for them later. He slightly recalled the XTale inhabitants primarily having a black and white color palette for their clothing, but because he had to juggle an overabundance of creators around the same time that AU was active, it’s not like he could go out of his way to give it any special attention.
Oh, how the tables have turned since then.
“Well if you don’t want to go, that’s okay, but I really want to.” Ink reached back for Broomie, but then the motherboard shifted. 
The both of them froze immediately, then whipped around to stare at each other. Ink cleared his throat and slowly took down his hand.
“Did uh… Error, did you do something?”
“You think I’d be quiet if I did???”
“Good point, good point…”
Suddenly, there were teal strings that quickly ripped through the ground beneath Ink in the shape of an ‘x’, the air was rushing towards the strange hole they made, dragging the artist with it. Error used his own string to ground himself as he grabbed Ink’s hand. The rushing air was unrelenting as if it was demanding Ink be dragged into whatever hell it had in waiting. Error could see that the window frame his string was tied to was starting to break, forcing him to make a choice.
Either he let go of Ink, or he went with them.
He undid the string and they both were dragged in.
The portal was unlike anything they had ever seen. It was like an endless hole of cubes that made reality. He could sense it was like the Anti-Void, but also not. This was nothing like his home, but it had the same energy as it. When they finally crashed into the ground, it was as if they had fallen off of a twelve story skyscraper.
As Error got up, he saw the ground was blocky and uneven, as if it was destroyed, remade and re-destroyed endlessly, glitching out like some awful video game that had been both incomplete and re-coded constantly.
He looked over to Ink who was rubbing his head and popping his neck, the impact obviously still affecting him somewhat.
Then he heard it.
A glitch-filled laugh.
“Really? I thought I was doin’ yous a favor ‘ere,” said the voice.
How the fuck did Ink mistake that guy for him? Color him insulted to the highest degree.
The glitch barely looked anything like him! In fact, there were more differences than there were similarities. The most prominent thing was the hood of the jacket. It was easily comparable to a large lion’s mane, almost like Mufasa got skinned after everyone left. Bright golden fur was so long that it reached the glitch’s knees. The jacket was black and lined with neon blue but also had teal diamond markings, showing where it had been resown together on the sleeves. Even his shorts had the same markings. He wore a dark maroon turtleneck and a gold and gray-indigo vest over it. There was also an odd neon blue animal skull on the side of the jacket, right below where the hood started. He also carried a similar colored sickle with a golden chain wrapped around his waist. Another thing was his left eyelight. It had the shape of an ‘x’ with several rings around it.
He didn’t even wear his Papyrus’ scarf.
If he did, then Error would at the very least believe Ink had some reason to mistake them for Geno. But no. Their stupidity truly outweighed the odds.
Maybe he should lend Ink his glasses sometime.
“Really, Error?” asked the glitch, “Yous just had ta follow tha idiot ‘ere?”
“And what’s it to you, of all anomalies?” Error himself straightened his posture, already reaching up to his eyesockets for more strings. In the corner of his vision, Ink was already on their feet, their grip on Broomie firm and ready for a fight.
“Oh nothin’,” the glitch hummed, he touched the corners of his own eyesockets but instead of summoning strings like the way Error himself did, they did come, but rather they stood straight like claws, “I was just gonna take ‘im out for ya as a little practice run for when I have ta put up wit’ an idiot of my own.”
Error heard Ink suck in a breath, the artist inching closer to him. Something about this new guy pissed him off beyond what he considered the normal annoyance, which is what every other anomaly had become to him these days.
But no. As far as the destroyer was concerned, this fucker’s intentions were clear.
He wanted to take his place. That very thought on its own made his marrow boil, his teeth baring to match his growing hatred.
“I see what you’re putting on the table, and my answer is FUCK NO.”
“Really think ya had a choice in dis?” the glitch asked when suddenly two large blocks of the land suddenly appeared and collided with Ink from two different sides. Sandwiching him before two teal strings cut right through them. “I was merely tellin’ yous what was about ta happen.”
Ink rematerialized next to Error, a portal painted below him. Broomie’s length was already chopped in half, and the artist’s hands were sporting new cuts, spewing his namesake out from between the joints, a stark contrast to the pristine white Error expected to see every time.
The guardian of the AUs blinked several times, his eyelights spinning several shades of red in different shapes before settling on a triangle and a target symbol.
“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR!? THAT WAS A TOTAL SUCKER PUNCH!!!”
“Awes, ya pretendin’ ta be mad at lil’ ol’ me…” the glitch cooed, calmly walking off to the side, not really paying much attention to them. This was his domain, and it was clear he was beyond comfortable and confident here. “It’s real cute that ya pretend ta have emotions, Inky-boy. But ya really shouldn’t be playin’ wit’ people’s emotions, things can get real messy.”
The other error’s new target opened his mouth to interrupt, but then shut it, the accusation taking him off guard.
“What…? I don’t do that!”
“Suuure ya don’t. Like the way ya don’t treat everyone around ya, like they ain’t people? Like they’re jus’ some characters in a book that ya can interfere wit’, o’ watch dem struggle in tha misery planned fo’ em. Like tha way you don’t see me an’ Error as people?” the copy-cat stated, he checked his claws for a second and shrugged. He paused and looked directly at Ink, “Ya only go around an’ play hero, an don’t even care if dey get killed off anyways. Horrortale, Somethin’ New, Dusttale, or the otha AUs’ my friends are from. Ya don’ care about anyone or anythin’ but ya own entertainment.”
Error squinted bullets at the other, his freakish New York accent was getting annoying, and really fucking quick too. He’s sounding a hell of a lot like Nightmare with all that YAPPING.
“Ink, he’s fucking with you.”
Ink went to answer, but nothing he could possibly say came to mind. He wasn’t guilty of whatever the Error-copy was getting at, at least currently, he was free from it, but where the hell did he get that information? Why use it against them now? Was their decision and work to change completely ignored?
Error shifted, looking at his friend from the very edge of his vision.
“Ink?”
“I know he’s fucking with me! I want to know why.”
“Am I now?” the glitch snickered, “Ink, can ya really say I’m lyin’ ‘ere? I mean, let’s look at yer history! Tha moment yous get bored wit’ an AU your first tactic is ta ignore it like a child does wit’ a toy they’ve grown tired of, an’ if it still ain’t entertainin’ enough you let it destroy itself. Isn’t that why ya let Error run around? Yous was bored with Underswap an’ so ya let him keep that Swap!Sans around and let him do whatever he wanted?”
“Hey- HEY- NO, YOU THINK I KNEW WHAT HE DID TO BLUE??” Realizing what had happened to his friend had devastated Ink back then, almost to the point he genuinely thought of killing Error like Blue already tried. Where the fuck did this guy get off on assuming he didn’t care!?
“No, but yous expected it.” the glitch frowned, “I mean, yous had every opportunity ta stop ‘im before an’ after. But instead, ya just ran off wit’ tha rest of tha AU, replaced ‘im tha first chance ya got because ya realized far too late that tha poor guy was too far gone. I mean, it’s not like ya leave Error alive because ya like him. Ya don’t even actually feel anythin’. If ya did then… well yous a shit friend. Constantly leavin’ ya friends ta die in horrific ways, be it a Killer bein toyed with by Nightmare, Error ‘imself destroyin their AUs, Horrortales being allowed ta exist, leavin Dream ta get shot by Edelweiss– Oh…” he grinned as he feigned it as a ‘slip of the tongue’, “Oh right… Ol’ Dreamy gettin shot and put on life-support. And yous… yous was nowhere ta be found! Talk about carin’ ‘bout yer friends!”
“I DIDN’T KNOW ANY OF THAT UNTIL CURRENTLY, I–” Ink’s ribcage rattled, an indication of his frustration, which would only continue to spike to higher heights as their opponent kept talking.
Before Error could catch onto what the artist planned next, Ink was already gone, having summoned a gray and black gaster blaster and shot after the other error.
Error raced after him, letting his strings fly to as many lengths as possible, mainly in hope of grabbing his friend and dragging him back, but Ink had a head start and was too far ahead than what the glitch had accounted for.
Ink’s blaster wasn’t used to shoot their new adversary out of the air, but to propel him forward to fight him head-on. He did feel! His emotions were his own! And if he had known sooner what happened to Dream, he would have tracked down whoever had him themself just so they could be at his side! Whatever he needed and it was HIS!
But soon enough, the only thing Ink began to see for certain was the blind red of unrelenting rage.
“I’LL MAKE YOU EAT THOSE WORDS!”
The glitch dodged Ink in an extremely odd way, Ink just…fazed right through him. The glitch patted his body down and grumbled, “So uncivilized…”
Error almost froze when he saw the scene. The glitch destablized himself. He turned himself into a string of code.
The copy-cat used his strings to grab Ink in a near identical way he did the first time when they met. But rather, they wrapped around his joints. "Oh what's tha matta Inky boy? I was jus’ sayin' tha truth! Ya neva thought we even truly felt pain, or despair. It was only until ya really started lookin' around that you toyed wit’ dat idea, and even then... can we really trust that ya learned yer lesson? That ya see us as people? Tell me, Ink, if ya really cared, then what would ya do on instinct if I were ta... order my friend ta kill that twerp Dream? Would ya even try ta care? Or would ya sit back an’ watch tha show jus’ ta see what’ll happen?”
They didn’t even answer, summoning bucketfuls worth of ink from between their joints, materializing bones and blasters to barrage the glitch with. 
Error blasted the other’s strings, freeing Ink for only a second before they were snagged again in his own contraption of electric blue strings, yanking them back to his side as he reached out for the code to this place, only for the singular thing for Error to hit was a barrier.
The glitch swerved his blaster sideways, ducking under a floating, disembodied wall he recognized as corrupted, carefully crafted code as well, but appeared in the form of organized rubble.
“Why didn’t you hit him too, Error? He wants to hurt Dream!” Ink pulled himself up and struggled against his bindings. Error only tightened them, which served to enrage the artist further.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?”
“WE DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS, DUMBASS!” Error shot back, continuing to dodge and weave between chunks of rubble and ruin. He noticed all of them had a particular pattern, grays and whites, teals and reds, some gold here and there. It was like his prior-known ‘copy’ themed this Anti-Void after himself! 
As much as he hated other errors more than anything else, there was a certain danger that came from being in another glitch’s direct territory. Given two other errors had almost succeeded in wiping him off the census in the past, Error wasn’t about to risk his neck a third time.
“He wanted to get a rise out of you, Ink! He was manipulating you–” Error looked back as he made another turn, only to see the artist gone, and his strings cut through. 
“ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?”
“He didn’t really think dat through, did he?” asked the other glitch.
Error screamed, spinning around to face the other error, the strings hanging from his fingers and eyes whipping forward to snag a grip on him, but all their intended victim had to do to avoid them was lean backwards.
“How rude of me, I didn’t even introduce myself!” the glitch snickered, “The name is Digital Klezmer! Nice ta meetcha. Though it really don’ matta, I mean ya probably gonna die ‘ere too. Speakin’ o’ which, why’s you helpin’ that guy anyways? I thought you wanted ‘im dead.”
A gaster blaster that had the skull of some animal, maybe some sort of badger, appeared right beside Klezmer, aimed right at Error, ready to fire. Error mimicked the threat, doubling the amount of blasters on his end off the bat. His voice began to mutate, the tone fluctuating and basic voice changing dangerously. Error’s blasters fired.
“MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS!”
Klezmer’s blaster fired off its own blast but it had a secondary action, shielding Klezmer enough to escape, teleporting behind Error and sitting down on one of the pieces of blocky rubble, “Oh Error, don’ tell me dat ya think he’s ya friend! That he cares about ya!”
The fellow glitch cackled, “Oh, dat’s RICH!” He summoned several bones to impale Error, but Error summoned another blaster to take the hit, the bones going right through it before both weapons dispersed. 
Error bit his tongues. He wasn’t giving this freaking psycho more fuel to tend with. He already had more than enough to make Ink snap, and Error had to find that idiot squid before Digital Klezmer did.
He teleported back to where he and Ink were first dragged in, leaving Klezmer in the dust like he fucking deserved, only to find no sign of him there.
“IIIIINNNNNNNNNNNKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!” 
Error’s voice echoed off the Anti-Void’s floating walls and ruins, and he took to scouring the area close enough to the ‘floor’, keeping all his senses geared for any and every fucking noise that might give away the artist’s location. Ink was so fucking DEAD once he found them. He was so tempted to POP THAT LITTLE HEAD OFF THEIR MIDGET BODY AND CHUCK IT INTO THE NEAREST HOTLAND LAVAPOOL.
—----------
Klezmer sighed when he saw Error teleported away. He shook his head and teleported to a deeper part of his Anti-Void. He really wasn’t going to get an answer to that question, now was he. He knew where Ink was, but what was the fun of going after the guy directly?
Nah.
Too boring. He wanted to see them squirm.
So he settled himself in his seat at his piano and began playing one of his favorite songs, Altale. Whoever wrote that song was more insane than Katagma. It was an oddly upbeat song. But it was also oddly fitting for this little moment between the two knuckleheads he dragged here, letting their hopes rise with the song. Now all he had to do was keep playing. Sure, he was leaving himself as an ‘open target’. But who said he didn’t know everything that was going on in his own territory? Not him.
And like magic, his bait had an impressive effect, and of course it was the Inner Realm’s husk that took it the quickest.
Ink materialized next to him, and could have smacked him upside the head with what was left of his ginormous paintbrush if he didn’t dematerialize into raw code a second before.
Klezmer summoned a gaster blaster that bit down on Ink’s torso, as he spoke, “Oh buddy, I really thought ya had more brains than my husk. I really did. Thanks for correctin’ me.”
Once again, Ink didn’t answer. One of their own blasters was summoned, chomping down on Klezmer’s own and yanking it back, dislodging Ink from its grip. The artist’s namesake dripped to the floor, showing the enemy’s blaster did in fact cut through parts of his ribcage, staining his colorful clothing, but he didn’t seem to care about the weight of his own survival.
Then finally, the shortstack spoke up, his voice shaking with emotion, dominated by an overwhelming layer of rage.
“How dare you.”
They looked second to an animal, a feral beast. More ink leaked out between their barred teeth, some trails dripping from their sockets as the red of their eyelights glowed brighter.
But one look at their sash made it clear every one of their regular vials had already been drunk dry, and it was several days ago too. So the only source of this extra power could only be one thing, and Digital Klezmer already knew well.
Sketch had tried to kill Error before, when both stooges were in the Doodlesphere, and Sketch’s defeat led to the loss of its backpack. That was the only extra source of power Ink had access to.
Ink dropped Broomie, the tool useless to him and broken beyond use. Not even the bristles were in functional order anymore. Everything the artist was using now came directly from his body, from his will.
“I don’t know what hurt you this badly in the past, dude, but whatever you’re after now isn’t worth it. Seriously.”
“What I’m after isn’t worth it?” Klezmer cackled, rubbing his face under his glasses, he stopped almost as quickly as he had started, “Just die.” Two spears made of his strings appeared right from under Ink, unfurling and lifting him up to slam him down on another platform deep in the Anti-Void.
“I wanna reverse all negative creation.” Klezmer growled, “All of it! No more of dis needless sufferin’ ya view as cheap entertainment! And unfortunately I need dat useless guardian alive ta do it! Yous husks are nothin’ but a nuisance! Ya don’t feel, ya don’t care about nobody but yaselves! Hell, if yous an’ Error were ta make some stupid deal, ya’d grow bored of it instantly and jus’ find some bullshit loophole ta find somethin’ you think would be more entertainin’ ta yous and only you!”
The ribbon spears dragged the still tied up artist into a wall of the blocky rubble.
“And yous think that ya know anythin’?! I’ve watched ya long enough ta know that you’re only playin’ wit’ everyone’s emotions ‘ere! How long till ya get bored of Dream an’ Error? What about dem Swap-folk? How long till dey just bore ya? A week?! You’d probably drag a Dust over dere just for sick kicks! At least what I do is merciful, unlike yous!”
He let go of Ink to see if he’s still breathing. Letting the cloud of smoke from the destruction clear.
“Never…”
The second thing he got was a rough cough, but as the smoke cleared, Ink pulled himself back up, the ink in his body surfacing to repair the damage done to his body. Some of the artist’s clothing had been torn off, revealing tattoos that looked like random scribbles covering his lower arms and ribcage, and other discolored, gray patches of bone. The rage in their eyes didn’t subside.
“I will NEVER get bored of them. Not any one of them.”
He met Digital Klezmer’s eye, a spiteful smile gracing his face instead of the twisted snarl the glitch had plastered on it minutes ago. 
“But of course you won’t believe that, since you already profiled me based on the other guy that tried to kill my FRIEND, right? Who’s the dumbass now?”
Ink coughed again, dispensing a pool of ink at his feet as his body struggled to cope again with the amount of damage this new error wanted so badly to remain in place. This guy wasn’t at all like Error, Ink knew this now.
He was worse, really, and that was from a mostly unbiased opinion.
“I don’t care what you assume of me. I would have been devastated if it succeeded, and I would have been devastated all the same if Dream died too!”
The artist stretched his arms out, the ink creating another Broomie right in his waiting hands.
“So fuck you.”
The glitch stared at Ink, almost as though he was seeing the words Ink spoke right before him in material form. Klezmer couldn’t help but mentally compare Ink to Sketch, chuckling. “I guess you’re right. Ya ain’t nothin’ like Sketch. Unlike Sketch, ya don’t just show off your emotionlessness, or selfishness… well, not anymore… And you are right, I don’t believe you’ve changed. Whether or not you have actually started to understand tha sufferin’ of those around yous or even have a speck of empathy. But you definitely ain’t anythin’ like Sketch.”
He summoned several strings and drew them back from a ring that circled them like a giant slingshot.
“Dis… might sting a bit.”
He let go. The makeshift arrow shot right through Ink, impaling him straight through the sternum and the vertebrae leading behind it, but before Klezmer could do anything more with it, a blast of energy snapped it into pieces at the midpoint, Error’s cobalt blue strings were flung about the immediate area, snatching Ink away.
If Ink’s rage was considered animalistic, Error’s was a different lifeform entirely. The glitch’s eyesockets were clogged with his namesake, binary code spinning in his skull like miniature supercells, collecting more and more power to properly launch the amount of destruction it considered a basic portion. The creature before the two other skeletons snarled, the glitching only amplifying the volume and distorting it beyond recognition.
It was debatable if Error could speak properly in this state, with his body barely keeping itself in one piece, but somehow he managed navigating his way all the way here from the other side of the Anti-Void. 
“yOU SHOuLD KnoW BEtteR ThAN TO BREAK mY ThINgs.”
Ink could barely tell what the fuck dragged itself by its arms out of Error’s mouth, or if it even came out of his mouth in the first place. Before he knew it, his friend began to clog the area with electric blue strings, drowning their perception of the area in wires tying them down. Ink couldn’t get a word in, his body creaking under the weight and the tightness of what was, hopefully, a very temporary prison.
The sounds outside were muted to him, but he could figure they were fighting out there.
“--- .... / .-. . .- .-.. .-.. -.--?” Klezmer didn’t even open his mouth, rather the sound – the morse code just emanated from him. He didn’t seem to be shocked, rather his reaction was one that showed he knew what it was like to be in the very state Error was in.
He didn’t even struggle against the strings, rather he destablized himself and kept moving. Now he was the one on the run. Whether or not he had expected it was unknown.
Error pursued him immediately, blasting through entire walls of code that blocked his way. If he was saying anything, emitting any noise at all, it was unintelligible to him. Meaningless. 
He used to destroy everything he hated to fuel his will to live, including minor glitches distantly related to the monstrosity he truly was. But at the same time, none of it made sense. None of the semantics surrounding his past were important. Only the anomaly attempting escape before his eyes, destabilized code bunched together in a being that only knew suffering and grief, abandonment and anger.
So much like him but at the same time so, so different.
It was PATHETIC.
The entity let out a deafening roar behind Klezmer, causing the code closest to him to glitch out momentarily, then proceed to function as it was a second after.
Of course, not all gods went through life unchallenged. There were rules to the madness they shared and pain they carried. Rules not even they understood clear as crystal. 
Klezmer used one of his strings to create a portal only for himself, a split second to get far from Error and to a higher ground, where he made hundreds of spears of his strings and even fractured bones. All with their own rings of strings like crossbows, all aimed at Error. With a golden smirk, he let them loose, each one doing thrice the amount of damage they did to Ink. All the while he made a crossbow for himself. One he could wield. But this one wouldn’t shoot a spear or bone. Rather the sickle’s chain that was previously tied to his waist and now having a small sharp knife made of his strings to ensure it went right through his target.
“Didn’t think I’d ‘ave ta use dis…” he mumbled to himself. “But color me surprised… bastard got a bigger temper ‘dan Wiess.”
There was a click in the Anti-Void as the hurricane of projectiles chased their target, just a shift in the layout code, like something just went missing. 
Then, it was like the ‘ceiling’ grew a corn maze of red bones, stretching half a horizon across the new, demented plaza, connected to a million more blue strings. The ground shook with another haunting scream, and the source of the challenge pulled down the floodgates right behind Klezmer’s projectiles, snapping some in two every which way, cracking down on the ‘floor’ and disembodied walls, splitting some into smaller chunks than they were initially. Dust and grime filled the atmosphere, blocking a clear shot of wherever the target was.
Laughter without a direct source echoed off of what remained of the walls around them, morphing the acoustics and Klezmer couldn’t help but laugh alongside Error. He took aim with his crossbow as several portals opened up with more shots of the crossbow-spears and bones.
He saw the game Error was playing and he’d happily play along, but this was his domain, not Error’s. Thus, he knew every inch Error ran through. Every spot he paused. Every weak point. And thus, he fired the chain. With a rattling sound, it took off and the strings extended and extended further and farther than it would’ve otherwise, dragging the blade with it right towards Error’s soul.
The sickle wasn’t anything that the two idiots had ever faced. It was an Outer Realms specialty. A weapon that specifically did True Damage. There were specific damage types in the Outer Realms, and True Damage was a specialty that Klezmer had thanks to the weapon, specifically only the weapon really. It could bypass all resistances, all armor and specifically target the soul of the opponent, even going as far as latching onto it if the opponent could survive the attack. Meaning that they’d have the weapon stuck onto their soul and out for Klezmer to attack directly. It almost felt like cheating, but it wasn’t his fault someone was stupid enough to stand still long enough to get hit by it.
—------------
Ink made progress centimeter by centimeter, trying to ignore the sound of destruction, screams, and even more destruction. He thought back to the decay of Underfell, the compounding collapse of reality itself before everything imploded into white. Pure white.
He shivered and pressed on, cutting more divots into his bones in the process so more ink could join with the ‘floor’ underneath him.
Then came Error’s roar, the ring of the sound breaking his nonexistent ears, and then the ‘ground’ rumbled. Ink felt something slip under them, and the cocoon around them loosened, but not by much. They were a sitting duck like this, and whether Error wanted his help or not, Ink was convinced he’d die out there.
He had gotten an odd feeling this other Error was vastly more powerful than initially given credit when he was dragged kicking and screaming into this version of the Anti-Void, He didn’t know whether it had an actual name aside from that, but it’s not like they could afford to care, not when so much was at stake.
He wanted them both dead. He made that message abundantly clear.
Ink felt the hole in his sternum and vertebrae mend, and he could finally dematerialize enough to slip through the dozens of layers of strings that bound him. They knew they were getting weaker, having lost more paint than any other fight they could recall, and the migraine had come pounding in when he was dragged in this place too.
Error was right. They really didn’t have the position to fight in confidence here, but they doubted his impostor was manipulating either of them. The things he screamed several minutes ago were in complete confidence and backed with indescribable pain.
Think, Ink, think!
The ground rumbled again, knocking Ink back down in a pool of his own fluids. Another scream, and in the distance, he spotted one of the biggest walls in the area come crashing down, glitching back into the air in far more pieces than it started out as.
Summoning a gaster blaster, Ink jumped on its head and sped his way towards the ensuing fight, ripping off a lock of Error’s abandoned string as they zoomed by.
—-------------
Pain was the one thing Error knew best, but this was too much in one sitting. The glitch ripped out one of the stupid arrows that managed to snag him and snapped it in half, not bothering to watch the material crumble as he went to tend to another spot right next to it.
No matter how much his STATs fluctuated, flying up and down the border of 0 HP and MAXED HP to cope with the sheer amount of stress he just put his body through, Error felt it wouldn’t heal as quickly as he wanted it to, and it was just his luck that his sight cleared just enough before Klezmer pelted him with another barrage of projectiles, overloading his body.
He didn’t want to die like this, but begging was so far out of bounds of the question at hand that it was practically nonexistent, even as Klezmer shot another attack right at him, one the blur of his vision could not keep up with, not even if it were slowed down to fit his needs. 
It was gold. Thin and gold and probably heavy, but boy did it look ugly either way.
It was already too late when Error finally registered the real weight of what was to come, if it were even possible for him. The glitch jolted backwards, a wildfire of agony igniting his body in response to its inability to move and its broken down state.
Then a dark blue blur of his own strings shot its way across his vision, wrapping around the attack. Ink entered the edge of Error’s sight, tugging the chain in his direction, ending up in pieces.
It happened far too quickly for anyone to truly realize what exactly the situation was. The crunching of bone or the splatter of thick globules of ink splashing on the destroyed ground. The most that the two glitches got was the horror on Error’s face and sheer shock on Klezmer’s own, but the thud of the body was heard and the moment the black and gray gaster blaster turned to a pool of ink in an attempt to save its master.
In that moment the two glitches realized exactly what had happened.
Ink had jumped in front of the attack to protect Error, sacrificing himself to the blade of the sickle.
“INK!”
Error jumped and tried to catch Ink but barely made it in time, catching Ink’s husk in mere centimeters before it hit the ground – if one could call it that, considering it still somewhat did. Ink’s husk was flayed, sliced clean in half, only leaving behind the rib cage and up. The last bits of ink from the blaster served itself to heal its master as much as it could but it wouldn’t reawaken him.
“Nononononononono—” Error’s glitching getting worse and far more unstable the more he spoke.
All the while Klezmer couldn’t comprehend the sight before him.
Ink had jumped in front of a fatal shot just to save someone that wasn’t himself.
He didn’t even dare speak. But all he could do was mentally argue with himself to try to comprehend the situation and what to do about it. He took a long deep breath and tore open a portal, bringing his chain back to himself.
“I’m gonna regret dis later, I jus’ know it.” he thought to himself. Out of the portal he got a vial of mixed oil paints.
Carefully he walked over to the fellow glitch, placed the vial and used a string to teleport Error, the vial, and the husk out of the Anti-Void without issues. He stood alone for a moment before sitting down at his piano and played a song he had received from Katagma who got it from some random game… something called Laura Plays the Piano. Whatever game it was, he was told it was depressing.
As if…
As he played though, he couldn’t get the image of Ink jumping in front of the sickle out of his mind. No, emotionless husk would do that. Sketch wouldn’t do it even if someone paid him.
No. That Ink did feel. And he felt a lot. He stopped playing and sighed, “Yeah… fuck me. I am tha dumbass ‘ere, I suppose.”
—------------
His soul raced a million miles a second, a trillion miles a zeptosecond, and no matter what Error said or how much he screamed, the body in his hands didn’t respond or move. Not an inch. Not a millimeter. Nothing.
And even then, as far as Error was concerned, nothing outside of him and what used to be Ink mattered. 
The multiverse could burn.
It was like Error’s vision was set ablaze itself, both with glitches and tears he never thought he’d cry again, those blue-transparent pearls landing on Ink’s face, brushing away bits of their namesake, their blood. 
Error felt the ground below them change to something softer, and air clearer, holding the weight of life, but what use was it if his friend wasn’t here? The one person who bothered to spend time and energy on him since they met, regardless of how destructive his behavior was by itself, was doomed, and the glitch knew exactly why.
Ink was low on paints, their literal fucking lifeforce, but he would have rather died instead of him, even if he didn’t truly understand how hard he’d be hit, or how many pieces their little body would end up in. 
The destroyer’s vision began to black out, and Error heard the crunching of grass up ahead of them. 
Danger. Danger. DANGER. He came to finish the job.
“G-GET AWAY FROM US— I’M WARNING YOU!!!”
The figure in the distance was colossal, bearing the slight reflection of light glasses would get from the sun at just the right angle, and it was just tall enough to be the threat at hand. It hesitated, then continued with another step forward, its voice ringing in and out of Error’s fried senses.
“Hell–..-? A|3 y0– 0;ay…—-?”
Its shape muddled further, the darkness closing in. Error knew he summoned something, some degree of magic in an attempt to scare them off, but he didn’t get to witness the result.
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geometricgiovanni · 9 months ago
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YOU ARE NOW A PRETTY PRINCESS! ✨
This blog contains references to threats and violence. You have been warned.
(hey guys cool sexy man here to tell you first half is in-character, second half under cut is out-of-character)
HELLO! I MADE THIS ACCOUNT OUT OF SPITE OF THAT DISGUSTING THING THAT PLAGUES THIS GOD-FORSAKEN SITE!
NO, DON'T ASK ME ABOUT IT. IF YOU DO, I WILL CRUSH YOU! LETHALLY. You will feel pain. also he blocked me on all 8 of my accounts so um, y'know........
ASK ME THINGS! ASK ME TO DESCRIBE IN EXCRUCIATING DETAIL ASPECTS OF MY LIFE! ASK ME TO DO OBSCURE ACTIVIES THAT WOULD SEVER MY LIMBS IF I HAD ANY!
So here's some info in a similar format to my other blog, some things, such as boundaries, will be copied and pasted:
Blog Information✨
This is an ask/rp blog for Jeremy from regretevator, specifically the Jeremy referenced in @displ3azant. I might use this blog to more freely talk about my specific headcanons about characters from the perspective of an outsider, so that account is likely the only specific one referenced on this blog.
Jeremy in this blog uses he/any!
MAIN TAGS:
#geometric asks - Asks
#geometric posts - Non-ask related posts/reblogs
#ooc - Out-of-character post
BLOG OWNER 🔥
Hello! I am Hex! Yes, you will see me talking to myself! No, do not comment on it. Please refer to me using he/him or it/its pronouns.
My other accounts are: @hexexists - my main blog, if you receive notifications from this account, please know it is just me! @hexational - my regretevator blog @displ3azant - afformentioned Unpleasant rp blog
I'll try to respond to most asks with a drawing of some variety, and if it's something I can use to reveal little ass-shit and bull-dumps about my version of Jeremy.
Please note, however, I am not just one singular guy but also a senior who should really be spending his free time studying, so sometimes I will just give a text response.
Also to note: I am 17 years old, therefore a minor! Even if I was not a minor, I am still not comfortable with weird shit! Keep it in your fucking pants, asshole! Apologies if I sound rude, but holy shit the only blog gets SO many weird asks! I will just be blocking and ignoring any freaky anons, apologies if you are my friend trying to mess with me, but I genuinely cannot take any more risks.
Boundaries ✨
Shipping content: Shipping content is okay, but I don't care much for romance personally and so will likely not play much into it. Please don't push anything, I guess, and nothing that promotes proshipping or any kind of literally illegal pairing. If you dislike any direction taken ship-wise for this blog, then block me and move on with your day.
NSFW content: NSFW CONTENT IS NOT ALLOWED. I am a minor. Thx. Also, "suggestive" jokes are very selectively okay. Basically, if it makes me uncomfortable or is literally disgusting, it will be ignored and likely deleted, and I will probably make fun of you.
Roleplaying: I am totally okay with roleplaying and sending/responding to asks in character!
(ps: i'm also happy to rp with other regretevator ocs too, i think those r super duper cool)
That's all, really.
your mortal enemy,
-Hex
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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 2 years ago
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Snowed In
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Masterlist
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A/N: Alright, don't know why I had this idea or why every last one of my ideas has to grow into 5k words, but have some Mike!
Pairing: Mike (Hellraiser) x reader (you)
Summary: You were going to spend the weekend at your dad's cabin in the woods with your boyfriend, but he bails on you and leaves you - quite literally - out in the cold. Good thing your best friend's brother shows up...
Word count: 5.3k
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, SMUT, MINORS DNI. First time p-in-v sex, oral (m receiving), Mike being an idiot. Some uncomfortable, awkward mentions of teen feelings. Y'know.
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@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @keanureevesisbae @fvckinghenrycavill @ellethespaceunicorn @peaches1958 @sillyrabbit81 @peyton-warren
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You’d stolen the keys to the cabin years ago, and you were fairly sure your dad had no idea you owned copies, because if he did, you’d have been grounded for that - possibly until your fortieth birthday.
Your best friend is covering for you, there is a bag of snacks and other necessities on the seat next to you, and you are facing the prospect of a romantic weekend with your boyfriend. What could possibly go wrong?
A breakup text after you’ve spent three hours waiting anxiously for him to arrive? Yeah, that'll do it. Now, you’re sitting on the couch in the small cabin, freezing because you can’t start a fire, and crying because you were dumped through a text on the night you were finally going to give it up. Honestly, you’re glad he broke it off before you were able to make that mistake.
Tears are hot on your cold cheeks, and you grab another blanket, but it doesn’t help. Getting dumped and freezing to death seems like a very harsh punishment for sneaking out, really, but it’s slowly becoming a viable threat.
When someone sticks a key in the lock of the door, you almost faint. No one is supposed to be here this weekend. Your dad is out of town on business, your mom doesn’t come here alone... A murderer probably wouldn’t have the keys. Right? On a whim, you turn off the lights and hide behind the couch right before the door swings open.
“Huh? Thought I saw the lights on?” The voice is familiar, but you can’t put a finger on it. “Uncle Walt?” Oh no. No, no, no. There’s only one person in the world who calls your dad that, and it’s Mikey.
Mike Salvatore – the brother of Bianca Salvatore, who just so happens to be your best friend – has been a pain in your ass for as long as you can remember. His dad is a friend of your dad’s, which meant you and Bianca grew up together, and you got to deal with her annoying older brother for free. How fun.
Mike steps inside and turns the lights on.  “I can see someone’s in here, I’d really like to know who it is.”
“It’s, eh...” You crawl out from behind the couch. “Me. Hi. What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same damn thing. At least I got the keys from your dad.” He sounds upset, and although you can’t quite figure out why, you assume it must have something to do with the fact that you’re in the way of him having a quiet night here by himself. If he didn’t have the same idea as you, that is.
“Oh, I’m just here, freshly dumped on what should have been an awesome weekend with my boyfriend. Never fucking mind me, Mike.” There’s no pretending, no holding back tears, no nothing. Because it doesn’t matter. You’ve been caught, Mike is definitely going to snitch on you. You’re sad and single, you’re freezing and you’re going to be so, so dead.
“I’ll just go.” You try to squeeze past him, but he stops you.
“It’s dark out. I wouldn’t let you drive home even if it was an option.” He sounds so serious...
“What do you mean ‘if it was an option’?” Why isn’t it an option now?
“Sorry, Sweetcheeks, we’re snowed in...” Snowed in? Snowed in? Never in a million years... You stare at Mike, and it takes a while before you realize that your mouth is open. “... so even if it wasn’t dark, and you weren’t upset, we’d still be stuck here.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” you cry out, and more tears stream down your face.
“Is there any reason these tears are practically freezing to your cheeks? Are you trying to kill yourself? Because I’m not on board with that, just so you know.” Mike tries to play it off as a joke, but you can see the concern in his eyes.
“Couldn’t start a fire,” you say. For the first time, you realize your teeth are chattering.
“Alright, let’s get that settled first, or else both of us are going to die of hypothermia.” He walks over to the fireplace and laughs when he sees your latest failed attempt at lighting it. “Damn, Sweetcheeks, it’s a good thing I showed up.”
He takes a pocket knife out of his bag and shaves a bunch of thin slivers off the block of wood you had laying in the ashes.
“Grab that basket, would you?” The basket he’s referring to is filled with sticks. “Come here, sit down.”
“Why am I sitting here? I should just stay out of your way.”
“Babygirl, you would have frozen to death if I hadn’t gotten here. You’re learning how to make a fire. Now.” Alright, that does sound like a useful survival skill, now more than ever. And so does ‘breathing normally’, but you can’t seem to remember how to do that, either. Your heart is racing, and you’re past the point of chalking that up to the cold, because it wasn’t nearly as bad before Mikey got here…
“How did you learn?” You ask mostly to distract yourself from your racing pulse and dry mouth. Mikey wasn’t exactly the boy scout type. He was just the annoying older brother type, nothing more, nothing less.
Nothing more. Nothing less. Right?
“I’m a man.” You fight back the urge to snort. That’s a major overstatement. After all, you’re talking about Mikey. Immature, goofy, stupid, dumb, cute– wait, what? “But before I grew up, I was a boy, and they like to set stuff on fire. So, their dads teach them how to do that without burning the house down, and the world is a better place because of it.”
“You never grew up, Mikey, you only got taller.” And somewhere around the time you turned fifteen, he magically got hotter. But that’s not relevant right now, even though it’s fairly hard to ignore now that he’s so close to you.
“Yeah, I have to annoy my baby sister and her cute little friend somehow, right?” Did Mike just call you ‘cute’? You decide not to dwell on it, and instead pay attention to what he has to say. “Alright, fire needs three things: fuel, oxygen, heat. If one of those is not accounted for…” He makes a general gesture at the fireless fireplace.
A few minutes of his slightly condescending explanation later, Mike has actually managed to get a nice fire going. He fills up the kettle with water after ordering you to stay put. You don’t complain; it’s still cold as balls.
“Can I get in on this blanket situation you have going on?” he asks as he sits down next to you. “You kinda took all of them, and I’m gonna get cold, too.” You carefully peel off one blanket-layer and hand it to him.
The tea is hot, the blankets are soft, and the small room is slowly getting warmer. It gets to a point where you slowly unwrap yourself from your carefully constructed cocoon.
“Don’t,” Mike says, “your lips are still blue.” You can only assume he wraps his arms around you without thinking, because… Well, because Mike does most things without thinking, for starters, and because he wouldn’t have done it if he was thinking clearly. Probably.
“Mike, what the hell were you planning on doing here?” you ask. You’re ashamed to think that if you can hear how hoarse your voice is when you say it, Mike can definitely hear, too. And then there’s the thing about not really wanting to find out the answer.
“Eh… There was this chick. She, eh… She bailed on me, but I was halfway here and didn’t feel like turning around.” Is there something in his voice that sounds like he’s lying? Or are your ears deceiving you? Either way… It hurts like a bitch. Which makes no sense because Mike is obnoxious, annoying, gross, and immature.
“Sorry I’m the sucky little stand-in,” you say sarcastically. What you didn’t expect was Mike putting his hands on your cheeks.
“Sucky little stand-in, my ass,” he says, “and get me the name of this guy.”
“You know him,” you say. Mike’s been playing soccer with the guy since they were freshmen in high school.
“Ryan. And you were going to sleep with him.” It’s definitely not a question, but you’re not entirely sure what else it’s supposed to be. The tone in Mike’s voice suggests it’s almost an accusation. “Yeah, don’t say anything, that face is all I need. Fuck, I’m so glad he didn’t show up, baby girl.” His hands fall away from your face, and he wraps you up in a massive hug.
The rest of the night is marshmallows, popcorn, snacks, and games. You never spend time alone with Mikey, it’s weird at first, but you get used to it quickly. Mike is easy to talk to, when he’s not being the annoying older brother. Time goes by fast, and it’s getting kind of late. At some point, you realize that neither of you have really thought about sleeping arrangements.
“You take the bed, I’ll take the couch,” Mike says resolutely, but it doesn’t sit right with you.
“No, it’s okay! I’m a less terrible fit for that couch,” you reply, “you can take the bed.” Mike thinks about that for a second. It’s not a big couch, you’re going to have to curl up enough as is, and Mikey is definitely taller than you. Then he makes a suggestion that makes your heart skip a beat.
“It’s a double bed,” he says, “we could just…” The living room is toasty warm due to the fire, that’s why your cheeks feel hot. Because of the fire. Maybe if you tell yourself that enough times, you will start to believe it.
After some more back and forth on the subject of who deserves to sleep where, you end up in bed together. Mike is clearly more relaxed about the whole thing than you are; you’ve maneuvered yourself as closely to the edge of the bed as possible.
“Would you relax?” Mike chuckles behind you. “We’ve known each other for, what? Fifteen years?” Yeah, that sounds about right.
“But you’re Bianca’s stupid older brother,” you say – out loud, what is wrong with you?
“Yeah, I am,” he admits, “which is exactly why you don’t have to be so… uptight, right now.” Is that his way of saying nothing is going to happen? And why does that sting so bad, for crying out loud? You turn around, so you’re facing him, and if it weren’t for Mike’s incredible reflexes, you’d have fallen out of bed.
“Thanks,” you mutter. “Can I ask you something?” It’s a stupid question; you can always ask Mike anything, you always could.
“Why are you so glad Ryan bailed on me?” Mike laughs when he hears your question, and sighs. As far as Mike is concerned, Ryan isn’t the right guy for you. He’s too much of a player.
“Takes one to know one, right?” you throw back at him.
“Yeah. Well... I don’t have a double-digit body count, he does.” Mike growls. “There’s… some… overlap. Y’know, between the girls he… and the ones I… The… reviews aren’t good, okay. And… And I just don’t want him near you.” The way he’s shy, talking about this all of a sudden, it’s so cute it melts your brain. Thinking Straight? We don’t know her.
“So, what? You’re saying you’d be a better option?” That stupid, stupid, big fucking mouth of yours… You never should have come here. You never should have agreed to sleep in the same bed. All of this could have been avoided if only you’d used your dumb brain. Apparently, Mike disagrees, because he moves closer, pulling you in as he does, until you’re flush against his body.
“I’m saying great white shark would be a better option,” he whispers. He’s so close now that you can feel his breath on your cheeks.
“I feel you’re a step up from a great white,” you mutter, “maybe even more than one.” Where is this coming from? Are you flirting with him? You’re comparing him to a shark. That can’t be flirting – or at the very m it’s incredibly poor flirting. But he’s the one who brought up the shark thing. Maybe neither of you are very good at this?
Mike laughs and mutters a ‘thank you’.
“Turn around, Sweetcheeks,” he says softly, and you hum a sort of question that he seems to understand. “Let me snug up to you, keep you warm tonight, okay?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mikey,” you whisper, shifting uncomfortably. When Mike wrapped you into that hug, you didn’t notice his hand: It’s dangerously close to your ass. Strong fingers flex against you, digging into you, making you shiver. Your own arm, which has been pushing against his shoulder up until now, slides to his back, and you lean your head against his chest.
For a few minutes, you just rake your fingers over his back while he does the same to you, pulling each other closer as you go. It’s tough to ignore the erection pressing into your thigh, so you don’t bother. It’s not as if you’re doing anything wrong. Besides, you can still stop this. As long as you don’t turn your face to his, nothing more has to happen. Then why the fuck do you turn your head?
It’s no use trying to figure out who kissed who first, but from the moment his lips touch yours, you’re lost in him. A soft first kiss soon turns intense and demanding. Mike has a very eager tongue – you should have seen that coming – and is completely incapable of keeping his hands in decent places. All you hear are the moans that escape you both, and the sound of your blood rushing in your ears. You clench your thighs every time Mike grinds his hips into you. Should you be this wet? It’s not just from this, but from everything. The hugs by the fire. Small touches while playing games. The way his hand briefly brushed past your thigh when... God, you forgot what he was even doing when that happened, but just the thought of the way his fingers caressed your skin fuels the fire inside you.
He rolls on top of you, the weight of his body making you gasp, and you make room for him between your legs. If there was still a way back, it’s definitely gone now that his cock is pressed against your pussy. You even wrap your legs around him and pull him closer. Mike chuckles under his breath, bringing up insecurities you didn’t know you had.
“What?” You ask timidly. Mike smirks at you and leans his forehead against yours.
“You’re cute like this,” he says. There’s something gravelly in his voice that seems to vibrate throughout your body.
“Like what?” You surprise yourself with how steady your voice is.
“Horny,” Mike answers plainly. You should have expected bluntness – it’s Mikey, after all – but you didn’t, and now you have nothing else to say. He smirks at you as he lies next to you again. “Bet you’re wet as fuck, too, huh?”
“Mikey!” You slap him on the shoulder and try to turn away, but he holds you firmly in place.
“Oh no, Sweetcheeks,” he says, “you’re not going anywhere.” Hearing the need in his voice sends shivers all through your body. You squirm in his arms in desperation, your cheeks hot with embarrassment because of what he said, but there’s no part of you that even considers actually trying to get away from him. You like this coy little cat and mouse game. Mike’s hand travels down your stomach and into your pajama pants and underwear without hesitation. His eagerness startles you – so does the fact that you don’t try to stop him.
One of his fingers slips between your folds, and he smirks.
“Goddamn, Sweetcheeks,” he says before kissing your neck. You moan when the stubble on his jaw scratches your skin. Suddenly, a memory makes you laugh. Mike quirks an eyebrow as his fingers retreat slightly – you can’t blame him; this is not an appropriate time to laugh.
“I’m sorry,” you chuckle, “memories.”
“Of that time you made me cut my face while shaving?” Pff! Lucky guess! Your eyes confirm his suspicion, and he chuckles, too. “My date that night felt really bad for me, so thanks, I guess.”
“What even startled you?” He’d seen you barge into the bathroom he and Bianca shared countless times at that point, so what was different that time?
“You and Bibi had just gotten back from summer camp; I hadn’t seen you in a few months and...” His voice trails off and he doesn’t seem prepared to keep talking. No dice.
“And what?” you continue your interrogation. “What changed.”
“God, Sweetcheeks, don’t make me say it! I’m gonna sound like such a perv!” He tries to bury his head in your neck, but you push back. All of a sudden, you realize the hand he had stashed in your pants, has moved to your ass. Mike groans, because he realizes you’re really going to make him answer. “You left for camp, like... Flat. And you came back kinda, sorta... fully equipped.”
“You cut yourself shaving because you were checking out my rack?” Fucking unbelievable. No, actually, scratch that. Completely believable. You laugh when you see the monstrously guilty look on his face. Mike really looks like a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
“I actually cut myself because I turned my head to look away.” Oh. Well... Mike picks up on your confusion somehow. “They were nice. But also attached to my sister’s best friend.”
“And now you’re feeling me up in my dad’s cabin in the woods.”
“A dream come true,” he laughs. Does he mean it? From the looks of it... “I mean it. I’ve had a bit of a crush on you for years.”
You can’t believe your ears! Mikey has a crush on you?
“I wish I could say the same, but I thought you were fucking annoying until a few hours ago,” you say without thinking.
Mike grins ear to ear. “Right.”
“I’m serious!” You are! You really are serious! Someone can be both annoying and hot, right?
“I believe you,” he says as he pulls you closer. “I also believe you’re more than a little hot for me now.”
He’s right – obviously. Your body is on fire, heart racing, butterflies fluttering in your stomach – all because of him. His lips on your neck confirm it, his hand squeezing your ass, slowly moving back around to work its way between your legs, his breath on your ear as he softly moans when he slips two fingers into your pussy. You want to fuck him. End of story.
“Goddamn, Sweetcheeks,” he moans into your mouth, “I might lose my patience over this juicy pussy.”
“What patience?” you tease. Mike never had much to begin with, and to be perfectly honest, yours has taken a hit to the point where you’re almost begging him to take you. His fingers slip out of you and find your clit. It’s almost impossible to focus on what his hands are doing while his cock is still pushing into your thigh, but at the same time, the way those fingers move, drawing tight circles around your swollen, sensitive little pearl consumes every fiber of your body.
“Don’t tempt me, please,” Mike groans into your ear, “I wanna do this right. You finish first.” Somehow, it never occurred to you that he’s actually trying to make you come. You give his hand the slightest nudge to the side, holding your breath for the reaction that move usually gets you, but it doesn’t happen. He just takes the advice and keeps going.
From then on, practically the only words out of your mouth are ‘fuck’ and ‘oh God’ as he works you up to your climax with surprising ease. He chuckles softly, as if he’s as surprised as you are – and in all honesty: he probably is. It takes you some time to notice the way he’s grinding his hips into your side, and you turn in his arms, forcing him to pull his hand away from your oversensitive clit. Following a deep breath, your hand trails his chest and stomach until it rests on the bulge in his pyjama pants. A cocky – pun not intended – grin appears on his face when he watches you bite your lower lip. He’s big – bigger than you’re used to, anyway. With your free hand, you push the hem of his t-shirt up until he takes over and pulls it over his head. He moans when you lick and kiss his neck, but to your surprise, he stops you when you move further down.
“Have at it if you wanna,” he says shyly, “but only if you want to. I don’t... I won’t return the favor, just... So we’re clear on that.” You’re not sure whether you’re imagining things, or if the pitch of his voice climbs as you make your way down his chest and stomach, leaving a few love bites here and there, listening to Mike groan and feeling him squirm in anticipation as if he’s never had a blowjob before in his life. He sits up, giving you more room to get as comfortable as possible, and leans back against his pillow with an impatient smirk.
You can’t suppress a chuckle when you pull Mike’s pants down and his cock springs free. It’s the way it just... moves that makes you laugh. Mike fakes looking offended and then laughs too, only to stop abruptly when your tongue touches the tip of his cock.
Teasing a guy is easy. Find out what he likes from a shockingly long list of maybe three whole things, and then do that so very lightly that he wants to grab your hair and slam his dick down your throat. Or so you’ve been told. Ryan was too impatient for you to ever try it out, but Mikey seems like a very willing victim. Every time he squirms or moans, or his leg twitches when you change your approach, you laugh softly. His fingers tangled in your hair, and he gently guides you further down onto his cock. He looks down at you and smiles like an idiot.
“Fuck, Sweetcheeks! I don’t know if this is a really good blowjob, or it’s just been a while but...” He stops talking – which is probably for the best. You lose any and all interest in his dick and sit up again.
“Mike,” you try to sound stern, but he looks so mortified that you can’t help but laugh, “what the fuck?”
“In my defense,” he says awkwardly, “there was a really pretty girl sucking my cock, therefore I wasn’t thinking. Like, at all.”
You crawl up until you’re straddling his lap and wrap your arms around his neck. Mike rests his hands on your hips and squeezes you lightly as he leans in to kiss you again. His lips all but force yours apart in their enthusiasm, and he slips his tongue into your mouth as soon as he can. Somehow, it’s the boyish impatience in everything he does that makes you fall for him even harder. It’s the eager kiss, those hands that can’t seem to be still for even a second, the moans that turn into whines whenever you move your hips…
“I can’t wait anymore,” Mike pants when he breaks your kiss, “I want you.”
Part of you wants to tell him to stop, that you don’t want him, that this was a mistake – but that part of you is a liar. You’ve wanted this for years, even Bianca knows that. She never said anything about it, and you never pushed it because Mike is her brother, and you always thought it would be super weird, but you’re never getting this chance again, and if you don’t go for it, you know you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. That realization makes it all the more painful when Mike stops his exploration of your neck and chest and looks at you for a long moment – a very long moment.
“Are you sure about this?” he finally asks, and only then are you able to exhale that breath you were holding in without even noticing.
“Yes,” you say after swallowing the lump in your throat away.
“And because you’re so sure about this and ready for it,” Mike continues, “you remembered to bring protection, of course?”
Jackass. You roll your eyes at him and make sure to grind your ass against his cock extra hard when you get up to grab your bag. Normally, you couldn’t throw anything to save your life, but now, the small box of condoms hits Mike right in the… palm of his hand. Because he can actually catch things, as it turns out. Too bad, you were aiming for his face.
The room is pretty cold, and even though Mike never actually took any clothing off you, you’re freezing. All you want is to get back under the covers with him, but you can’t seem to move. Mike tosses the box onto the nightstand and throws the covers back by means of an invitation while he finishes getting naked. It takes a goofy smile and his reaching out his hand for you to finally move closer to the bed again.
“I’m nervous,” you say softly as you crawl into his arms. He squeezes you, it’s lovely. He’s not buff, but he’s stronger than he looks, and it’s very reassuring.
“So am I,” he says to your surprise. Your face must have asked the question for you, because he continues: “I want it to be good for you. Not that I normally don’t… Oh, fuck, never mind. I just want to make sure you have a nice first time.”
Mike slips his hands back underneath the fabric of your pajama shirt, only this time, he lifts it so he can pull it off you. Those hands may have wandered everywhere, but his eyes haven’t, and it makes you insecure until you see the look on his face. The hasty, sloppy kisses to your neck and shoulders are almost a form of keeping decorum, a way to pretend he doesn’t want to go straight for your chest, but he still makes it there within seconds. When he explored the rest of your body, his focus was fleeting – exactly what you were used to from him, because that’s exactly what he always does with everything. Now, however, he shows a level of commitment and dedication you’ve never seen in him. His lips wrap around one of your nipples, and you shriek when he sucks softly. The feeling itself is amazing, but the sounds that Mike lets out are even better. There’s absolutely no doubt in your mind that he loves what he’s seeing – although, at the moment, you doubt he’s seeing much to begin with, because his head is buried against your chest.
“Mikey!” you hiss when he gently bites down on your nipple. That finally gets him to let go of your breasts and kiss you again.
“Sorry,” he says when he breaks away again, “you have awesome boobs.”
As he kisses you again, he pushes your pants down your legs. Despite the nerves that still gnaw on your insides a little, you help him. For a while, it’s relatively easy to calm those pesky jitters down a little, until Mike reaches for the box on the nightstand.
“Are you sure about this?” Mike asks as he positions himself between your legs after putting a condom on. The tip of his cock pushes at your entrance in the most teasing way. When you nod, Mike kisses you softly before he pushes into you. He goes slow, and he’s really gentle, but you still wince.
“Whoa!” Mike stops moving as soon as he hears you hiss softly while your face scrunches up from the pain. “Relax, okay? Take a deep breath.” You do as he tells you, breath catching in your throat as he slides into your core further – this time it feels amazing, and you can’t stop yourself from moaning loudly. Mike chuckles when he hears you.
“Good?” His voice is strained, as if he’s having trouble behaving – and knowing him, he does. You nod again, unable to speak, overwhelmed by the new sensations in your body. When Mike moves his hips, you gasp. His movements are slow and shallow at first, but once he realizes you can take him, they become deeper, faster and more enthusiastic.
“Oh my god, Mikey!” you squeal when he hits a good spot inside you. Your fingers find their way into his curls, and you pull him down to kiss him.
“Feels so good,” you mumble against his lips. Mike’s lips pull into a grin, you can feel it.
“Fuck,” he hisses. His hips slow, but he doesn’t stop. Still, it makes you sad, because – and you can’t believe you’re actually having this thought – you want him to pound you.
“Don’t stop,” you whine, and you give Mike a pouting look.
“Hey, this is hard work!” Mike says quasi-offended. You both laugh – it feels strange, with him still inside you. When you stop, he looks at you in earnest. “Besides, I don't want this to be over yet.” He continues his slow tempo for a while, as he keeps kissing your neck, your chest, circling your nipples with his tongue, rolling the sensitive little buds between his fingers, making you squirm in every possible way until you’re almost begging him to fuck you hard again.
Suddenly, Mike lowers his head until his lips are right next to your ear. “Ready?” he whispers, but he doesn’t wait for an answer. His grip on your hip tightens, and his other hand crosses your back to grab your shoulder. Mike holds you tight as he slams his hips into you, leaving you breathless. He’s rough, not to the point where it hurts, but definitely approaching that edge. It feels amazing. You wrap your legs around his waist and close your eyes as your head falls back. A few harsh thrusts make you shriek. Mike hides his groaning in your neck before collapsing on top of you.
You whine when he pulls out, your walls suddenly clenching around nothing again. It’s a strange sensation after what you just experienced. Empty. Lonely. It gets even worse when Mike gets up.
“I’ll be right back.” Somehow, it’s not very reassuring. You curl up under the covers, fighting back tears. How could you sleep with your best friend’s stupid brother? Bianca will never forgive you…
“Whoa! Are you alright, Sweetcheeks?” Mike crawls into the bed behind you and wraps his arms around you.
“Bianca is going to kill me,” you say. Mike laughs, which annoys you. A lot. “Mikey, it’s not funny! She’s my best friend and you’re her brother!”
“Sweetcheeks,” Mike says, “we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, okay? Just come here, let’s go to sleep.” He pulls you into his arms, and for a moment – one that happens to last until the next morning – everything is perfect.
You wake up to twelve missed calls from Bianca and several text messages, the last of which reads ‘I know – I hope… – you’re busy licking my brother but call me back, maybe?’
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heavensent-or-scum · 1 year ago
Text
male yandere x gn! lifeguard reader
content warning : kinda descriptive language of pain towards the reader, nonconsensual touching on legs, arms, waist, and back (non-sexual, just a warning for those who get uncomfortable by it)
word count: roughly 5k
from quotev that was published last year, thought i'd post it here too <3 beware of editing errors and bad grammar, this is just copied and pasted from there. + apologies if this is sloppily formatted, first time posting something this long
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                You sigh.
                This was supposed to be a fun job where you just swim in the ocean with friends, take some free snacks from your employer's little shop, and maybe save a kid from drifting away in a pool floaty once. It was lifeguarding for god's sake! And during your entire time knowing people who've done it, they've almost never had to save someone from drowning. As well as you had a completely carefree summer all planned out. Staying in the sun so long that your eyes hurt adjusting back to the inside, getting slightly sunburnt from letting the hours fly by and forgetting to reapply sunscreen, and sitting around a campfire, burning all the unfinished schoolwork from the year while roasting marshmallows over it. But you couldn't do anything, you were just stuck sitting there, wasting your summer away. The hypnotic waves rolling in and out was enough for you to lose your mind, the beach filled with tourists and their loud-ass kids. You hated this fucking job. The most you could even do was scroll mindlessly on your phone as you watched its old battery drain twenty percent in ten minutes. 
                Your friends almost never even visited you while you were at your job, the locals nearby knew that there has been disappearances during the day on other beaches, and they didn't want to risk it. And the one time they did, they got chased away by your boss, and you got scolded for slacking off at work. He was not the easy-going person like you'd seen during your interview and training to be a lifeguard. You couldn't tell whether it was because you both were the only lifeguards and he had to work weekends or if he was having a power trip because you're the same age and he thinks it gives him a right to be an ass. He made your job insufferable. You feel your brow furrow just thinking about him, but it didn't really matter, you would never have to see him again. Your two final weeks were finally over. You thought you could hold out for the money, but you really, really couldn't.
                At least the view was pretty. You thought to yourself, throwing on a shirt and some awful uncomfortable sandals after another repetitive day. You squint looking at the setting sun turning the sky a deep pink color and fading into a starry night. It was such a peaceful time, you couldn't resist but go and sit by the waves watching the sunset at least once before you were finally done with this job. Hugging your knees, it felt like you were in a dream, watching the sun slowly set as the waves splash against you until the sky is crowded with twinkling stars. You had the entire beach to yourself, the only town being a thirty-minute walk away, it was oddly comforting after dealing with an entire day of loud people. Feeling your eyelids grow heavy after a while, you sigh before getting up and wringing out your shirt of any water that might've gotten in while you were sitting in the waves. You had to get home, as safe as you felt, there was just this inkling in the back of your mind that you had to get out of there. But then you spotted it.
                A man thrashing around in the waves, waving whenever he could, trying to signal for your help. How could you have missed them?! It was just far enough for you to see, but it could take you both down if you tried to save him. You knew your phone was dead, it was a bad habit already, but it just became life and death. And the only town nearby was too far away, and you knew if you ran to get help it would be too late. But you couldn't let someone die. Quickly diving into the void-like water, you try to get to the person as fast as possible, you count each stroke of your arms, trying to ignore the aching growing as you swam faster and faster. At least your lifeguard training wouldn't be for nothing. The moon reflecting down on the water was the only way you knew where he was, but the more times you came up for air and saw the distance between you and him, the more disappointed you felt. The burning in your arms and upper thighs got more and more unbearable as you swam, you didn't know if you could make it at this point, but you still had to continue. 
                Finally, you see the man, outlined by the light of the moon, it was an unsettling appearance, especially at night. He already towered over you, even submerged in the water. You feel your heart sink into your stomach. You knew that it was going to be almost impossible getting the both of you back, or at least it would be hell. You felt so small compared to him, your arms still burning from the long distance. As selfish as it was, the hopelessness in you made you wish that you would have just gone home or pretended you never saw him. It was too late for that now anyway, you couldn't just leave someone to drown, who knows how long he'd been out there?
                You scold yourself for not getting a floating device as you hurriedly reach out a slightly shaky hand to grab his to help him back to land, but as soon as he takes it, you can feel his body collapse and pull you into the darkness below. Water slowly begins to fill your lung as you try to pull him back up by his arm, attempting to make your way through the water with your eyes close. You started blaming yourself, if only you had just gone and got a floating ring, if only you tried to get help, if only… Before you can finish that thought, you feel the cold air against your face as you take a gulp of air. Your chest rapidly rises up and down before pulling the man above water and carrying him while floating on your back. You take a minute to breathe, it felt easier to stay above water than in it, but the lights from the town were smaller now, and it seems like you were going even further from beach.
                As you swam through the water, his head bobbing up and down without the support of his consciousness. You have no idea how close you are to shore, and you pray that the water is starting to get shallow enough to not hold any monsters of the deep. Logically, you know that the likely hood of actually dying out here is low, that no sea creature would probably eat you, but it doesn’t really quell your fears. It’s not even like you can look down and check, you can barely keep yourself up with a man who literally feels like you're pulling an anchor. Not to mention the black abyss that awaits you even if you try. So you continue floating through the water, when something slimy and cold brushes up against your shoulder blade, you immediately react, freaking out and pulling away from the man and moving away from the spot. Once you calm yourself, you look and see the piece of seaweed tangled in the man's hair, glimmering in the moonlight. You scold yourself for being so idiotic, what monster just lightly brushes against you, anyway? As you roll your eyes, you reach to grab it and untangle it from his hair, it's pretty badly intertwined, it's almost like it was done deliberately. It doesn’t matter though, as you manage to get it out, but before you can even toss it aside, a little light pops out that was nestled in his hair. You think your eyes are playing tricks on you at first but as you get closer, it looks more and more real until it looks exactly like an angler fish light. Immediately, you recoiled, dropping him into the water out of instinct, you can hear yourself breathing heavily now. 
                Come- come on, get yourself together. There's no way something is glowing. Jesus, you’re overreacting. It’s probably just a reflection of the moon or something.  Your thoughts are quick to try and rationalize what just happened, but there's not really any time for that anyway. He was out of your arms now, and slowly sinking into the deep abyss. You take a ragged breath of air before plunging back into the deep, you force yourself to open your eyes despite the stinging of the salt water. It would be worth it in the end as long as you didn’t have to stumble around blindly, and you could just get you both back on land. But as you swim further and further down, your lungs begin to burn, and his silhouette is barely visible. The pain in your lungs only grows the longer and deeper your go, you can hardly tell which way is up. You’re completely consumed by the darkness around you. Finally, you feel his wrist and roughly pull him up only to see a light bobbing up and down, the same one as before, only this time it was illuminating the beginning of a long, navy blue fish tail with sharp fins protruding off of it. Once you finally peel your eyes away from whatever you just saw, you’re met with pale blue eyes staring back at you, his hair so dark it flows behind him and blends in with the endless void that surrounds you. 
                No, no this isn’t real, this can’t be happening-! Your head pounds with your thoughts as you pull your hand back, dropping him, and ascending back to the surface. You swim, begging for it to end, begging to take a breath of air again, begging to get out of here! You didn’t want to know what would happen if you stayed any longer, if you were to die out here and be eaten by that thing! At long last, your head breaks through the surface of the ocean, you taking a deep breath with it. You can hear yourself pant as you turn around, trying to make sure he didn’t follow you. You were still out of breath from the swim, but it's not like you had time to catch it anyway. You just needed to get out of here, get away and just pretend this never happened. So, holding your head above water, you try to swim away or at least lose him by constantly moving. Even so, you barely manage to make it five feet away before seeing a head pop up, its hair flowing through the water and the light once again illuminating its face. 
                What? Nonono- He’s blocking my way. You turn, trying to swim the other direction whatever you can to get away from its thing! But he just pops out again, it's almost like whack-a-mole with how fast he is at stopping you from leaving. Eventually, you stop, treading water as he circles around you like a shark stalking its prey. You finally connect the dots as you do. No wonder you didn’t see a person drowning before, no one was there. Him pulling you down into the deep, his enormous size, everything. It was all a trap. He was a merman, but not the type with beautiful fins and gorgeous long hair. An angler fish, everything was a lure to get you here and now you’re trapped. There's not a chance you’re getting out of here alive, and you can see him closing in and coming up towards the surface while circling you. 
                “Listen- I don’t know if I did anything, but please don’t hurt me!” You were begging now? You didn’t even know if he could understand you, let alone be bothered to care. 
                “What?” His full head has emerged now, his head cocked to one side, and his tone is clearly confused. 
                What the hell is he talking about?
                 “You’re.. Not gonna eat me?” Your voice sounds even more confused than his. He was literally just circling around you like you’re a piece of meat! Is he insane? How is he this oblivious to the situation he put you in?! 
                He laughs before covering his mouth, looking at you with a pitiful look. “If I wanted to eat you, I would have done it by now. Besides, that's gross.” He has a grin still on his face, once again illuminated by the light atop his head, the sharp teeth now visible and glistening, proving his point.
                “Well, I really need to get back to land.” You scoff softly, god, maybe he wasn’t the vicious creature you thought he was. Maybe he’s just dumb. Honestly, you can’t believe you almost drowned twice for someone who didn’t even need saving. 
                “Are you sure? You’ve been swimming a lot, I know humans aren’t that… Resilient with swimming.” His grin fades into a soft neutral expression, before swimming closer and grabbing you by the forearm to support you in the water, his long, sharp, nails digging into your skin more than they should. 
                You nod, but man, it felt good to relax. Your limbs were practically screaming at you to just stop, to literally just relax for one moment. But you didn’t exactly feel safe with this thing, there was just something off about his mannerisms. It just didn’t feel right to let yourself walk into the arms of a monster,  as dumb as he seems, he hasn’t exactly proven himself to be trustworthy.  And it feels like you’re getting further from shore again, and if you weren’t going to drown before, the longer you stay like this, the monster's fault or not, you were definitely going to soon. So you softly push him away, repeating yourself on how you need to get back home, trying to loosen yourself from his tight grip. But he doesn’t budge. Before you can even try to protest, he mumbles something about this being the best for you before he dives into the depths. 
                It takes you a moment to realize what exactly is happening, you’re swimming down way faster than you’ve ever before, your hair being pulled back as you do. His claws digging into both of your arms now, keeping you from being left behind. As you can feel your air start to run out, your lungs aching and begging for it, you begin to struggle against him. Kicking his stomach, trying to hurt him, trying to get him off from you, digging your own nails into the skin of his hands, trying to pry them off you. The yearning for air was unbearable at this point, so you only became more violent, with a jerk of your head in an attempt trying to get his fucking claws off you, you manage to make him recoil, a hand trying to cover the blood gushing out of his nose. You’d done it, you’d actually done it. You weren’t going to stick around any longer, you use his stomach as a catapult into the water above you. God, you didn’t even really know how deep you were, but you still trying, the pain was unbearable at this point, just the thought, the hope, of breathing was keeping you going. 
                But that hope was short-lived as you feel something trying to grab your ankle, before pulling your leg back down, further away from air, and further away from the means of escape. You try to kick, push, anything, to get away, but you can only feel yourself be pulled down and your stomach dropping, your hair blocking your vision as you feel his arms wrapping around you and pulling you into a tight hug. But you can already feel him beginning to dive again, it’s already becoming too late. So you try one last time, clawing at his back, trying to pry him off you, anything. But you know he won’t let go, you know that by this point, don't you? No matter how hard you hit or scratch him, he won’t care, he’s not letting go. You can feel tears start to form, the pain is unbearable and unstoppable, it is hopeless, you see that now. You’re gonna die. You truly are. So you do the only thing you can do, cry. You feel his hands loosen around you before placing one on your head, fingers entangling themselves in your hair.
                Is he trying to be comforting? You think to yourself, but before you can even dwell on that thought, it’s answered. 
                “Just listen to me, ok? I’m not going to let you drown, or hurt you. Just close your eyes, I’ll take care of it.” He says softly, it’s honestly condescending at this point. You’re drowning in the arms of this monster, and he has the audacity to tell you that he’s not going to hurt you? What’s the really the point anymore, your eyelids had started to grow heavy as staying awake grows harder. So, you give in. I mean, at least it’ll be painless. 
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                You flutter your eyes open, fogginess still taking hold of your mind as you drift softly. Your eyelids still droopy, staring up at a grey abyss, raindrops falling on your face, only to be rudely interrupted by a wave splashing in your face, and you swallowing it in the process. Quickly coughing up the salt water and beginning to tread water, shifting around you only to find the ocean all around you. You remember blacking out in the hands of that bastard, so why were you here? You look down to see if it was some sort of trap but no, just the never-ending blue abyss beneath you. The rain clouds blocked the sun so you had no idea how long you’d been passed out and floating. Your throat so dry it feels like you haven't drank in a day, and you being surrounded by undrinkable water wasn’t really helping. Your limbs began to burn as you continue to tread water, becoming more and more exhausted. You finally give in, laying on your back and letting yourself once again begin to float in waves, God, you weren’t scared, you were terrified. You probably looked like dead meat to anything floating in the water, you were never really scared of the ocean, but being alone in open water for this long, it’s kinda hard not to let your imagination run wild. But then again, would it even be worth it to stay alive? You’ve seen the horror stories, would anyone save you? Would they even look? If you’re this far out, are you already a lost cause? 
                A hand on your shoulder rips you out of your thoughts, almost pulling you down with its force. You don’t even need to guess who it is, his claws had already dug their way into your skin, you shift into treading water, pulling away and looking towards him. He’s holding out a clearly old beer bottle with water reaching about halfway in it, a cork keeping it shut and keeping the liquid from getting mixed with salt water. He has a wide grin on his face, showing off his sharp teeth. His smile is met with silence from you, and after a while, he mumbles something under his breath about another person, some kind of confirmation, his hand over his mouth as he does, bringing the bottle with it.
                “Do, I mean, you need water, right?” He spat out, pushing it towards you, the water splashing around in its container as he does. You nod, saying yes softly as you do. He was right, and it’s probably not poisoned, right? What would you even do with a poisonous dead body in the ocean? 
                So you take it. Quickly trying to pop out the cork, you take a gulp of the water, trying to drink it as quickly as possible, only to stop halfway because of the weird aftertaste, god, as dumb as it sounds, the water tasted fishy. A taste that only got worse the longer it stayed in your mouth, quickly becoming disgusting and vile. You quickly try to spit it out, or at least get the taste out of your mouth. 
                “What the fuck is this?!” 
                He cocks his head a little, his grin softly fading for a second. “What do you mean? It's water. You need to continue drinking it, I don’t want you passing out on me.” He chuckles a bit, moving closer to you and lightly grabbing your hand that’s holding the bottle. 
                “Don’t lie to me! What the fuck is this shit?!” You firmly push it back towards him, the longer the taste lingers in your mouth, the more rotten it grows.
                He sighs softly before putting his hand over yours, gripping your hand and the bottle, and the other digging his nails into the back of your head, it entangling itself with your hair as he does. He grips it, forcing the tip of the bottle to your lips, pulling down on your hair, and forcing you to look up as a result. He forces whatever the liquid is down your throat. As soon as he makes sure you drank it, you feel his arms wrap around your waist before throwing himself back into the water, pulling you down with him. You try to claw his arms off at first, you are not going to suffocate again. You need to get out. But he still doesn’t budge, his arms locked together, holding you under. Not even moments after, you feel a pain surging through your legs, like they’d be cut in half and thousands of hands were ripping and crushing the bone inside. Eventually, you don’t feel anything, like the pain was too unbearable for your body and it just shut down. So you just shakily stay there, salt water and tears burning your eyes. 
                There’s no telling what’s happened to your legs. Maybe it’s some kind of revenge from this monster for your behavior, but it won’t be good. There was no way to tell if there were even any legs left. But no matter how many times you push, bite, or claw trying to get him off you, his grip only gets tighter, and the ocean only gets darker and darker. Finally, craning your neck, you can just barely make out something behind you. A ghostly white, edges almost transparent, cloth-looking trailing you, the long ends almost flapping behind you. A fucking tail. You don’t know how, or why, you’d read stories, some stupid urban legend or myth on the town. Trading your natural mortality to live in the ocean. Some did it to get away from the law, some their homelife, and some were selfish enough to do it for no reason. Like vampires of the ocean, they stayed the same age as they were when they first became those things, and there was no telling how many were out there, or even still alive. 
                You couldn’t even finish your train of thought before you were roughly dropped on the seabed long before you can fight for freedom, the darkness all around you practically consuming you with it. The only light just above you connected to the thing that brought you here. As soon as you realize, you push yourself off the floor, being weighed down by the useless tail that has now replaced your legs, but before you can even get a foot, he grabs the end of your tail and drags you back into his arms. Holding you in place, he swims to some sort of structure, nearly impossible to make out but it’s clearly made of metal, ducking under the opening passing for the door, and once you can see inside, you immediately recognize it. It was a fishing boat that had sunk and had tipped on its side. From what you can see, it was barely rusted, looking like it was just recently sunk. He quickly swims down to the bottom side of the boat, where his light illuminates just barely enough to make out a mattress. He more softly drops you on it, before fully standing up, hunching over to fit properly.
                “Do you like it? It took forever to get a mattress, and to get the transformation working, you don’t know how many of you silly humans got turned into snailfish.“ He’s grinning ear to ear now, the excitement in his eyes can’t be contained
                “Humans?” You freeze. Is he being serious right now? 
                “Well, obviously, I had to get it perfect, I couldn’t have you dying on me now, could I?” He chuckles to himself a little, before looking back at you. “Oh..! But don’t be jealous, they were all.. Um, whatchamacallit... disposable. Yeah, I think that’s right..”
                And so he goes on and on about how long it took, it takes a moment for you to start zoning out of either boredom or fear of how little remorse he felt for what he’s done. But he’s too engulfed in his thoughts to notice you taking it as an opportunity to escape, Quickly feeling around the darkness before finding the opening in the window, you try to cling onto the frame, pulling yourself up, and using your tail as a catapult to get out of there. Just before you are about to throw yourself through, you feel a hand roughly grab you by the hair, pulling you back inside. You fumble but quickly manage to grip the frame trying to pull yourself back out before he can pull you in, just trying to get away from this fucking monster, and kicking your new tail trying to get him off you. But in the end, he still manages to win, being able to pry you off it, holding you bridal-style while digging his nails into your skull and forcing you look at him, the more you try to struggle and get yourself out of there, the deeper they dig into it.
                “Stop trying to leave me! You don’t understand how lonely it’s been since I became like this!” His eyes pleading with you, it almost looking like he’s on the verge of tears. “But, but you’re just like me, you know that, right? You are just as lonely as I am, I’ve seen how isolated you were on the beach! We can keep each other company, just the two of us-!”
                “What the hell are you talking about?” You snap back before you can stop yourself, you continue. “I wasn’t lonely, it was a fucking job. You’re fucking insane.” 
                “W..what? But no one ever visited you, you were lonely, I could tell!” He’s looking down at you, the light illuminated the horrified and angry look in your eyes, practically frozen in his arms. He’s breathing more heavily now, his chest hurriedly rising up and down, his eyes frantically looking at you for any form of confirmation to his statement.
                “I’m not listening to this bullshit.” You once again struggle to get him off you like the creep he is. You only manage to get one arm out of his grip before he locks it back in.
                “Alright! Alright! Then please just listen to me-! You’ll get torn to shreds and eaten by whatever predator is out there if you go out there alone, and because of the fish you’re based on, if you go to the surface, you’ll melt!” He once again entangles his claws into your hair, forcing you to look at him, a desperate look in his eyes. 
                 “Even if you don’t want to be here, at least let me keep you safe.”
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A/N: Yes, I know that only the females get big and the females have the angler part thing light, as well as he is based off the biggest angler fish but in mermaid size (the yandere in the story is like 8'9" without those end fins), and that, from what i saw, didn't have any sharp teeth but shhh its my story. i do what i want
hopefully i didn't overdo the physical affection from him, he's supposed to be like out of touch with how humans act towards each other so he thinks its normal but like in an uncomfortable way towards the reader (he's delusional as hell and also kinda a himbo) 
also apologies if u hated it, im not a good writer + i had so much writers block while writing this its not even funny i just wanted it 2 b over
ps. i will never write this much again, this murdered me 
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og link: seasonal oneshots | | male yanderes x reader
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jasper-pagan-witch · 2 days ago
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I'm running low on questions so I'm gonna steal some that you asked me, mwahahaha! (Meaning I liked the questions you asked me) Yes, literal copy/paste except for one, I will keep this going! At least until I need to go to bed. It's like midnight here but I'm not tired.
Do you have any pre-divination things that you do?
What's it like having Athena as a patron?
Do you experience any form of separation between your religious and magical practice, or are they usually the same thing?
Of the entities you worship or work with, who would you say is the most hands-on? Who is the least?
What are all of the various divination systems you use? Do you find yourself enjoying some over others? Do you find yourself defaulting to any particular one for particular readings, even if they wouldn't otherwise be your go-tos?
*stumbles out of a fugue state* Finally back to work on this chunk, oop.
Do you have any pre-divination things that you do?
I "root down". It's sort of a combination of visualization and grounding, I suppose? I plant my feet on the floor and imagine them turning into roots digging down into the ground. I root down and power my own readings, since divination is typically a solo venture for me unless my querent calls for a particular entity for help. Usually it's just me and my 60+ decks.
I notably did NOT do this for the first reading I did for you over on @jasper-tarot-reader, which explains why my ass was down and out for several hours afterwards. I did not have the ground backing me up for energy and I could fucking tell afterwards.
What's it like having Athena as a patron?
Momma Athena looks out for me and listens whenever I need someone to talk to. And whenever I'm in excruciating pain, she sits with me and lets me just curl up in pain. She's a guardian first and foremost to me.
Do you experience any form of separation between your religious and magical practice, or are they usually the same thing?
Actually, my religious and magical practices are almost entirely separate...as are both to my divination practice. It's only recently and on occasion that there's any overlap, and that's mostly because I'm reaching back out to Azura for divination help and letting Cernunnos guide me deeper into magic when he decides that it's time for us to start.
Of the entities you worship or work with, who would you say is the most hands-on? Who is the least?
It really varies. I go back and forth on whether or not my tarot and oracle decks have spirits of their own. Cernunnos is currently most hands-on, while I mutter prayers and stuff to Hermes more often now since I'm driving more now. Currently, I'd say that Aphrodite is the most hands-off at the moment.
What are all of the various divination systems you use? Do you find yourself enjoying some over others? Do you find yourself defaulting to any particular one for particular readings, even if they wouldn't otherwise be your go-tos?
I'm gonna be real, I'm very boring. I use almost exclusively card-based divination - primarily tarot, secondarily oracle cards, and I'm trying to get into playing cards and Lenormand both at the moment.
I've tried using Futhark runes...and felt *zero* connection to them or how to read them. I've tried pendulums, but my hands shake too much for me to get an accurate read on it.
Thanks for sending these in! Sorry it took me a hot minute to get to them!
~Jasper
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