#well I do know.. it’s just a pain in the ass to tie that scene in with what I’ve written so far

[a-very-fond-farewell]

maybe I need someone to get me spiritual salt or smth for this arm. it’s getting intense. (Reigen will save me)

time to write!

[thehandsresisthim]

“BDSM headcanons - Simon “Ghost” Riley”

contains: discussion of bdsm, dom/sub relationship, sub!ghost, dom!fem!reader

word count: ~600

brat or obedient?

⋆｡♡ ˚ Simon is the utter opposite of a brat

⋆｡♡ ˚ although he might whimper occasionally or whine, he always, always listens

⋆｡♡ ˚ at first, it might creep you out a little; you’ll be just sitting down as you start the scene and he’s kneeling on the carpet, gorgeous brown eyes looking at you with affection, his hands on his thighs, waiting patiently for your instructions. no impatience, no begging, no pleading - just patience and obedience.

⋆｡♡ ˚ you could probably leave him sitting like this for an entire hour, and still, he would love it - Simon can’t imagine anything more fulfilling than obeying your commands.

⋆｡♡ ˚ as I said, he has no interest in bratting - trying to provoke you into punishing him (harder) would be to go against your decisions. and Simon would never go against your decisions during play.

kinks and limits:

⋆｡♡ ˚ I think that he has a keen interest in the more, uh, ‘traditional’ approach to femdom.

⋆｡♡ ˚ although he wants you to be comfortable, he can’t deny that seeing a woman - his woman - in a leather corset and heavy boots (that you just might use to put him in his place) and everything gets him going.

⋆｡♡ ˚ Simon is very much not opposed to pain. When it’s you who is dishing it out, of course.

⋆｡♡ ˚ he is a man who appreciates being hit with a paddle, or a cane - whatever you like. ideally, tie his hands up with a rope and have a hook on the ceiling prepared to tie the end of the rope to, forcing him to stay in place. he’ll whine and moan with each hit.

⋆｡♡ ˚ also, speaking of the more extreme side of femdom… yeah, he likes a bit of cbt. feel free to get out the humbler.

⋆｡♡ ˚ another thing he likes is edging. still, he won’t beg - if Mistress/Goddess/Queen decides that he’s not cumming yet, he just isn’t - but he will writhe and shake and cry. opposite of that - overstimulation. that, he loves too.

⋆｡♡ ˚ but, fundamentally, he cares about pleasing you. whether that means orally pleasuring you or moaning for you as you go about spanking him - as long as he knows that he’s being obedient and doing what you want, Simon is content.

⋆｡♡ ˚ Still, he has a few limits; these include:

-> puppy play (it just makes him feel weird. he’s a Queen’s dutiful servant, or his Goddess’s faithful subject. he’s not your dog - he doesn’t have to be taught to obey you. he’s already loyal, isn’t he? loyal and well behaved.),

-> long-term chastity (as in, wearing a chastity cage - it just doesn’t do anything for him. he’s not a brat, and if you tell him not to touch himself, he won’t. there’s no need for a cage, in his fantasy)

-> being degraded (again, this plays into his desire to be your obedient servant/subject/sub in general - he wants to serve you, endure pain for you or pleasure you. he doesn’t want to be seen as bad)

aftercare:

⋆｡♡ ˚ outside of caring for any physical ailments (like markings from you using a paddle, or a sore ass from being spanked), Simon has a great need for physical proximity to you after a scene. Since they are highly emotional to him, he often doesn’t speak a lot afterwards, but doing anything that includes you touching him is good for him.

⋆｡♡ ˚ if you do something more elaborate like giving him a massage, or just let him rest on top of you - he’s content as long as you keep him close.

⋆｡♡ ˚ Simon usually doesn’t give feedback on the scene as soon as it’s over. he just wants to be held and loved after.

⋆｡♡ ˚ most often, he gives you feedback on the scene the next day. he likes talking about it; your play strengthens your bond, your relationship, and talking about it enables him to ask for more, or to suggest other fantasies, and to make sure that you’re also comfortable being his domme.

thank you reading! for more fics, check out my master list ❤️

soap version is here :)

a small headcanon + drabble abt reader domming both simon and johnny simultaneously is here :)

[itsmarsss]

Scandalous (Blitzø x Fem!Succubus!Reader x Stolas) [Helluva Boss] Bonus - Trippin' Balls

How the mighty do fall. (Getting into a weird three-way situation with an imp and a succubus isn’t exactly considered classy, Stolas.)

A truth serum and emotionally repressed demons. What could go wrong with that?

pt 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 | 1st bonus | pt. 6 | pt. 7 | pt. 8 | pt. 9 | 2nd bonus

Word Count: 7,045

Warnings: truth seekers episode. hallucination, depictions of various types of trauma, uncomfortable hallucination scene involving boundaries being pushed, don't hate me for reader's hallucination, sexual remarks, jokes and innuendos as always, dhorks are their own warning i dont like the mfers lmao

Look who's back!

You sigh as you watch Blitzø hang from a window frame, trying to climb it.  “‘Kay, Blitz, I get it, can we please just go now?” It’s been a long day and, as endearing as his shenanigans can sometimes be, you’re all way too tired for him to be doing all this.

“Shhh, remember- we can’t be seen!” He whispers in reply, right before his hands slip, causing him to promptly fall off his ass from the dumpster he’d been hovering over, landing on the pavement.

“Pardon my words, sir, but you’re currently being the loudest,” Moxxie points out, and it’s objectively true. All his unnecessary tumbling out of stuff and rolling on the ground has been making much more noise than the rest of you combined.

Millie walks off into the portal, Loona already waiting on the other side of it, laughing at the way Blitzø stands back up at lightspeed just to shove his finger on Moxxie’s face. “You shush your dick-sucking lips, Moxxie.”

“Dude,” you call him out, “he’s right. Stop tumbling out of stuff like you’re some secret agent or something.”

“Well fuck you too, bitch! I’ll have you know I stuck a perfect landing.”

Finally changing out of your human form, you decide it’s best not to argue with him if you want to get home any time soon, settling on rolling your eyes and just agreeing with him instead. “Yeah, sure. Very cool. Can we please go now?” 

You can just feel he’s right about to insult you in some way when his expression shifts: his eyes widen at the sight of something behind you. “Fuck, shit, Mox, get down!” He yells out, and you don’t even get any time to look back and see what it is that he saw before he tackles both you and Moxxie to the ground and, out of the corner of your eye, you can clearly see what you assume are two tranquilizers land exactly where the two of you just stood. And then you see them. 

“Loona! Close it!” Blitzø yells, and you watch as Loona complies, hurriedly closing the portal that led directly to the meeting room in the I.M.P. office, leaving the three of you stuck on Earth.

And, in the middle of all the chaos, that’s when they get you. 

All you can register before blacking out is Blitzø screaming in pain at being covered by something, some sort of glowing net. And then everything goes dark. 

Shit.

[. . .]

You start panicking the very moment your eyes begin to flutter open, your sight begins to focus and you begin to gain your bearings after being out for who-knows-how-long, assuredly from the damn tranquilizers. Looking around, you gather that you, Blitzø and Moxxie have been tied up to chairs with your backs turned to each other. You pull on the ropes that tie your hands together on the back of your chair, but to no avail, and you hear Blitzø scoff at your attempt.

“Blitz! You’re awake?”

“Yeah, that doesn’t work. I tried. Maybe I should’ve bought that online course on untying army-grade knots.” He shrugs. 

“Fuck. Where even are we?” 

“Some government facility, I think.”

“You think?”

“Well, take a better fucking guess!”

“Hello?” Moxxie mumbles, beginning to wake up as well. 

“Mox?” You call.

“What’s going on?” He asks, groggy from the tranquilizer still.

The agents show up out of, seemingly, nowhere. It would be creepy if they didn’t look (and sound) so utterly unqualified and absurdly pathetic. “Y’all finally awake, huh? Your partner there’s been awake for a while.” The blonde woman tells you and Moxxie.

Blitzø immediately starts talking. “Look, shitbag, it takes a lot to keep me down, alright? I took a fuckton of tranquilizers in the college I dropped out of.” 

Now that’s new. “You went to college?” 

He arches an eyebrow at you. “Why you so surprised?” 

“You never told me about that.”

He shrugs. “Eh. Never told you ‘bout the time I was strapped nipple-first to a car battery either, so-” The other agent points a light directly to his eyes, making him squint. “Oh, okay-”

“Tell us, demon scum, who do you work for? Satan?” The guy asks.

“Heh, I wish. The guy’s hot as fuck,” you remark, and Moxxie laughs. By now, you know you’ve all silently agreed to pull the annoying card on them.

They pass the light between each other, the woman now holding it to your face. “How did you get to our world from the afterlife?” She asks, but gives you no time to reply, as the light is passed to the guy again. 

“Why are yous killing humans?”

And back to her. “When did you show up here?”

“Damn, that’s a lot of questions,” you point out.

It seems annoying enough, as the man lets out a frustrated growl. “You-”

Blitzø cuts him off. “Okay, okay, I’m gonna stop you right there, bitch. First of all, we just woke up from a veeery nasty shock and I’m still feeling fucking woozy, so I’m gonna request you fetch us some coffee before we get into this. I mean, everyone gets coffee in shitty movies with scenes like this, am I right? I want something iced, bitch. Y/n?”

“Ooh I’d die for some hot chocolate right now! Mox?”

“I’ll have a neapolitan cappuccino, more ‘capu’ than ‘ccino’, make sure it’s got no more than four ounces of milk, the beans won't have the right texture otherwise. And make sure they spell my name correctly on the cup, they always put Foxy or Roxy, I hate that. If you can’t handle that I’ll have a venti traditional misto, please use soy milk, with two blonde shots, affogato and ristretto! I’d also love three vanilla pumps at the very bottom and add the coffee after, and-”

You’re surprised they let him keep going for that long before the man interrupts him. “Enough! We aren’t getting yous coffee!”

“Wow, I was getting massive douche chills just there, Mox, congrats!” Blitzø comments, and he actually sounds proud. 

“It was beautiful!” You exclaim.

The lady crouches down to be at eye level with Moxxie. 

“If we have to, we are willing to resort to torture methods to get answers out of you nasty Hell beasts.”

“Ooh, you promise?” You ask her, turning up the fake-excitement in your voice, just to piss them off.

“When you say torture do you mean physical or psychological? Physical seems counterproductive. I mean, we’d likely tell you anything if it meant an end to the pain, and you would have no way of knowing what was true.” Moxxie tells her, matter-of-factly, and he’s not wrong.

“Or we might like it too much, and then you got a whole new thing to deal with,” Blitzø adds.

You nod. “We’ve done roleplay rougher than whatever this is.”

The man in front of you quirks an eyebrow in confusion. “What do you mean by that?” Now he’s just asking for this. Blitzø grins. 

“Ah, you’re stupid, huh? I can work with stupid. Daddy likey dummy.”

Moxxie can’t contain his laugh at that one, stomping his feet on the ground at Blitzø’s words. “Good one, sir! Daddy likey-” 

You can’t keep yourself from laughing, either, when the two agents all but jump back in disgust at what was said.

“You better stop laughing at us!”

“Yeah!”

“But you make it so hard!” Moxxie exclaims.

“You know what else is hard?” Blitzø goes, and it sends the three of you into a laughing fit again. 

“Hey!” The man picks Blitzø up with some difficulty. “You are the ones at our mercy.”

Moxxie turns their attention back to himself. “It’s hard to resist, I’m really sorry. I mean, considering your approach thus far you’ve had us tied here for what? Hours? And you haven’t even had us confirm what exactly we are.”

The two idiots share a look between themselves before the woman speaks up. “Well, what are you?”

“I’m a virgo!” He mocks.

“Ha!” Blitzø yells, proud of him, and the man actually looks done this time, letting Blitzø down. 

“Ooh, a smart guy, huh?”

His partner looks increasingly annoyed too. “One more quip out of you and we’ll shut you up.”

“Ooh, keep talking dirty,” you purr, and Blitzø immediately matches the energy.

“Getting kinky!”

Both agents jolt backward in disgust, the guy even letting out a horrified screech which, frankly? A bit too much, isn’t it? “We aren’t playing any of your vile demon kinks!”

“I mean, that's what it sounded like back there, you sickos,” Blitzø continues taunting.

“What else do you wanna do to us?” You ask them, raising an eyebrow suggestively, in an over-the-top attempt at ‘flirting’ meant to disgust them even further.

Moxxie catches on. “Please don’t give them ideas!” He exclaims, sounding purposefully fake in the request, as if he wants them to get ideas. Honestly, you’re pretty impressed. 

“Why not? I know the shit you’re into,” Blitzø states, and for a second Moxxie’s pleased expression falters. 

“Ah!” The man yells. “We are not getting kinky with you!”

You fake-pout, making eye-contact with him. “Why not, big boy?”

“I- I-”

“Oh, you’re good.” Blitzø compliments.

“Thank you.”

The lady pats her partner’s shoulder. “Calm down, One.” That’s the alias? They’re ‘One’ and ‘Two’? Pathetic. “Don’t let these monsters get into your head.”

You can’t contain it. “Aw, but we’re all so good at head!” 

‘Two’ growls and the three of you laugh.

“So, aren’t we gonna get our phone call, bitch?” Blitzø asks, annoyed.

‘One’ crosses his arms over his chest. “Well, that entirely depends. Who are you gonna call?”

“Your fat mom! Thanking her for a fat time!” Blitzø blurts out before the agent even finishes speaking entirely.

“Nice try, demon. His fat mom is dead!” ‘Two’ yells out, and the man promptly starts crying.

Okay, things are getting too weird now. And incredibly annoying. So much for getting home soon.

“Stop insulting my mother! She’s dead!”

Eh, you’ve got nothing to lose. “Okay. No more about your mom. Can’t you guys just let us go or something?” 

“No?” Both agents reply, at the same time.

You shrug. “Tried.”

“You thought that was gonna work?” Moxxie asks.

“I’m all out on the inconvenient comments.”

“Hey, let’s just leave them here until they feel like talking,” The lady tells ‘One’  with a grin. You all try to tug on the ropes again as soon as they’re out of the door, but still to no avail. 

“That online course really would’ve paid off right now,” you point out.

“Hey, don’t worry, we just keep being obnoxious and they'll eventually slip up and we’ll get a chance to get out. Let’s just keep fucking with them until they get so frustrated they stop thinking clearly, it usually works.”

“I guess.”

Moxxie tugs on the ropes again. “I’m just worried about Millie. She’ll be on her way by now, I'm sure.”

“Ugh, she'll be fine, Moxxie. It would take a fucking hippo to take down that woman when she’s upset.”

“He’s right, Mox. Millie can handle her shit.”

“Yeah, but we’ve never dealt with the human government before. She’s in danger!”

“Uh, are you guys seeing this too?” You ask, as you see a green fog slowly spread through the floor of the room.

“Do you ever honestly shut up about Millie? It’s always ‘oh, how's Millie?’, ‘I can't tonight, I’m hanging with Millie’, ‘I'm so worried about Millie’ and she’s always five fucking feet away from you, it’s pathetic.” Blitzø complains, and he actually sounds pissed. 

“That was… oddly personal.” Is all Moxxie says in response.

“Yeah dude, you alright there?”

“No you’re right, I don't know why the fuck I just let my guts spill like that.”

That’s a little weird, alright, but are they not seeing the actual, much bigger issue going on right now? “Okay, look, do you guys not see this weird fucking green fog all around?”

Moxxie looks down and, sure enough, is startled when he finally notices it. “Fuck, they’re filling this room with something!”

“Yeah no shit, Moxxie, that’s what I just said!”

“Fuck, the hell is this?” Blitzø asks.

Moxxie squints, looking around a bit more before declaring “I think it’s some kind of airborne truth-telling serum.”

“Oh, you just guessed that’s what it is?” 

“Well, uh, just ask me something specific I wouldn’t normally tell you.”

“Okay. Uh… does Millie ever peg you?” Of course that’s what he asks.

“Sometimes,” Moxxie replies instantly without a care before what he just admitted dawns on him. “Wait- ew! Fuck. Why that?”

“Heh. I knew it.”

“Hey why’s that so funny?” You’re speaking before you even process it. “You begged me to peg you for like wee-” Woah. So that was not supposed to come out. 

Blitzø interrupts. Thankfully. “Heeyyy, hey, how ‘bout we all shut up?”

“Your suit is tacky!” Moxxie blurts out, as if he’d been holding that in. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”

“And you have shitty taste in music,” Blitzø blurts right back out. “Fuck I’m sorry.” 

“You said you liked that musical I recommended to you!” 

“I lied! I left halfway through. I lied to you guys so many times! I’ve lied to Looney before too! Oh my sweet, sweet, Looney, I hope she’s alright she must be so scared-”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Yeah, like you don’t absolutely suffocate Loona. You talk about Moxxie and Millie but you’re so much worse with her. She's fine.”

“You take that back, she’s my daughter and it's different!”

“Is it really?”

“I don’t hear you saying shit about how Stolas treats his daughter.”

“Oh I didn’t know Stolas was in this room with us!”

“Oh I bet you wish he was.”

“Well you know who’s also not in this room with us? Your horse. You know why? Cause it’s not fucking real.” Only after all of that does it actually cross your mind that these aren’t things you should be saying. Curse Moxxie for being right about the truth serum. “Oh my- shit I’m sorry.”

“Oh you did not, you bitch! Lavender Magic Bubble Tea is real and she loves me!”

“As real as y/n’s shooting skills.” Moxxie laughs. 

You turn your head to face him at lightspeed. “I’m sorry, what did you just say?”

“I’m sorry, shit, I shouldn’t have said that out loud.”

“I’ll have you know I am improving!” You yell out before you promptly start crying.

“She's improving, Moxxie!” Blitzø defends.

It’s not long before the three of you become a big crying mess, apologizing to each other over and over again through your tears.

 [ . . . ]

“Moxxie, this is all your fault!” Blitzø spits.

“How is this my fault?” Moxxie tugs on the ropes that bind his wrists together behind the wooden chair once again as he cries, but it’s not useless this time around. 

The ropes fall graciously to the floor as he sets himself free, standing up to walk right into… what even is this? The empty dark room he’d just been in somehow morphs into an almost endless golden staircase, soft white clouds enveloping its surroundings. It makes him cough.

“Guys? I can’t see you. God, this smells awful.”

Moxxie doesn’t question it. He climbs the steps eagerly, wondering what it is he might find at the top. 

“What’s that music?” He asks out loud as a melancholic melody takes over the atmosphere. He keeps climbing, and climbing, and climbing until he reaches steps high enough that he’s able to see the top, only to find…

“Blitz? Is that you? Is this a prank? Because I swear to Satan-”

“It is no prank, bitch!” Blitzø, who, for some reason, is dressed in something weirdly similar to the Phantom of The Opera, mask covering the burn marks on his face and all, interrupts.

“Hey! Why do you sound like that?” Moxxie questions, as his appearance doesn’t seem to be the only thing that’s different about his boss- his voice lower, more dramatic and… was that an accent he could hear? 

“Because you, my precious little bitch boy, are trippin’ balls!” Blitzø declares, and, in this bizarre chain of events, it does seem like the best explanation as to why the imp sits by an organ at the top of a golden staircase in the sky, somehow playing a perfect melody that just compels Moxxie to sing his worries instead of talking about them. It still freaks him out.

No, what? How could this be? I’ve never tried acid, ‘shrooms or DMT It’s a bad trip, oy gevalt! Of course, Blitz, this would be your fault!  My lungs are full of honesty Would you promise me that you won’t judge?

Yes, bitch

Not trying to divulge too much But I’m in too deep So, first of all, fuck you!

What?

This is just typical Well, two can play in this game of dismay ‘Cause, if you’re here causing frustration, I’m torturing you in your hallucination!

[. . .]

Blitzø doesn’t know what this place is or how he got there, but this definitely wasn’t the same dark room he was in just a couple seconds ago. In fact, this barely even looked like the same reality he was in just a couple seconds ago. It’s still empty in this new place, but everything around him looks warped, fake. He’s covered in some sort of red goo that he can’t help but try to smell, and, for some reason he can’t comprehend for the life of him, he’s dressed like a circus clown, because of course that couldn’t be left out from this bizarre nightmare sequence he was living though. 

More red goo falls onto him, causing him to fall from his chair, to which he was somehow not bound anymore, and onto the muddy ground, but it’s not like that was the weirdest part of all of this. The goo morphs into some kind of cartoonish version of Moxxie, oddly similar to Blitzø’s own drawings of the imp, and this Moxxie-like creature speaks rapidly to him with words he can barely process, let alone comprehend.

“I simply follow your orders. It isn’t my fault your orders are as nonsensical as sun-tanning bed left out on the cold rainy porch of a fresh april shower-”

“Why are you talking like that? What the fuck does that even mean?”

“I am simply speaking Satan’s plain English. Perhaps you should crack open a dictionary sometime. And then maybe you could understand half of the frivolous things I carry on and on about in my many rants about upbringings. It is my honor that you should-”

“Shut up!” 

[ . . . ]

Fog.

All you can see all around you is fog. The same green fog that you’d warned your friends about now consumed everything. 

You try to blink, to squint, to somehow see anything beyond it, but to no avail, as it was so thick you couldn’t even see your own hands as you tried to wave them around in front of your eyes. 

But wait… you were waving your hands around. How? 

Standing up, you realize that, just like your hands, your legs had somehow been untied from the wooden chair, leaving you free to take Moxxie and Blitzø and run out of-

Where were Blitzø and Moxxie, anyway?

For all the dead silence indicated, you seemed to be alone in the room, no sign of them anywhere near. You walk around, mind spiraling with all sorts of awful possibilities. Maybe they were still there and the fog had made them pass out. Shit, the more time passes, the more it takes over the space, and you conclude it’s sure to suffocate you soon enough. 

Coughing as you feel the substance fill your lungs with each breath you take in, you call out their names, voice hoarse from the lack of air. You call them once, twice, three, four, ten times, until it dawns upon you that they are simply not there, and panic sets into you. If they're not here with you, where are they? What if they're hurt? What if they're- 

No.

You let yourself fall to the floor, defeated, and the tears immediately start to come out. What were you supposed to do from here, trapped, alone, scared… dying? How were you supposed to help?

Is this how you die? You’re gonna-

“You’re gonna die like this? That’s pathetic.” A familiar voice makes its presence known from somewhere behind the fog. It takes a single blink for it all to fizzle out, leaving the room almost completely dark and empty, except for…

It can’t be. “Verosika?”

She paces back and forth in front of you. “What, embarrassed? I couldn’t miss this for shit. This might be the best day of my life, really.”

“Verosika, Blitz- he-”

She scoffs, flipping her hair with the back of her hand. “Ugh, enough about the pathetic little imp! This is about you. And about me, I’m enjoying this very, very much.”

“You have to call I.M.P, they-”

She leans closer, looking down at you, and it makes you feel smaller than you’ve ever felt before. Her tall figure looms over you, and it’s easy to imagine how pathetic you look in comparison to her right now. She lifts your chin with her pointer finger and then squeezes your cheeks together. The action alone calls you helpless in all languages you can think of. “Shhh, shhhh. Come on now, you can’t do anything to help them. You’re dying. Ha! Isn’t that hilarious? You’re dying! And so are they. And there’s nothing you can do to stop that.”

With your cheeks squeezed together with increasing strength, you struggle to talk back. “That’s not fucking true, you-”

“Hey, I’m not the one saying it.” She releases you, putting her hands up in surrender.

“What?”

All she does is laugh, and it does sound like her normal, full-of-disdain laugh at first, but an uneasy feeling settles in your stomach when it slowly turns into a sinister sound, a deep, slow, unnatural laugh that echoes all around the little dark room, giving you shivers. Her face contorts in an uncomfortable, bizarre way as the sound gets louder, like her face is made out of clay and being molded by some entity’s invisible hands into something else …

Someone else.

Your eyes widen. “Millie.”

“Y/n? What the- what’s goin’ on?” She asks you, frantically looking around the empty room.

“I’m- I- these guys, they-”

She interrupts, visibly growing increasingly nervous. “Where’s Mox?”

“I don’t know, Mills, I can't find him, I-”

Her focus returns to you, and her tone changes drastically as she repeats your own words. “You can’t find him?”

“No! I’ve been trying, but-”

“You been tryin’? You been tryin’? Last thing I checked you’ve been curled up in this corner talking to yourself.”

“What? No, I tried- Verosika-“

“He’s gone. Isn’t he?”

“What? No, he’s out there, I know it-”

“You ‘know it’? How could ya possibly ‘know it’ when you’ve been here feeling sorry f’yourself ‘stead of looking for him?” Tears threaten to fall from her eyes, and her voice trembles. You’ve never seen her more distressed, and it scares you. If Millie’s lost hope, if she believes Moxxie’s dead, then… “He’s gone, Y/N. My Moxxie’s gone and it’s all your fault!”

“You have to listen to me, I-”

“No,” she interrupts, and her knife is pressed to your throat before you can even see her take it out. She’s fully crying now, but sadness isn’t the only thing you see in the eyes that stare right into your soul. 

Rage. You see rage in them.

“Millie, we can still go find them!”

“You won’t be here to find shit!” She lunges at you and you raise your arms over your face to protect yourself, but nothing comes. No knife pierces through your skin, no hands hit you, no teeth sink into you. You let your arms down, only to see remnants of green fog where she stood, as if she’d completely vanished. 

“Millie?”

There is nothing but silence for a moment, and you’re sure you’re back to being completely alone in the dark when you hear the noise of steps coming from behind you.

“Millie?”

Whatever it was that made the noise leaves you no more time to wonder before you’re tackled to the floor, hard.

[ . . . ]

Why do you hurt me so? 

I know, I push my friends away 

(Why must you push your friends away?) Why does this seem like a reoccurring thing that you alienate with your toxic routine?

I don’t know, eventually everyone goes 

‘Cause you’re thoughtless and cruel and you’ll end up alone! 

[ . . . ]

“Admit it, my dear boss- you don’t know what you’re doing half the time! And you depend on me and the girls to manage your foolish flights of fancy.”

“I don’t need you. I could do this shit on my own so easy!”

Blitzø is thrown back onto the ground with so much strength he struggles to sit back up, and when he does he’s met with a terrifying sight. Before him now is no longer the version of Moxxie he’s used to scribbling on corners of papers when he’s bored. ‘Moxxie’ has transformed into something much worse:

Striker towers over him, and he borrows Blitzø’s own voice as he spits the truth Blitzø ignores like the plague while looking down at him. “But you don’t want to be alone, Blitzo!”

Blitzø has no time to react as he’s yanked into the air by muddy, bodiless hands- only, when his eyesight focuses, they’re not bodiless anymore. A warped, black-and-white version of Fizzarolli contorts and twists its body to spill Blitzø’s insecurities directly to his face: “You tried the solo act, it didn’t work out so well!”

‘Fizzarolli’, who also borrows Blitzø’s voice, untwists his body as he laughs a freaky, grotesque laugh, sending Blitzø flying back to the floor, from where a creature emerges from the mud in front of him, taking form of yet another demon Blitzø loved to pretend he didn’t haunt him.

Verosika crawls her way over to him, cornering him back into something he can’t see. She holds his face in her hands with such strength Blitzø fears his eyes might pop out of their sockets. Unsurprisingly, yet still horrifying, his own voice comes out of her mouth, too, when she speaks. “And you still shove away anyone who gets too close until they resent you for being a selfish shit-spittin’ snob!”

In a desperate attempt to flee from her, Blitzø blindly yanks himself away from her hold, standing up and turning around to face whatever it was that he’d been backed into- only to see it’s a big, fancy staircase. He tries to climb up its steps, only to be stopped by some sort of invisible force that prevents him from getting any closer. 

The staircase that looked endless before unveils the sight of none other than Stolas, who sits, in all his royal glory, on a golden throne at the top, while clones of Blitzø himself and Y/N tend to him. Blitzø doesn’t spare a single thought into the matter before he tries to crawl up the steps once again, and realizes perhaps this is how he’s supposed to get there- by crawling his way up to him- seen as the force that once stopped him doesn’t bother him this time around.

As he crawls his way up, he notices his previous circus clown get-up morph into his usual work clothes, but that is long forgotten about when someone magically appears by his side.

Y/N crawls her way up to Stolas alongside him now, golden collars attached to matching golden chains materializing around their necks. Stolas pulls on said chains, forcing them both into kneeling at his feet right before his throne. Stolas leans down, and he gets at face-level with him, but his place is still clear: beneath him, less than. 

Stolas tilts his head to the side and smiles. 

“Are you afraid to love people, Blitzy?” He coos, before releasing his hold on Blitzø’s face. With a flick to his forehead that is almost comical, Blitzø is sent rolling down the steps, landing back on the muddy ground. He holds himself up with difficulty, hands instinctively feeling his neck for the collar that was once there, only to find nothing. Looking back to the top of the stairs, he sees Y/N has been freed from the collar and chains as well, only she’s still there with him, still kneeling on the floor, still worshipping.

“Y/N, come on, you don’t have to-”

She turns back to face him, and her expression shows nothing but anger. “Can’t you let me have this one fucking thing, Blitz?”

“What are you-”

A white flash of light blinds him. He covers his eyes with his right arm, blinking rapidly to try to gain his sight back, only to see something that is somehow even worse- Y/N no longer kneels before Stolas’ throne, but sits right on his lap instead, wearing clothes Blitzø could swear looked identical to what he’d seen Stella in before. The clones of the two of them are now gone. 

“What, did you think we needed you?” She laughs as if the mere idea were utterly stupid.

She leans further into Stolas and whispers something in his ear, to which he giggles. 

“You’re right, darling, why would he think we would want him? Pathetic little imp.” Stolas speaks to her, but stares right into Blitzø’s eyes as he does so, and grins.

Moxxie, the real Moxxie, instead of some cartoonish version of him, appears in front of him once again, only this time he wears this weird princess-like dress. Blitzø doesn’t question it for even a single second. 

“I believe your self-conscious is trying to tell you that you simply cannot fathom proper intimacy, but also crave it as well. And you fear your inability to show affection to those you care for will heed their need for you entirely. Is that not right, sir? It’s rather unfortunate, really, considering it’s often how you treat those who stand by you… such as myself. Are you worried I may have enough of it one day as well?

“Stop fucking talking, all of you!”

[ . . . ]

You bring your hand up to touch the back of your head, where you’d hit the ground, relieved when you see no blood, and you struggle to stand back up. “Fuck. Millie?”

“How could you let him die?” 

Shit, that wasn't Millie.

“Loona?”

“You said you’d take care of him. You promised.”

“Loona, I-”

“He was the only thing I had left. He was the only one to actually see me as a fucking person and not some rabid guard dog.”

“Loona, we can go find him, I’m sure he’s-”

“He’s gone! Fucking gone! And who’s fucking fault is that, huh?”

“Loona, I swear, I don’t know what happened to him-“

“Stop lying! You don’t care. You never fucking cared. You don’t care about Moxxie and you don’t care about Millie and you don’t care about Blitz and you don’t care about me.”

“That’s not true, Loons, I love-”

“Shut up!” She yells. Angry tears roll down her face and fall to the ground, fizzling out as green fog into the air. “Shut up. Don’t fucking say it. We all know what it is that you care about.”

“What?

The green fog from her tears envelop her entire figure, leaving you with Stolas right where she just stood when it dissipates.

He holds your face in his hand, lovingly. “Are you alright, dear?”

“Stolas. Is this… is this really you?”

He laughs, tenderly. “Of course, darling. Who else would it be?”

“I… I don’t- I don’t know-”

“Here, you got struck pretty bad, didn’t you? Are you hurt?”

“No, I-”

He doesn’t listen, manhandling you into sitting back down so he can look at the bruises that now cover your face and body.  “Don’t lie to me. We’ll take care of it. Alright?”

“Stolas?”

“Hm?” He pays half a mind to what you’re saying as he murmurs what you assume are healing spells as he runs his fingertips over your split bottom lip and the cut on your eyebrow.

“Where’s Blitz?”

He ignores you. “Did you get tackled, dearest? This does not look good.”

“Stolas where is Blitz?” You repeat yourself more clearly. Surely he just didn’t hear you, right?

He touches the bruises on your hand, amused. “And these! Oh my. Have you been fighting some rabid dog?” He laughs.

You retract your hand from his. It can’t be that he’s just ignoring everything you say, can it? “Stolas. Answer me.”

He dodges your words once again. “May I take a look at your head? You might have gotten a concussion from all this.”

“STOLAS!” You yell out, exasperated.

His preoccupied expression drops in a fraction of a second. “What is it?” He asks, visibly annoyed this time around.

“I am asking you a question!”

“I don’t know where he is! I don’t keep track of what you little imps do.”

“What? He’s in danger, Stolas, we need-”

“We need to do what? Help him? Save him?”

“Yes! How can you act so unbothered about all of this when I’m freaking the fuck out-”

“How about we make a deal?”

“What?”

“I’ll help you find your friends. If you give me a little… something… in return,” he offers, leaning closer to you.

“You’re not being serious right now.”

“But I am. You’ve seen no issue with my… deals… before.” He slowly drags his pointer finger along your face, condescendingly tapping your cheek once when he’s done. It actually makes you uncomfortable.

“Stolas, this is not the time.”

“Really? When is the time, pet?”

“Stop. This is not like you.”

“Is it not? Blitzy did warn you.”

“He’s wrong. He’s wrong. He’s wrong.”

[ . . . ]

Why, Moxxie, why?  Do you hide your true feelings inside?

I am scared of rejection 

Why, Moxxie, why?  Do you have Millie put it in your butt?

It gives me an erectio- hey!

No need to hide We accept your true feelings, so promise me

That I can do To be true

The world is your anus, so peg it with honesty

“Ugh!”

I’ve been a jackass, it’s true

(You’ve been a jackass, it’s true)

But soon as we’re back as ourselves I will be a better friend than i was before 

Be better at speaking my mind 

And together we��ll begin to become… Fine 

[ . . . ]

Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the brightness of the lights, and you catch a glimpse of the reminiscents of the green fog dissipating. You’re still bound to that damn wodden chair and you can feel Moxxie and Blitzø move as they awaken as well. You look down at the floor, unable to even try and look at either of them after whatever that was that your brain conjured during your hallucination. Judging by the sheer silence, you can only imagine they’ve also gone through some sort of terrible vision while tripping on whatever this substance was.

Moxxie is the first to say something after what feels like an eternity. 

“Blitz?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you remember what you said to me after my first day with the company?”

“Not really,” Blitzø replies with a shrug.

“I remember. You told me I did a good job and that you were proud to work with me. I feel like you wanted to say something more judgemental, but… you said that because I needed it. And it helped.”

“I felt that too.”

“What?”

“When you came by to offer me the job. I wasn’t going to accept it. I think you knew that. But Moxxie said you’d talked non-stop about me and how you needed me for this to work. I felt like you wanted to correct him, but you didn’t. You let him tell me that. I still don’t know if it’s even true, but… I needed that.”

“Look, you care too much about what everyone thinks, except for… me, because, you know, my opinion is correct, but just… keep doing a good job, okay? I’m hard on you because I know what you’re capable of. Both of you. You kill good, you escape things easy, you can be strategic and cold-blooded when you need to and… don’t expect any more compliments, I maxed out.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You know my name. Use it.”

“Thanks, Blitz.”

A silence fills the atmosphere for a few seconds before you manage to say what you’ve been meaning to ever since waking up. 

“Hey, Mox?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you… would you maybe give me shooting lessons?”

“Hey, I’m really sorry I said those things-”

“No, you- you were right. I can handle myself with a knife or a dagger or whatever but I’m pretty shit with a gun. And you’re the best shooter I know, so…”

“Second best shooter you know,” Blitzø corrects you, and you roll your eyes, smiling.

“So? What do you say?”

“Yeah. I’d love to, Y/N.”

“Cool.”

“What, you’re not gonna say anything to me?” Blitzø questions, annoyed.

“Honestly? I just… I’m glad you tried to steal from Ozzie that night. I’m glad we’re friends. I hope you know that.”

“Yeah. Same. Don’t expect much more than that, this has already been way too touchy-feely for me.”

You laugh. “Fair enough.”

“So how long do you think they’re gonna keep us-” As if on cue, Millie barges into the room through the glass, interrupting Blitzø. Through the huge hole left on the cracked glass, you see Loona standing on the other side of the room, and for only a moment does it make you nervous to see the both of them again, memories of them, angry and crying, coming back to you. 

But Millie crushes Moxxie with a hug and peppers kisses all over his face and unties you and hugs you tight and asks you if you’re okay and suddenly your worries wash away like nothing but a bad memory. She’s there- the real her, and she’s worried about you. 

Besides, you don’t get much time to dwell on the memories of what you saw while in delirium, because a siren starts sounding, alerting every single one of the agents in the building of your presence. 

[ . . .]

“I- I can’t see dick!” Loona exclaims, exasperated at the useless attempt to read the words from the Grimoire and get all of you back home.

Blitzø fumbles with his pockets, trying to find more weapons, only to come up empty-handed. “Oh, shit. looks like we’ve milked this weapon tit-dry and now we’re out of badass-erry.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’ve got yourselves trapped into a government facility in the human world with no way to get back home and, suddenly, the two idiots that had held you hostage for the majority of the day didn’t seem as stupid as they did just a few minutes ago, now that they had the upper hand. 

“Ha! You demons aren’t going anywhere now!” ‘Agent One’ mocks, holding a gun in your direction. 

It seems like it might actually be the end for all of you, and it’s actually terrifying.

Until something happens. 

The atmosphere in the room shifts, chills coursing through your spine as some sort of presence makes itself known. The many monitors in the room turn on, one at a time, making the sound of static take over the room before they begin to fall to the ground, one at a time as well, screens shattering against the floor. 

A voice echoes through the tiny room, ominous and bone-chilling: “Who dare threaten my impish little playthings?”

You and Blitzø immediately whip your heads around to face each other, sharing an alarmed look. 

Fuck. Stolas.

[. . .]

“How did you even know that we needed help?” Blitzø asks when Stolas comes back into his usual, normal form.

“I have my ways, darling. Are you two alright?” Is the first thing Stolas says as if possessing someone from Hell and making corpses summon him so he could come up to the human world though that someone’s body was no big deal, grabbing both you and Blitzø by your cheeks and squeezing them hard. 

“We’re fine, Stolas,” Blitzø replies with an eye roll.

“Good. Good.” Stolas takes a deep breath before his eyes widen so much they might as well fall off his face- all four of them. “How the fuck did you get caught by humans? Are you little creatures not being careful up here? You know if you get in trouble I get in trouble. We don’t want that.”

“This wasn’t supposed to happen, Stolas. We’re sorry,” you try.

Moxxie nods in agreement. “They caught us off-guard, Your Highness.”

Blitzø has a… less respectful approach. “Yeah, you can unclench your bird-puss, Stolas. It's not gonna happen again, okay?”

“Luckily for you, most don't believe the words of the demon-obsessed lunatics. They are seen as kooks.” Stolas laughs. “Kooks! Such a silly word. Now, let us all return,” He says, opening a opens a portal back to hell with ease.

“Yes, please. I'd like to return to the correct hell-hole as soon as possible,” Moxxie says, jumping into the portal, followed right away by Millie and Loona. 

Unspokenly, Blitzø takes his place in Stolas’ arms, and you climb his back until you can wrap your arms around his neck, wrapping your legs around his torso as well. 

He looks pleased at the position the three of you find yourselves in, “Am I going to get any thank you for this rescue?”

Blitzø raises a hand to his own chin, as if seriously pondering over the answer.“‘S’ppose you should. What do you think?” He asks you.

“Are you kidding me? That was so fucking hot, you can fuck me into next week for that.”

Your words ignite something within Stolas, whose voice sounds higher than usual when he tries to speak. “Oh. I’d very much like that.”

“Want me to fuck your brains out while you’re at it?” Blitzø offers.

“Very much so.”

“‘Kay but you’re gonna keep quiet or I'm gonna use the bear traps.”

“As if he’s not into that!” You accuse, laughing.

The feathers around Stolas’ neck puff up with arousal as he conjures up images of the scenario in his mind. “Please do.”

“See?”

A/N: yall thought i was giving up huh think again!!!

[fisheito]

*rings the service bell* hi um i was wondering.. if there's any yakumo temperature play in here? sounds silly but i only realised after i circled the building a few times... that i haven't seen it at all. Seems to be common practice, actually- to not have it. i've visited several other buildings and there's been no sight of it.

which is... strange? if i think about it, it's surprising that i haven't encountered it yet! it sort of makes sense to have them together, you know? considering that temperature is so vital to a snake's perception of the world. and how sensitive reptiles are to temperature fluctuations.

so there's a lot of control to be had here. can you imagine controlling someone's energy level just by adjusting the thermostat? er- well, i guess we already do that. but imagine you put yakumo in an ice bath and he immediately falls asleep. brumation happens instantly now, sorry. and the only way to snap him out of it is to stick a flaming dildo up his ass

what?. no, i mean, restore his regular energy level with a soft warm-up. a heated blanket and a gentle steam. hahaha.

people plunge themselves into ice water before jumping into hot tubs and vice versa- for fun! they do this recreationally!! they call it a "spa treatment" and pay a premium for it! what's wrong with giving yakumo a spa treatment? who are we to deprive him of such sensory luxury?

i'm JUST SAYING that since he naturally gravitates toward heat, you could put him in a hurt AND comfort scenario he could be naked and cold, banished to the distant corner of the room.. but when you offer him a source of warmth, whether that be a hot rock or a warm hand or 20 lit candles suspended above him dripping wax on him at random intervals,,, wouldn't he have a tough time turning down your generosity?

i mean, he certainly would if he was tied up.

see, here's the other thing i cannot quite comprehend-- it's that--- how has a snake yokai not featured bondage scenes yet? i guess there was that one time with the.. hm. no, we shan't talk about the cellar. besides, ONLY ONE TIME is unacceptable for a sentient rope!! although yakumo would love to wrap up his prey and squeeze the cum out of em, i feel like we're missing out on a lot by not OutSnaking the Snake. tie up and restrain the Restrainer. it's just a liiiiittle step farther than putting him in a pillowcase! so mild!!!!

here's a guy who is always worried about losing control/// about being free to wreak havoc on his loved ones, despite his best intentions. so how about we give him a moment of peace? a moment where he believes he's subdued and unable to cause harm? just tie him up! keep him under TIGHT lock and key. (or some nice soft cloths for his sensitive skin, if we're being nice.) honestly, his brain will do the rest of the work. even if he's not truly incapacitated, his desire to BE So can fill the gaps in any questionable knotwork.

while he's half in the prison of his mind and half in the confines you've created for him, take some time to squeeze some whimpers out of him. although it pains me to cover up those soggy eyes, a blindfold may be an intriguing option. is yakumo the type of snake to rely on heat vision? WHY NOT FIND OUT! (if he's not terrified at his loss of sight, then i guess his pit organs are functioning . in which case, the blindfold doesn't really need to stay on. if he IS terrified and feels the loss of visuals acutely, this would be an excellent opportunity to soak in his panic. just for a bit though. we're not so cruel. guide him back with a warm touch. see? playing with fire temperature contrasts can bring such relief!)

maybe i'm getting ahead of myself. i don't expect yakumo temperature play to show up WITH bondage , why- that would be asking a lot, right?

but the basics are simple enough, yes? give the wretched creature the comforting warmth he wants, then perhaps inch closer to something bordering uncomfortable? Too Much? have him seek out what he craves, only to be burned (metaphorically and/or literally) if he indulges himself too much? oops! someone's become a slave to their senses!

i'm just saying that the sensory perception of yokai vs kink is (relatively) unknown territory. if temperature play already messes with humans, what could it possibly do to yakumo? he could experience it in facets unknown to others.-=- to levels others are incapable of appreciating---- like someone with synesthesia who can experience music with another layer of enjoyment.

if you give a snake ice cream, followed by a hot piece of meat [unknown origin], it'll really make him aware of the contrast, hmm??????

anyway. sorry about that. i'm not super clear on the specifics of it all. i just thought it peculiar that i haven't seen the yaku-hot-cold-sensitivity-finagling. out there, in here, nowhere as far as i've seen..

...or is it located in a part of the building i overlooked? if so, could you direct me there? i would really appreciate it.

if you don't have it after all, that's ok. i'll keep a careful watch now that i know what i'm looking for. maybe it's one of those things where, once i actively search for it, i'll notice it everywhere! wouldn't that be delightful!

with that, i guess i'll be on my way. thanks for your patience. yeah, i hope i find it too. have a good one!!

[minminyoonjii]

Hey hun!!!

I first off wanted to ask how you are doing??? People don't check in with the writer enough!

Secondly I wanted to say you are officially my new favorite blog!!! I die for all your skz content

Lastly I had a request if you don't mind. Soft Dom Hyunjin struggling to tame brat reader so he asks for help from hard Dom minho. I feel like that duo isn't used enough!

I was thinking maybe professor skz or at least like a role play situation but it is up to you!!!

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

💜Rules and Guidelines

🕯Summary: Mr. Hwang's course has always been a pain in the ass for your GPA so he decides to confront you on it, but you couldn't hold back from snapping at him. Mr. Lee heard the commotion and wanted to lay some advice.

💛AN

I'm been doing alright, lowkey having Ao3 writer curse from the amount of times the hospital and clinics have seen me but overall A-okay. On sem break at the moment and I'm savouring it as much as possible. Thank you so much for liking my work, I hope you enjoy this one💛💛

🌹CW

Rough Sex|Spitroasting|Oral Sex|Teeth Grazing On Cock|Wet & Messy|Reader Is Fucked Dumb|Degrading Kink|Professor! Hwang Hyunjin/Professor! Lee Minho|Cum Swallowing|Creampie|Glasses Wearing Minho|Bratty Fem! Reader|Punishment Scene|Heavy Praise Degrading Talks|Aftercare

💌 This is a work of fiction, I by all means don't force ship anyone. They have the right to love whomever they want.

🍄Wordcount: 1.6K

"What am I going to do with you, hm?" Hyunjin questioned, rubbing his face between his palms. You grumbled, crossing your arms "I don't see what I'm doing wrong," you said, glaring up at him. Hyunjin dropped the papers on your desk, "I've never had such a badly graded student throughout my career," he said, pointing at your test scores. You rolled your eyes, "Sounds like a you problem," you said, mocking him. 

Hyunjin chuckled, rubbing between his eyebrows, "Is that so? Have you ever tried picking up a book throughout this semester?" he questioned, gripping the sides of your desk. You clenched your jaw, "Of course I have, your course just doesn't make sense," you retorted, pressing your tongue against your back molar. Hyunjin scoffed, "I basically spoon-fed the entire class and you couldn't even grasp a single concept?" he asked, finding it hard to believe.

You smirked, "It's not my fault you suck at projecting information, professor," you said, leaning back into your chair. Hyunjin cracked the joints in his neck, "There's no getting through your stubborn head. Why are you even fighting back on this, don't you need my course to graduate?" he asked, piercing his eyes at you. "I rather fail your class multiple times than admit that you can teach," you hissed, looking away from him. 

Just as Hyunjin was about to question further, a firm knock snapped the both of you out of the high-tension confrontation "What's going on here, Mr. Hwang? I could hear your voice down the hallway, you know how these walls bounce audio," Minho asked, leaning against the door front with his glasses perched on his nose. Hyunjin stood straight, "Mr. Lee, I was just having a discord with one of my students," he explained, showing Minho your results.

Minho looked at the papers, "Seems like it's more than a simple discord," he said, setting the papers down. You gave Minho a side glance, "What's in it for you, you're not even my professor," you pointed out, finding Minho's serene calm attitude unnerving. Minho smiled, "Well, dear. Mr. Hwang seems to be having a hard time putting you in your place and I have no problem reprimanding a brat like you," he said bluntly, shedding off his overcoat, showcasing his toned arms.

Your eyes darted between your professors, "You can't do that," you spluttered, bouncing your legs. Hyunjin loosened his tie, walking over to lock the room door "Under what guideline?" he teased, pressing his tongue against his inner cheek. Your breath hitched when a sudden firm grip wrapped the back of your neck, "You should have done this in the first place Hwang, look how submissive she looks. Like a sweet kitten," he said, licking the rim of your ear.

You squirmed, tilting your head back in the hope of breaking Minho's nose. He laughed at your feeble attempt, pressing your face onto the desk "Feisty like one as well," he purred, keeping you subdued beneath his grip. Hyunjin unbuckled his belt, slacks dropping to his calves "What should we do with her, Lee? You have first dibs," he said, folding his slacks aside. You shifted, trying to nip Minho's palm as they talked about your body like a doll.

Minho chuckled, "This might be sick of me to say, but I would love to thrust down that tight mouth of hers. As long as she watches the teeth," he said, grabbing a fist full of your hair and tugging it back. You choked out a whimper, glaring at the man who started this mess in the first place. Hyunjin cooed, palming his clothed boxer "Then I'll take her pretty hole, I bet it's dripping from how rough you're handling her Lee. A slut like her just loves to be manhandled," he said, watching Minho position himself in front of your mouth.

Minho groaned, "Do you mind stripping me down, Hwang? I unfortunately need to keep my hand on this feral kitten," he said, leaning back into Hyunjin's chest. "It's my pleasure, Lee," Hyunjin chuckled and kissed down Minho's neck while his hands unbuckled his belt. Minho hissed, baring his neck further for Hyunjin to kiss. "Throbbing already, Lee?" Hyunjin asked, cupping Minho's growing bulge. "Oh, f-fuck. Can't blame me for being aroused, Hwang," Minho hummed, grinding back on Hyunjin's clothed cock.

You whined, head spinning from Minho's firm grip holding you in place. "Aww, looks like the doll is needy, Lee. Go ahead and feed her," Hyunjin said, tugging down Minho's boxers. Minho grunted, holding the base of his cock with his free hand "You better watch your teeth, dear. If not your punishment will be much worse," he warned, tapping your bottom lip with his precum-silked cockhead. You relaxed your jaw, moaning at the taste of musk hitting your tongue. 

A deep hum rumbled from Minho's chest as he pushed this cock down your throat. Tears dripped down your eyes from the sheer girth of his cock stretching your mouth open. Minho chuckled, rolling his hips at a steady pace, hitting the back of your palate with each thrust. You moaned around his length, letting your teeth graze his cock for a mere second but a sharp sting impacted your cheek. Minho hissed, tugging your hair to his pelvis, making you choke and gag around his cockhead "I said, watch it with the teeth didn't I? " he growled.

You whimpered, drooling dripped down your chin onto the floor below. Hyunjin chuckled, "One punishment isn't enough for a precious girl like her, Lee," he said, lifting your hips and sitting beneath you. Minho moaned at the sudden shift of position "Fuck, Hwang. A warning would be fucking nice," he hissed, using your mouth as like an onahole. Hyunjin tugged your panties aside, pressing his thumb into your soaking warm hole "You should have a go at her pretty cunt once you're done with her mouth, Lee," he said, easing two fingers into your clenching walls.

Minho's hips trembled, "Ah, ah, yeah. Shit, your mouth feels so tight around my cock, dear," he moaned, staring down at you with half-lidded eyes. Your head spun at the lack of oxygen, submitting to the harsh thrusts Minho plunged down your throat. "That's it, kitten. Fuck, fuck, fucking take it, swallow everything," he grunted, sinking his cock to the hilt. You choked a sob, cum squirting down your esophagus, and you tried your hardest to swallow every single drop of cum you were given. 

"Good girl," Minho rasped, pulling out. Hyunjin slicked his cock with your fluids, drenching his inner thighs and testicles "Take a deep breath, princess," he whispered, easing his cock within your gummy ribbed walls, inch by inch. You wailed, face pressed against the desk from how weak your arms wobbled when you tried lifting yourself. "Sir, sir please," you begged, feeling the desk shift beneath you with every thrust Hyunjin pounded. 

Hyunjin kissed the back of your neck, "Hush, princess. Just take it, okay? " he grunted, gripping your hips firmly and starting to roll his hips at a ruthless pace. Broken moans and whimpers echoed within the room. Fluids pooled against your face, may it be Minho's cum, your drool or tears, everything blurred into a sheen of liquids. Hyunjin flicked your swollen clit in tandem with his precise thrusts "Come on, princess. Gush and cream around your professor's cock. Make yourself useful for once, yeah?" he grunted, slurring his words.

Your abdomen clenched, nails weakly clawing the desk "Please, please, sir," you sobbed, feeling your orgasm teether on the edge. Hyunjin quicken his pace, sinking further into your warm tight cunt "Close your eyes and just feel," he growled, pinching your puffy clit. Your jaw dropped into a silent scream, and your body tensed up "Fuck," you keened, clenching hard around Hyunjin's length. Hyunjin's breath lodged within his airway, "Good girl, such a good girl," he groaned, spreading your ass apart to see the creamy foam bubbling around your opening.

Hyunjin moaned loudly, cock pulsing as he came from the sight "Holy fucking shit, you're sexy," he hummed, pumping his cock in and out of your gaping walls just to drive your bodies into the pleasure of oversensitivity. You whimpered weakly, laying there used and ruined. Soft kisses could be felt on Hyunjin's skin "Come back to me, babies," Minho whispered, coaxing the both of you down from your orgasms. Hyunjin groaned, slipping his cock free from your tight grip "Shit, hyung. Look how pretty our darling drips," he rasped.

Minho gulped at the sight, tempted to pump your cunt into another orgasm but he knew your body was reaching its limit "Let's get you cleaned up, kitten," he whispered, carrying you bridal style to the bathroom. Hyunjin cleaned up the fluids, making sure nothing got stained from your little scene. Minho cleaned your body thoroughly "Stay awake a little longer, kitty. I made your favourite for dinner," he said, chuckling when your eyes blinked open. "There's our precious girl," he cooed, carrying you out of the tub. You giggled, nuzzling into his shoulder. Minho smiled, "Take a piss while I prepare your toothbrush," he said, helping you on the seat.

Hyunjin peeked his head in, hair damp from the quick shower he took "Is everything alright here?" he asked, seeing your body covered with a fluffy towel. Minho nodded, "All good. Could you plate up today's dinner, Jagi?" he asked, kissing Hyunjin's cheek. Hyunjin chuckled, kissing back "Of course," he said, moving towards you and cupping your face before placing a kiss on your forehead "I hope you learnt your lesson, brat," he teased, biting your cheek. You whined, "Never," you giggled, kissing Hyunjin's nose. Minho chuckled, "That's our girl," he said, patting your head. 

[plutoccult]

NO ME QUEDA MAS

pairing: hajime iwaizumi x female reader

description: iwaizumi’s wedding day was a day you dreaded for many years. now that the day had finally come, you regret never telling him how you feel.

word count: 1.6k

also available to read on my ao3 here

author’s note: finally, a new theme! i’m on an angst GRIND, you guys. been feeling really unhinged lately thanks to my girl @intorder for giving me fuel for angst, who also beta read this hurt piece. oddly enough, my life has been pretty good lately, so idk why i thought to write this. i’ve never written for iwaizumi before, but he came to mind first when i thought of this idea. this was definitely inspired by that one scene in 13 going on 30, but i made it hurt even more. i hope i did iwaizumi justice, and i hope you all enjoy without crying?

tags: @toorubobatea @intorder @dragon-slayer5 @jeanboyjean @femme-lune @darthferbert @kob3nie @thelazyhuevito @multi-fandom-fanfic @sterieshinso @kiiyomei @chrybdcsm @alienlatteinspace @abonbonblr @luverofutoshi @p3ritwinkle @juuzou13

taglist form here

“well? how do i look?”

iwaizumi turned around to face you as he showed off his suit. you couldn’t believe he was actually getting married today, and that the person he was marrying wasn’t you. it was hellish to shove your feelings down your throat for decades, especially when your friendship suffered god knows how many miles apart.

a part of you died the day he returned from california. you were so thrilled to see him, missing him so, but your heart shattered the second you saw he brought a girl with him. it was even worse when iwaizumi spoke to you about her, saying he felt like he knew she was the girl he would marry the second he saw her. you wanted to be that girl, and maybe you could’ve if you simply spoke up. after all, everyone always teased you two about ending up together growing up.

“you look great, iwa.” you force a smile. it wasn’t a lie, he was the most handsome man you’d ever seen, standing so proud and tall in his suit. not a single scratch or crease on his shoes nor any signs of wear in his jacket. as much as it pained you to see it, iwaizumi had grown up.

“you think so?” he asked, checking himself out in the mirror, scanning for any flaws in his outfit. “i could’ve sworn i saw lint on the back of my jacket.”

“oh, i can get it.” you offer. iwaizumi immediately said “yes, please” and “thank you” before you stood up to help him. his back faced you, shoulders as strong as ever, making this all the more difficult for you. if you were his bride, you probably wouldn’t be seeing him like this right now. it was bad luck to see the bride before the wedding, after all.

“how come your groomsmen aren’t up here helping you?” you ask, cursing yourself in your head for being so nosy.

“i’m sure you can understand i didn’t want oikawa up my ass before i go down there.” iwaizumi chuckled. you force yourself to copy his laughter, pretending as if you found this so hilarious. if oikawa were here, you wouldn’t be ridden with temptation right now. only he could stop you from saying things you knew you’d regret.

“i guess i should feel special then, huh?” you question. “be the first to see you like this…”

“mhm.” he replied, you see him nod in the mirror. “special privileges for my best friend.”

you felt your stomach tie up in knots as he said that. best friend. that’s all you were, that’s all you ever allowed yourself to be. it could’ve been you waiting for him at the altar, but instead you’re helping him get prepared to marry another woman, ready to beg him to run away with you.

you pretend to inspect the back of his jacket, knowing there wasn’t any lint anyway. it was absolutely flawless, just like him. this was torture for you, and you couldn’t stand another second longer.

“listen, iwa…” you begin to say. “i should tell you something before you go down there.”

“oh?” iwaizumi turned around to face you. you felt as if his eyes were piercing through your soul, making your heart race faster than it was before. “what is it?”

“i, um…” you hesitate. was it too late to go back? yes, yes it was. “i think you’re marrying the wrong girl today.”

“huh?” he furrowed his eyebrows.

“i mean, i think you should be marrying me instead.” you blurt out.

“y/n, what are you talking about?” iwaizumi questioned. this couldn’t be real, this couldn’t be happening right as he was about to get married.

“i’m in love with you, iwa. i love you.” you admit, your heart racing upon your confession. you should feel a weight being lifted off your shoulders, but something heavy still lingered on top of you.

“no…” he shook his head. iwaizumi had rejected the possibility a long time ago. even if he loved you just as long as you loved him, you were just too late.

“yes. i am.” you say.

“you’re saying this now?” he asked you. it almost made him want to laugh. life was just so funny, he thought to himself. why couldn’t you have said this before? why did you wait until he was about to get married? if things were different, iwaizumi would be reacting to this much differently right now.

“i know i should’ve told you before you went to california—“

“should’ve? i wanted you to!” iwaizumi interrupted you, much to your shock. “everyone said you were going to before i left! i just figured they were just messing with me afterwards…”

you remember telling oikawa how you felt about iwaizumi, it was his idea to tell him before iwaizumi left for california. you had it all planned out in your head, but as you stood there at the airport, you couldn’t find the words anymore. you chickened out, cursing yourself on the way home and the days that would come. it only made you feel worse when iwaizumi found someone.

what you didn’t know was that he expected your confession that day. you should’ve known oikawa would run his mouth. he always meant well, always hoping you’d end up with iwaizumi, but look at you now, a delusional fool.

“i was going to, iwa. i just got scared…” you confess to him. “if i could go back to that day, i’d do it differently.”

“well, you can’t turn back time, y/n. it’s too late.” he said coldly, almost like a stab to the heart.

“why not?” you ask, desperately clinging onto your delusions.

“i moved on.” iwaizumi replied. he might as well be twisting a knife, even if he was merely speaking the truth. “we've both gone down different paths, we both made choices, and this is what i’m choosing.”

“i just thought…” you began to say, but fall silent.

“just thought what?” he asked, raising his voice. “that i’d give up everything i’ve built for a last minute confession? one that i gave up on waiting for years ago?”

you don’t say anything. what was there to say? it was exactly what that sick part of you deep down expected. how stupid of you to think he would drop everything just because you finally had the courage to confess your feelings. if there wasn’t a whole wedding waiting to happen, maybe iwaizumi would change his mind.

you look away in shame. even if you didn’t speak your thoughts aloud, you still felt disgusted now that the reality of your confession hit you. you were terrible to think this way. not just a terrible person, but a terrible friend too. it was unfair to expect such a tall order out of him, especially now.

“my family’s down there, my soon-to-be in-law’s are down there.” iwaizumi said. “we care about each other, you know?”

“i know.” you say quietly as you bite your lip.

“y/n, you…” he let out a sigh. “you don't always get the dream house… but you get awfully close.”

you look up to meet his eyes, tears streaming down your face. to him, you were always the dream house. if only you had known that before, you thought. iwaizumi felt ridden with guilt rejecting you like this, and it didn’t help that you were crying your eyes out.

“please don't cry, y/n.” he begged you.

“what? no, i'll be fine, i promise.” you force out a laugh, no matter how much it killed you. you saw the look in iwaizumi’s eyes. he knew you weren’t truly okay, but he also knew that you were letting him go. it was the right thing to do.

“y/n…”

“it’s okay. i'm fine.” you wipe away your tears, trying your best to be strong. “i'm just crying because i'm happy. i want you to be so, so happy.”

you did, you wanted him to be happy. even if it wasn’t with you, you owed him the ability to be happy. it was the least you could do while you still had some of your dignity left.

“i love you, iwa.” you barely get the words out. “you… you're my best friend.”

you see iwaizumi’s eyes well up with tears, a rare sight to see. only you could produce such a reaction out of him. only you would truly have his heart forever, but life doesn’t always work out the way you want it to. it was just the way things go.

“i should go. everybody’s waiting for you.” you say, on your way out the door.

“y/n, i...” you stop in your tracks, waiting for what he’d say next, and it only crushed you even more. “i've always loved you.”

overwhelmed, you walk out of the room in tears, ready to bolt out of the venue without another thought. oikawa found you on your way out, asking what was wrong and where you were going, but when he saw mascara running down your face, he knew exactly what happened, and he knew he should’ve been there to stop it.

you insist to oikawa that he tell iwaizumi you were sorry before you finally left the venue. you couldn’t stand to be there a second longer, you just had to get out of here. as you head to your car, you hear the beginning of the wedding march play. the sound brought you to your knees as you violently sobbed. if this was rock bottom, then you finally reached it.

as much as you wanted to cry there forever, you force yourself to get up, finally finding the strength to get into your car. you didn’t know where you were headed, but you knew you had to drive off somewhere far away from here. if only you could just turn back time.

© plutoccult / 310802. please do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my content in or outside of tumblr. reblogs are appreciated <3

[pro-mammonologist]

I've got some headcanons!

Even though Mammon's far from a virgin by the time he and MC get together, he doesn't last very long the first few times they have sex because he's so excited to be with them.

As a dom, I think Mammon would lean more towards being fun and caring than a Hard Strict Daddy Dom™️. He can be firm, but he doesn't want to come across as harsh, and the idea of giving them an Actual Punishment leaves a bad taste in his mouth. He's got a long history of being punished. He also won't be very comfortable with degrading MC. He'll call them stuff like "my slut," but anything relating to their worth or intelligence is a hard limit for him.

Degradation is a hard limit for him as a sub, too. He'll let MC tie him up if they want, under the condition that they don't leave the room until after he's been untied. He's into impact play (specifically caning), electrostimulation, and wax/temperature play. Probably (definitely) more but that's what my mind is fixated on rn lol

He's 100000% got a praise kink (big shocker, I know). If he's subbing, he needs plenty of praise throughout aftercare. If he's domming, he still needs some praise - but that's got more to do with reassuring him that he did well and didn't hurt them, and can wait until the post-scene discussion

He loves giving and receiving overstimulation. He's greedy for his own pleasure as well as MC's. He likes to be edged - well, he likes the payoff - and could be talked into short-term chastity, but I couldn't see him being alright with anything longer than 24 hours (especially if there's a chastity device involved).

He *could*, in theory, edge MC. But he caves almost as soon as they start begging.

I have sooooo many more headcanons about Mammon as both a dom and a sub (and I'm more than happy to share) but I need to go to bed lol

Also, I love your blog! I'm so glad there's someone else who loves Mammon so much!

-- 🐦‍⬛ anon [this is my first time submitting an ask - is this nickname taken?]

I am going to address all of these individually.

1. Yes. Accurate. And I feel like the demons have low expectations for humans sexual prowess since humans have a lower tolerance for everything and also the fact that since they are western demons, they likely have interacted with the western hemisphere the most and anyone who has take a history class can tell you it’s been puritan af up until the 60s.

Also to add on to that. He’s not as embarrassed by the fact that he’s cumming fast but due to the fact he’s cumming insanely fucking hard to the point he can’t do as many rounds.

2. He’s a cocky ass bastard when he doms. He can try to be hard but he’s the kind to immediately melt after Mc does something too cute. He’s mostly cocky and teasy and praisey. And also he’s nervous about degradation too. The only way he’d do it is if you gave him very detailed and precise instructions or if he was like in a random context “damn you’re a real slut for some bacon” and then he gets scared that he offended you but you’re like “I’m a slut for you mammon.” And then he’s just shook to his core.

3. Yeah for real, he’ll be your slut and that’s about it. Mammon won’t do anything to Mc he wouldn’t want done to him. Bondage kinda pisses him off in my opinion like— he’d be for it but then he’d be like 😡😡😡 “let me out I’m losing it” and not in a cute pathetic way but in a damn whys he look so pissed?

Electro. Yes. Wax. Yes. Temperature. Yes. But I gotta know why you think he likes caning I cannot see him liking pain toys that much. I can see the sensational side of his masochism but like something real hard??? Nah he’s a baby. I just can’t see it.

4. Yeah there’s no discussion there. I think people are weird if they don’t have a praise kink. For mammon he goes nuts for it tho.

5. Yes, he’s the greediest most eager bastard out there and I can see him always down for it too. If he’s not down for it, then he really really really needs to rest or relax and maybe sex shouldn’t have been on the table period. Mammon wouldn’t edge for long, he likes the idea, but the actual wait kills him. And yea, chastity might kill him too and he’d have some hard ass limits. I feel like he wouldn’t like a device at all. Shit I can’t even see him going past 24 minutes, let alone a whole day with a device. He likes pressure and pain but he doesn’t like having his greed suppressed that badly. Of course, who knows, if Mc begs he’d do anything.

6. Yeah…. He’d cave so hard. He’d push and push and push himself to edge Mc but fail after making them hold back 2 times.

Mammon also is (in my mind) the most shy about his kinks because he’d face bullying whether he’d dom or sub sooo. Him getting to admit everything would be so hard.

Also no, it’s not taken.

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐓𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 || 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_𝐀 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐐𝐙. 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐲𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤. 

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐏, 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐦𝐚, 𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓 + 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟. NO PROOFREAD

𝐀/𝐍_ 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐑𝐄𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐌𝐄, 𝐈 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐓. 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐃𝐎𝐍’𝐓 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬. 𝐈𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐚𝐲 𝐘𝐞𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐑𝐞𝐲. 𝐔𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬!!!!

✰ 𝙄𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙓 (𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚) (𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙢.𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙤)

♪ ♫ 𝙋𝙀𝘿𝙍𝙊 𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙔𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏 (𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩)

The shower stops. 

Joel is calm but hurries to gather his clothes and dress again. You do the same. Because you didn’t want to make Tess walk on a scene. 

When you placed back to place your sports bra, a slight pain appeared in your right breast. When you look down, there are some hickeys, red but slowly turning purple and green. 

You offer Joel a little smile. But he doesn’t reply. He only leaned to tie his boots and stand up. 

You shouldn’t feel sad because of that. You knew he would always be like that. It was just sex.

“Here…” When you raise your head, he’s offering you a towel. With red cheeks burning your entire face, you clean the white sticky mess between your legs. 

“Thanks…” sometimes you wonder how you ended up in that situation with Joel. When did both of you cross the line?. 

Well, you knew. It was that night when he kissed you in the kitchen. You felt it was wrong. However, a nasty feeling would creep over you whenever you remembered Tess and him were a thing. You didn’t dare to ask Joel.

“We are coming back after curfew. Don’t wait for us. Lock the door immediately after we leave. Okay?” You can’t nod. Because you want to go with them. You want to meet the kind couple of men that offered spinach, lentils, and lots of things that were helping you survive. Bill and Frank had everything. Frank had talked to you many times and you hated to see Joel and Tess leaving every time to go to them.

“Could I join you two one day?” Tess came out dressed and ready to go, she heard you, and just as she did, she smirked at you.

“Outside of the QZ? I don’t think so, petal. You can barely go to work at the clinic. Just sit and look pretty for now” your jaw clenches. 

“Everyone works their ass to survive. Even me, even when I’m sick and everything.” She turns to look at you. Maybe startled by your defiance to fireback. Joel crossed his arms, wondering if Tess would yell at you.

“Good damn thing to know. Because we risk our lives every 60 days just to get your medicines, kid. The least you can do is shush, sit, and look pretty playing the nurse”. She didn’t know shit about what you did in the clinic. She didn't know the pressure and the pain of the people. Joel can see how angry you are, finding it admirable how you are breathing to control yourself. 

“Fine. Sorry, and thank you for everything. Now I have to go because a poor woman is waiting for the toy nurse to fucking sew her legs and open her lungs to breathe again. Have a safe day…” you explain calmly. The bag you take every day to work is under the bed. You can see Joel and Tess exchanging looks when you reach to get it. Probably complaining about you. Quietly, you make your way out of the room. Immediately followed by Joel. 

“Wait for a damn second…” he whispers, grabbing your wrist and pulling you close to him. Near the door, with you almost leaving, he offers you an apologetic look. But he doesn’t say anything, as usual.

“What?” You ask tiredly. 

There’s that head tilt he always does when he has a lot to say but remains quiet. 

“Be safe…” Exhaling loudly, you want to punch him. His hand is still wrapped around your wrist. His skin is warm. And he had said so much with his touch earlier in his bed. But now, back to normality, he was cold. Even when his holding was trying to tell you that he cared. You couldn’t feel it.

“Sure, Joel…” With that said, you sprint out of the apartment. Leaving the man behind with some guilt in his chest.

Every night, there you were, stirring something in the kitchen. Always finding a way to serve him a decent plate of food and ask about his day. Obediently helping him anytime he was struggling and Tess wasn’t home. Patiently waiting for him to take your body and dive into the pleasure of sex. And he couldn’t offer you anything back. Because he promised he would never fall in love again. 

Then why did he feel safe talking to you in the darkness of night in his bed?

——-

Scarlet drops of blood stained your shirt. A man almost chopped his finger while working. The hell of the Boston QZ was absolutely vile. 

“I don’t have antiseptic right now, sir. I can only avoid an infection with pure alcohol,” the man growls in pain. He must be around his late sixties. He’s friendly but curses a lot.

“Whatever you have, kid. This already hurts like a bitch” You offer him a little smile before gently grabbing his other hand and spreading some alcohol in the wound. He closed his eyes and squeezed your hand.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, breathe. Hey, breathe…” The man looked into your eyes, following your voice. He tried to breathe and relax. He doesn’t even look when you stitch the loosened skin of his hand and finger.

“You have been blessed with those fucking hands, kid. Thanks…” You nodded as you watched him leave.

Again alone in the clinic. A typical day in your new life. Summer was approaching, and your first anniversary since you started living with Joel and Tess too.

Life is lonely, even when you live with two adults. Your family was gone, and as their bodies were burned, your laugh, smiles, and a spark was gone too. 

Joel, on midnights, was the only person who could make you feel a little better. And that’s a lot coming from a man that usually treated you like shit.

And even when you tried, they would always scold you, just like the argument of the morning last week. Things had been awkward with Tess since the beginning It was evident she disliked you but tolerated you. Maybe secretly, you knew she thanked you for cooking stuff she liked. 

You ended your shift at 6:00 pm every day. It was no different. Just the kindness of a woman who needed a piece of glass out her arm made a difference.

She saw a big smile on your face, followed by the kindest thank you you’ve ever heard.

You’re happy because of that. A little spark of hope that would make your day better... You would sneak into the back of what was your old house. The construction was destroyed and burned by FEDRA after the incident with your family. Still, after checking once some months ago, you noticed the land wasn’t infected. The little garden your family had was still alive. 

That’s how you got fresh vegetables for you and your party. Avoiding sharing exactly where the greens came from. 

Squash, onion, radish, mint, and beet. All skillfully placed in your backpack so it wouldn’t draw any attention from FEDRA or noisy people. 

The world spins once you stand up. It frightens you. You know you’re not clean from anemia. Now you were working again, and you could do everything independently, unlike at the beginning. But you were still ill.

Once you feel better, you quietly leave what was your house, making you feel sorrow and a deep pain in your chest. 

There’s a small market that day. Selling useless stuff, like tools and radios, but you only have eyes for a cassette player. It’s pretty, looks like new, and the poor man selling it offered you less than what you expected. You end up giving him half of your credits. You thank him because he gave you a cassette to play David Bowie and Nancy Sinatra.

More than okay.

FEDRA starts announcing that curfew is closer, only 45 minutes away, which alerts you. 

Joel and Tess might still be out. Maybe they went to Bill and Frank's again. Or their missions are taking longer.

Either way, you are so happy to show them the cassette player. The other night they were saying how much they would like to listen to music again since Tess’s player was starting to show damage.

That old device could light up the depressing apartment. 

There’s mold in the hallways that connect the rooms. Smells like dust and feels like it was hunted at night. 

That encourages you to walk faster towards your door. It creaks, and the lights of the little kitchen are on. They’re home.

They’re talking, but you can’t hear very well. Suddenly, Joel’s head pops from the door frame.

“Where the hell have you been?” He sounds irritated after seeing you. Literally stomping, followed by Tess, who also appears before you.

“It’s past curfew. Are you mad? We don’t have time to worry for you” Constantly, Tess makes you want to roll your eyes. However, you don’t. You only push the brown bag harder against your chest. 

“I got to work an extra hour. And there was a market today. The one on Tree Line Avenue?” Joel rolled his eyes, and Tess sighed. 

“What were you doing alone there?” Joel asked calmly, but his face showed irritation.

You knew he had a soft side for you in private. But this was a little exaggerated. However, little did you know that Joel was freaking out the entire hour after your shift. 

“It was on my way. Jesus, Can we take a sip of normality? It’s not the first time I come home slightly late,” you say, sighing, taking a seat on the table and placing the brown bag in front of you, along with your bag.

“What part of it’s dangerous outside you don’t understand?” Joel asks you from behind. You’ve been out of the QZ. When your family lived, they took you out. Your father was respected by FEDRA because of the deals they made in Boston when you arrived there. You knew what world was that you lived in.

“I believe I’ve been aware of the twisted world we live in since I have memory” A couple of adults know what you mean. You were tiny when the infection started. You have been living in a broken world since always.

“You are so careless. We don’t need to deal with you and your bullshit” Again, the anger wants to start boiling you. 

“I’m also getting tired of both of you and this shitty treatment,” Joel notices that the argument is escalating. He doesn’t need this. Everything could be acceptable. But there was a constant stress that got in the way and complicated everything.

“We have been nice to you. Stop being an immature brat” You shake your head at Tess’s words. 

“That’s not true…” you whisper. You’ve been good, patient, and thankful.

“You can’t play these games nowadays. You had your family that already knew every movement of the city. Now you’re alone. It’s not safe” Joel didn’t mean to trigger any memory of your family. And once he spilled the words out, he regretted it.

“Stop…” you say, already feeling some tears coming out.

“You’re gonna cry? Seriously?. We’re just telling you to be smart. Mommy and Daddy are gone, and now you have to be responsible. If it wasn’t for us, you’d be dead” That’s enough. Your palms hit the table. Startling the couple.

“SHUT UP!” You yell at both of them. Your face was red and wet from the tears that kept falling uncontrollably. 

“The shit you two had seen over 29 years, I witnessed it in less than 24 hours. All these years, you have been dealing with grief. I have been shoving mine in my ass for 10 months. And you two can’t stop treating me like garbage? And quit expecting me to stop being human” you spit with venom at them. 

“Be fucking moral and accept you two just use me to let out the stress and anger” You violently grab the bag and walk towards the door again. Joel follows you.

“…y/n. Where do you think you’re going?” He asked hurriedly. But you ignore him.

“I was buying a gift for you two at the market. Because I’ve been so fucking thankful to you two for everything. Go on, say I’m a stupid girl to use my credits on that instead of saving it. Assholes…” is the last thing you say before closing the door.

Joel sighs, covering his face before going to follow you.

“Where are you going?” Tess asks him. The man turns to look at her, frustrated.

“I’m not letting her go out. It’s already past curfew…” he says as if it was the most obvious thing.

“Maybe she would learn alone….” Joel looks at her indignant. Walking back towards the woman.

“You are the one who told me to take her under our wing… Remember?” She looks away from him.

“Tess, Are you fucking jealous of her?” He asks demandingly. Because they had something going on for years. They were a little family. But things worked better if they weren’t romantically involved. And she was the one who suggested it some years ago.

“No, Joel, I’m not fucking jealous of a kid. But I can’t help feeling my blood boiling every time she does something stupid, and we have to pull her away like a baby trying to grab a knife,” she spits out. Brushing some hair away from her face and walking towards the living room, she suddenly stopped. 

“But… I also feel something. I ain’t no touchy, you know that. However, I feel an awful feeling in my chest every time she’s smiling and acting like we don’t live in this shit hole,” Joel sighs, analyzing her words. Tess was his…well, his. But now things were changing. You made that change.

“She’s trying, Tess. She took her whole family's lives with her own hands. I found her fucking dying. She’s fucking trying. Don’t blame her for a smile,” she laughed bitterly. 

“You do the same. Only being soft when you want to get under her pants” Tess raised her eyebrows, forming an O with her lips. She was mocking Joel.

“How-?” He tried to ask but failed.

“How do I know you are fucking that girl?. Last month I was greeted with her naked back on top of you,” and even with that, Joel didn’t feel shame. 

But he didn’t like that Tess had to see.

“Why do you think I have been taking the deals at night?” everything falls into an awkward silence. Joel is losing time. He could be making you come back. But simultaneously, he knows he has to talk with Tess.

“You’re jealous…” the woman shakes her head away. Tess was tough. She liked to leave things clear but avoid feelings. That’s why Joel knew her very well.

“No…” he sighed, walking towards her and grabbing her arms.

“You decided to drift apart from me, Tess. You told me it was better this way. And… let’s be honest, she does a lot for us” Tess looked directly into his eye, avoiding him. Although she had no other choice than to answer.

“Do you love her?” The question left Joel frozen. He stood quiet for a few seconds. But he knew the honest answer.

“No.” He said firmly. Yet, Tess smirked nonchalantly. 

“But you’re closer to loving her than you ever did with me,” she also said firmly, stating her words. When Joel kept looking at the wall instead of Tess, she brushed past him.

“Whatever. You’re right. I seized our contact. And I don’t regret it.” She wasn’t lying, either. “I treat her like she was a spoiled kid. I hate because she’s too damn good, and it frustrates me that she had a happy life before her family was gone.”  

“Tess, you know it’s not been easy,” she nods. “Even she knows it’s hard. All we’ve been through, she has felt it in less than a year. And yet, she is trying to smile and thank us however she can” The man can’t help but respond in your favor. Because the urge to protect you has grown since he got to know you a little more.

“Yeah. Maybe she lights up this depressing place,” she admitted, pointing at their surroundings. Joel nodded.

“We need her as much as she needs us. I’m not willing to let her go” Joel didn’t mean to sound romantic or desperate for you. But deep down, he was. 

“And what was the “ Tess stopped, opening the brown bag you left on the table. She opened the wrinkled suitcase and took out the device.

“Shit…” she whispered, then handed the device to Joel. Who sighed, feeling worse, the cassette player just existing over there. “This girl is going to kill me.”

Joel felt Tess and a wave of remorse drowning her. But he also felt affected. Since he knew he could have done better for you. 

The cassette of Bowie and Sinatra was there judging them.

“Goddamit…” he whispered. You bought them a cassette player and spent a significant part of your credits on them. 

“You go to the east. I’ll go to the West. If we don’t find her in 40 minutes, we return” Tess nodded. Both grabbed their backpacks and started to look after you.

But that night, they couldn’t find you. They looked everywhere where FEDRA couldn’t catch them. And there was no sign of you.

That night, at 3:00 am, Joel went to sleep with a fear he hadn't felt since the outbreak. He couldn’t close his eyes for more than a few minutes. Waking up to gasp for air. Panic attacked him when he remembered you weren’t there sleeping by his side or heavily breathing on the couch. 

He needed you. He needed that sense of security he had when he felt your skin against him. 

——-

The floor of the clinic is cold. But as the summer arrives, the cold is a blessing. You couldn’t take the bed where hundreds of sick and infected had rested. 

But as you start to wake up. Flashes of the last night assault you again.

You hate being scolded. 

You weren’t a baby; you provided them food. Entering the place that traumatized you for life, only to collect fresh vegetables. You cleaned their apartment and clothes. All while working 10 hours in the clinic. 

You would always thank them, especially Joel, for risking their lives to get your medicines. The man saved you. He fed, bathed, dressed, and checked on you initially. Tess found the iron supplements and the inhalators with Bill and Frank. But they did that arduous journey every two months. You helped them every damn day. 

They were lucky to have the most excellent nurse living among them. And still, it wasn’t enough. 

From Tess, you didn’t expect anything.

From Joel, you wanted compassion and, secretly…love.

How could you not feel anything for the man that saved your life?

But how could you even think about love when he never showed affection?

After the argument last night, you realize Joel had never cared for you. And you were out of his life because you left home.

Home, that place was never your fucking Home.

All those mornings in the kitchen, folding clothes, acting like a housewife from the ancient world. All lies your own head created. 

The sun peeks through the thin curtains. And the rays are hot and potent. Hitting your eyes directly, making you uncomfortable.

There’s an hour left till everyone is awake. The routines would start, and FEDRA couldn’t know you would live in the clinic. 

You use the shower and start getting changed. You would have to go to the apartment for your stuff, which made you cringe. The thought of encountering Tess or Joel. Especially, Joel, that didn’t sound pleasant.

“Fuck…” you mutter. You left the cassette player. Fucking assholes, you curse at the evil couple you used to live with. 

And that tears Joel, the damn cassette player, playing Starman of Bowie. He wakes up knowing you’re gone. There’s no breakfast for him and Tess. The curtains weren’t open, and your gracious figure wasn’t reflected on the wall as usual, braiding your hair and getting ready to work.

The door of the entrance slams, and Joel knows Tess is coming. 

She opens the door and throws his backpack at him.

“They saw her in the clinic….” Joel’s eyes spark at the thought of you. He stands up and accommodates his backpack.

“Let’s go then…” No more words are exchanged. They silently walk towards the clinic.

The streets are empty, maybe minutes away from being full of people working and suffering. Both should be on their way to work, but they have contacts. Contacts that are good to go with a bribe.

However, Joel doesn’t feel confident. His hands are sweating. And as he takes the little stairs of the entrance, his heart pounds. A mix of feelings invaded him, but he needed to know you were okay.

Both easily open the doors and quietly sneak in. Joel had a vague thought of the clinic reminding him of that old video game of Silent Hill and the killer nurses. Because the place was creepy.  

A long hallway covered with doors was the whole building. Maybe some exits in a few rooms, but it was a claustrophobic dream.

Joel held his gun softly as Tess guided the way because he knew he wouldn’t be accompanied, but his instinct would always act before him. 

And instinctually, he pointed at whatever opened the door of a random room. But as his tall figure obstructed the way, another weight fell upon him; you.

He grabbed you quickly, preventing you from ending up on the floor.

Confused, you looked up.

“Joel?” you asked, feeling his strong hands around your body. Instantly, you shook away from him, looking at him and then at Tess.

“I’m not in the mood for this. Get out…” you patiently say, breathing peacefully, calming yourself. 

“No. We are talking….” Your patient vanished. Pointing at the door, you look at the couple with anger.

“Get out before I call an agent,” Tess sighed. 

“Listen, we’re sorry. We shouldn’t have treated you that way. You’re right. We’re adults, and we should act like it” You are surprised by her words, but you are good at saving face.

“Yeah, no shit. Thanks for the words, but I’m going to get my things tonight,” you explain. “Now get out..”

“Okay…” Joel says, and while you don’t want him to beg, you don’t want to see him go. But he surprised you by talking with your arms and pushing you inside an empty room, keeping Tess outside.

“¡Hey! Let me go, asshole” Joel rolls his eyes and keeps all his weight on the door, blocking it.

“No. Shut up and listen” Crossing your arms, you wait expectantly.

“Yeah, I’m an asshole.” He starts saying. Dark bags are under his eyes, and his hair is messy as always. Yet, you can’t resist those beautiful eyes he has. “We’re basically a team. We help you. You help us. And we should feel lucky to have the embodiment of an angel with us nowadays.” 

You try so hard to hide your blush and smile. Because it’s the first time he says something like that.

“I-I care for you, Okay?. I couldn’t sleep all night because I was so worried for you. And this morning, you weren’t there to make it better. Because, cause-, you make everything better” stunt, you only look at him in disbelief. He must’ve seen that because his arms reached your hands. The touch left you even more stunned. Joel had never been this warm. 

“I mean it, y/n. I don’t think I can get used to fitting a routine again without you”. You don’t want to look desperate, but unconsciously, you jump to kiss him.

He corresponds immediately. Joel can’t help but welcome your kiss, even when he shouldn’t. 

“Then don’t treat me like this ever again. And I’ll stay as long as you want me” This time, he kissed you again. Your soft lips enchant him. But the moment is interrupted by Tess.

She stood awkwardly until both of you watched her there.

“There’s people coming. We need to go,” she said. You knew that their job was more dangerous than yours.

“Go…” you whisper to Joel, who’s still lingering on your lips. 

“Are you coming home?” Home, that fucking word. There was still a lot to talk about with him yet. But for now, you have some hours to think about it.

“I’ll consider coming back today while I work,” you roar, letting Tess know. 

“Hey. You know I was serious back there, right?” She asks, avoiding your eyes. She's embarrassed.

“Yeah…” you say back.

“Then, No hard feelings?” You tilt your head at her question. 

“I guess not.” Both nod. But you won’t be the same again. Life has given you too many bruises as you grow, slowly changing you forever.

Tess offered you a little smile and left again, telling Joel to come too.

“Please. Come back,” Joel whispered once again. Making you feel some adorable feelings toward him. Joel was a broken man, and he met you freshly shattered.

“I’ll consider it,” he smirked. Holding your hips, he gently pushed you against the room's desk. His lips met yours again, this time softly and slowly. 

After some seconds, he grasped some strands of your hair and finally left.

The first thing you spot on the desk is a dandelion. Joel told you about an empty and abandoned yard of dandelions some months ago. He got one just for you.

Maybe he would never love you, but he could get used to you. 

—

“Hey. Earth calling y/n,” you snap out of the memory. Ellie is looking curious at you. You are in the backyard of your house in Jackson.

When you look further into the grass, your husband, Joel, looks worried at you. He’s sitting on a blanket with Cerise in his arms. She’s turning two months old. Your daughter looks like a little ball on his father’s chest.

“Are you okay?” You nod.

“Yeah, just a memory of Boston. Of Tess, to be honest,” Ellie widened her eyes. She remembered you crying when the older woman got infected. She told you that you were more than capable of going with Joel to deliver Ellie. 

“Do you miss her?” You remain quiet.

“I’m not sure. But things would be… different if she was here” Joel isn’t hearing. But his mind is working. Afraid you have developed these moments of trance little after Cerise was born. However, he smiles when you come closer to sit beside him and the baby. Ellie stays near the kitchen entrance, painting on the chalkboard wall Joel made for Cerise and her.

“Everything okay?” You nod, leaning to kiss him passionately. 

“Just got lost in my man,” he smirked. 

“Wait a little, and I’ll get lost in my girl, too,” you giggle playfully at him. 

You leaned, accommodating in the chest of the man who was your husband and the love of your life.

———————————————————————————————————-

Taglist: @aonungs-tsahik @buckysmainhxe @amethystwonders11 @kyuupidwrites @bookfrog242 @acornacreacure @enbywan @ipadkidsworld @my-obsession-spn @happycupcakeenthusiast @thesameoldboo @spideysimpossiblegirl @tubble-wubble @flightlexsbird @randomstory56 @memento-morazu @royalty-cashinout @ayamenimthiriel @eddies-bat-tattoos @kassieesworld @damnzelsoul @floffytofu @rintheemolion @coldheartedmar @woofgocows @d4rno @marantha @floralsightings @pedro-pascal-3nthusiast @holb32 @harperdoodle @daddy-din @mxtokko

[peachyloveswriting]

If u can ...mmm can u do like ... Basycally they are in a fight (Vash,Wolfwood and you) there are many gunshots but in the end wolfwood and Vash beat the criminals thinking that it was ok and fine but then they hear gasp and "g...guys..." as they turn they saw y/n shaking looking at them with one hand holding the bullet wound in the chest,the other full of blood, then they fall on their knees and they panic,crying saying that it hurts, saying that they don't want to die,so they clench on him, then Vash trying to stop the bleeding?

U can put like some reassuring Vash and wolfwood saying that help his coming,crying and all that,also the bullet was out and leaved a huge gap?

U can be as detailed as possible or put so much pain yada yada,blood and all

I'm gonna read the writing u did now

I absolutely love this idea. I think I'll need some fluff or something other than angst after this though lol. I love angst but too much and I'm burnt out for sure.

PLEASE STAY --- Vash & wolfwood

SUMMARY: Everyone was in check right? They got all the bad guys. Everyone was okay, right? Seems they've sadly struck an unlucky mine.

Warning: Blood, hella angst

NOTES: I'm leaving this written as is, sorry but I just can't find it in myself to write the ending at the moment. I would have written it later then posted it but I figured I'd get this out the way first.

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

"Was that the last one?" Nick turns to Vash with his cross ready to fire again. Taking a simple glance around, Vash nods his head with a small smile.

"Yeah, that-" Vash is cut off by a loud gasp. Turning to look behind him, his skin grows ice cold. Both men swear they can feel their hearts stop when they look. On your knees you shake and shudder in fear, blood spills over your hand from where it clutches your chest tightly. You can't feel it but the blood is so warm against your skin and the bullet in your body feels so cold.

"G... Guys?"

Nick's cross falls to the ground with a loud thud as he rushes to your side, his hands clutching your shoulders as he looks you over. "Oh god." He stammers. The cigarette delicately placed between his lips falls between his knees, he can feel you shaking in his hands. A spike of panic rises in his chest and his throat squeezes. Behind him, Vash watches the scene unfold in horror. Frozen in place, his heart pounds in his ears. Was this happening?

"Fuck! Make it stop, make it stop! It hurts, fuck it hurts!" You clench your eyes shut in pain. The initial shock has worn off leaving you stripped bare to the pain settling in your bones. If you could dig yourself a hole and never come back, God you would. Fisting Nick's shirt with a scream, you slip against him, your forehead resting on his shoulder.

"I'm going to die. I don't want to die. Nick, I don't wanna die." If there's anything 'The Punisher' should be well versed with, it's death. This, he knows better than anyone. Watching the light fade from someone's eyes as they shudder their last breath and slump limply into the ground. He always watches nonchalantly, not a single emotion stirring inside his chest. But now, it's burning alive with fear and anxiety.

"Vash! Do something!" The death of another has always been inconsequential to him but as you shake and sputter in his arms, blood gushing from your chest while you scream in pain, he feels a switch inside of him flip on like a light. After all these years, it's finally coming back to bite him in the ass.

Vash appears beside him with a torn flap of fabric from his cross cover. Pulling you away from his body he tenses, watching you limply flob around like a discarded rag doll. Vash leans forward, his arms wrapping around you to tie the cloth around your chest. The hand covering the wound falls limply at your side as he tightens the cloth down. Vash extends his arms to take you.

"c'mon, c'mon..." He urges Nick to pass you to him. As gently as he can, Nick places you in Vash's arms bridal style. "It's going to be okay. Don't worry. I've got you now." Vash takes off running, leaving Nick to hurriedly gather his cross and join the chase.

"Just how do you think we're getting help?" Nick asks as he finally catches up to the blonde. He's pointedly staring ahead, his eyes fixated on the closest running truck.

Coming to a stop at the door Nick pulls it open and raises a gun to the driver. "Get out or your next."

Eyes wide with fear, the driver dies out of his seat and onto the dusty ground. Taking his cross he throws it into the bed of the truck and rushes to the other side, where he climbs into the driver's seat and waits for Vash to settle in. The moment that door closes, the tires are kicking up dirt.

"There's a doctor at the far end of town. Hurry." Vash tells him as he looks down at you in his arms. Your shaking profusely, your hands reaching to tug at his jacket. The world around you feels like it's frozen over and it's hard to keep your eyes on anything. "Vash... I'm cold. Please..." You whine. He hushes you. "Don't worry." Carefully his arms slip from underneath you to slide his coat off.

"Just relax." The coat drapes over your entire body and surrounds you with a shield of warmth but it's not enough. It feels like Ice is still building in your veins. Everything going on at once is running your body thin, making your eyes grow heavy and sleep weight in the back of your mind. No matter how hard you peel them open, blinking holds them shut while you struggle to wake back up.

"I can't keep my eyes open." The truck slows to a stop and both the doors fly open.

"Don't fall asleep!" Nick yells as he reaches your side. Still in Vash's arms you struggle to open your eyes again, something calls to you in your head. It begs for you to succumb to the darkness but you refuse.

"Keep your eyes open. Look at me." Vash begs.

Running into the building, Nick rushes to the front desk. "We need medical attention right now. There's been a bullet wound to the shoulder and they're losing conscience." He stammers.

The woman behind the desk stands and runs to Vash's side. "Come with me baby." She places a hand on his back and hurriedly pushes forward towards the operating room. Behind them follows Nick who struggles to keep up. The woman is talking to you, lightly slapping your face to keep you awake. It works for the most part but you can't bring yourself to move. You've lost too much blood.

"Emergency. Coming in!" She yells holding the door open to usher them in. The doctor perks up at the four of you entering. Upon seeing you he frowns and gestures for you to be laid on the table. Gingerly, Vash places you against the cold bed, his coat still covering your shivering body. He watches in horror while the lady starts to guide him away from you, pushing back against her he watches you turn to look at him.

"Please stay."

The door shuts in his face and for the first time, Nick watches him crumble to the floor; his head held in his hands while sobs wrack his body. The ever joyful, Vash, was crying.

Nick couldn't find it in himself to keep watching, just hearing Vash cry was enough to make his own eyes water. Turning away to leave, he pulls a cigarette from its pack and brings it to his lips. As he walks away, he starts to hope that you'll recover quickly, that way he won't ever have to see you like that again. Looking down to slide his cigarettes in his pocket he finds his suit covered in your blood. You lost so much... A blood transplant was surely needed. Between him and Vash he wasn't entirely sure if either of them would be of use in that matter but it darkens the sliver of hope in his heart.

Stopping him from straying any further away is Vash's hand around his wrist. Just as Nick turns to face him Vash hugs him tightly. Sobs still fall from his lips and blood covers his entire torso. He doesn't bother to offer any comfort to the blond and instead allows him to cry to his heart's content against him. There's just not enough energy for him to care for another person besides himself.

[possibilistfanfiction]

I love Beatrice feels about Avas gender identity (or lack of). And how, for Beatrice, her womanhood is still an important part of her, even if she expresses that part differently than other women. And how Bea is just down for the ride when Ava experiments with their gender expression, just endless support and love and just letting Ava try out whatever they want. Like the scene with the binder, Ava wasnt visibly uncomfortable or weirded out, she just said that it wasnt something for her, and Bea never discouraged her of trying it out by telling her that she wouldnt like it, or other masculine things that fit better, like the suit. So yeah, thanks for having someone like Ava who doenst give a fuck about how she "should" dress and act as told by society and then Beatrice, for whom womanhood is still an important part of, but she puts her personal own spin on it, so she still feels like herself and happy. So, yeah you said you already have two butch!Bea prompts, so I just wanted to request a Avatrice fic with some happy gender expressions/feels it doesnt have to be butch!Bea AU, if you want. But yeah, I love how you write Beas butch style but still in touch with her womanhood. (And of course her kicking ass in Aikaido class ;) )

‘wow,’ you say, a little breathless. ava grins, spins around in their tuxedo slacks and button down with the sleeves rolled up to their elbows, an old binder of yours that’s loose on them but still offers some compression underneath, paired with patent leather loafers and a tie loose around their neck. they’ve slicked their hair back neatly and are grinning, arms outstretched. ‘you look amazing.’

‘yeah?’

‘of course,’ you say, as if there was any other possibility. ava wraps her arm around your waist and looks in the mirror at the both of you together: it’s a little different, because you’re used to ava in the dresses and crop tops and flowy pants he loves, an old favorite pair of overalls — but it’s, like, really, really hot. you’ve learned through your friends and therapy and ava’s own deep exuberance around queerness that you really are in love in so many of its forms, the textures it takes and allows; while you feel much, much better and safer and more comfortable and at ease in yourself when you’re in loose, easy pants, your chest flat, your hair short, you have never begrudged ava their expansion. they’ve seen so, so much, lived through more pain than anyone should ever have to, so everything about them, even at their most annoying, is beautiful to you.

‘if i wore a packer into a cathedral, do you think i would be struck down or something?’

it takes a second too long for your brain to get unstuck from the heat that races down your spine; ava smirks. ‘are you —‘ unfortunately your voice comes out a little strangled and you have to regroup — ‘are you wearing one?’

‘nah,’ ava says. ‘thought about it, but these pants are kinda tight and if i have to sit through some dumbass pomp and circumstance at the vatican i’m at least going to be comfortable.’

you hum, the best you can do.

‘maybe i’ll wear it tomorrow with that new skirt i got in madrid though,’ she says, far too casual for the victorious expression on her face. 

‘well, you do know god best.’

‘that’s so true,’ ava says, preening again and then turning toward you. ‘gender expression, totally cool with god, if you can believe that.’

‘i suppose i can.’ ava’s smirk softens into an easy smile, one you revel in every time it’s for you, the way sunflowers turn toward the sun. 

‘plus, this little vest situation you have going on is, like, so hot. god can’t begrudge me your arms, not after all i’ve done.’

you huff at their obvious delight in flustering you, but it’s summer and very hot and, really, the light sweater vest you’d picked out to go with your very church-appropriate slacks is also quite tame. 

‘i love you,’ they say, softening again, and kiss your cheek. ‘now, let’s go scandalize some conservatives, shall we?’

you laugh, unable to resist ava’s warmth, again and again. ‘we shall.’

[mosscreeper-ao3]

The Voltron brain worms are eating me alive…

Tell your James Griffin headcanons to me oh wise one who came up with the Catholic guilt headcanon.

Can he cook? (I believe so, I believe he’s a great cook)

How do the other Paladins feel about him? Do they know about his history with Keith?

How does he feel about the Paladins?

What are his relationships like with the other MFE’s?

Do you think he has siblings? To me he screams only child.

I could really talk all day but I’ll shut up about this, for now…

Shout out to this ask for making me finally update my headcanon masterlist. (also I have some James headcanons there already here and here)

Okay first things first, if you enjoy my Catholic guilt James stuff you HAVE to go check out this art, this art, and this art by my mutual if you haven't already. They bring it to life so well and their technique is just *chefs kiss*.

He can definitely cook, and I see the Arab version enjoys making Arab dishes for his friends. He makes a full mezze (meza? meze? idk I can't write Arabic words in English for shit) for the MFEs first chance he gets.

I'd like to think Hunk and Pidge probably think of James as the smart kid from class that was definitely going places but probably didn't interact with him pre-series to form much more of an opinion on him. Lance probably hates his guts around the start of the series given how much he beefed with Keith. I do think Lance probably calms down and respects him as a pilot by the time the Paladins get back to Earth since he matures A LOT over those two years. As far as Shiro goes, I think James would be a bit of a regret for him. While he would never regret taking Keith in, I do think with how caring he is that he would feel a bit guilty that he brushed off a kid who looked up to him so much.

Hunk walked in on them kissing once, which I'll probably write at some point. Teenage Lance was probably too busy having a one sided rivalry with Keith (and being a bit self absorbed) to notice anything of the sort. Pidge probably knew as I think both James and Keith helped them bust into the Garrison. Shiro had no idea, as they got romantically involved after he disappeared. I have a scene in my main Jaith series where he's actually rather surprised that they're together.

After the Paladins get back, I see them all more or less having a respect for James if not being outright friendly. I think Allura would be really impressed by him when they meet. I mean, she clearly trusted going into combat alongside him.

On James' side, he has a VERY positive opinion of Shiro and never really stopped looking up to him. He respects Pidge's tenacity. Despite the blow-up at Hunk, I do think he also respects Hunk and admires how empathetic he is. Though he doesn't necessarily dislike Lance, he found him irritating back when they were classmates. All that said, I think he does harbor some resentment towards the Paladins as a concept. Chain of command and merit are both something he places high value on. I think the Paladins having some mystical connection giving them authority would definitely strike a nerve, at least at first. He comes around, but yeah I do not see him being thrilled with the concept of divinely granted authority (may or may not tie into his religious trauma oops).

I have some MFE headcanons here. The MFEs are very found family. Kinkade is his best friend and they roomed together all four years at the Garrison. Rizavi would kill for him but is also his number one pain in the ass (she takes very liberal interpretation of James' orders). Leifsdottir became friends with him by following him around vaguely like a lost dog for months their freshman year until he finally asked her what she was doing. They help eachother with math a lot because James is good at calc type stuff while Leifsdottir is more a stats person.

I personally think he's second youngest of four with two older brothers and a little sister. To me there's not way he isn't either a.) the middle youngest b.) an only child treated like a disappointment. He just has those vibes.

(also never shut up, I love gettign asks)

[alyjojo]

Past Life 📜 Karmic Spread September 2024 - Capricorn

Preshuffle: You wished for something and got what you wanted, but it wasn’t what you thought you wanted. Money & family are intertwined somehow.

Meditation: An Italian restaurant with an Italian family working inside, several children all do their part while the adults run the place. What starts as a dream come true turns into everyone getting under everyone’s skin over time. It becomes obligation, burden, chains, overwork, greed in some cases - The Devil. Capricorn 💯 I clearly heard “it’s not a restaurant,” so idk why they’re showing me one, but that’s the scene they’re giving to create the vibe.

~ The Past Life ~

Gender I’m Picking Up On (in the past life): Male, the head of a family business

Character Card: Harmony ☮️ - Sun Libra

Who You Were: King of Pentacles rev, 10 Swords rev, 5 Wands rev

What You Did: 9 Swords rev & The Sun

How It Ended: Knight of Pentacles

Oracles: Clover & Health

This past energy is cracking me up, you were a hoot and a half - and I look over to the current energy of heavy loss and wonder if you don’t still have some of that in you, I think you do. It’s buried. But that’s for later. You were a glorified scam artist 😆 With bragging rights. The example I’m being given now is like the only bait & tackle shop in the small ass town where the big lake is that others are staying at for the weekend. You want an extra $3 a worm for bait, but they pay it because the next closest one is 20 miles away. You were amused by this fact, having no competition and charging more for convenience, you celebrated it. That was the whole purpose of the business, to you. A++ sense of humor, it’s like you were greedy but people knew what they were getting into. “Next time they’ll know better, or I’ll be here with the bait.” 🪱 Still getting Italian, but not Italy, I’m not sure where this was taking place. A very big lake in the middle of nowhere. I just heard “a Great Lake”, near one of the Great Lakes, USA. Now I’m hearing Michigan - and that that will ring a bell 🛎️ to you, you currently have some kind of tie to that state, even if it was just an event you went to or something. I’m also seeing The Liberty Bell, which is in Pennsylvania, and a trip…you moved to Michigan. This describes the second half of your life, I’m not sure about the early parts, or the rest of your family, it’s being shown as irrelevant to this - move on lady.

You saw this with the right perspective, a source of income to pass onto your children - they ended up seeing it as a huge burden and probably sold it or closed up shop later - but you never knew that. You were proud, and had good intentions regardless of being kinda dodgy. Honestly dodgy, respectfully so, a business man after all. Clover & Health with this Knight of Pentacles is showing an accident that left you in a wheelchair - but it was fortunate however it happened, especially “at the time”. I’m hearing “no pain” but I’m not getting a what it is exactly. I’m not even seeing you go to a doctor, there might not have been one? Or you just handled it with some stubborn ass man-stitched DIY contraption probably. I do see a wheelchair. You couldn’t walk, or not very well/easily, if you could. I’m seeing you as getting used to it, still working, still showing up every day - it hardly affected you, you worked around it (built or made DIY things to help), very clever and resourceful - and you had children for help too - I’m seeing four or five of them. From about middle age on to the end, this was your state of being, and death shows up as natural…whatever that means. Easy breezy, for you.

~ The Present Life ~

What Karma Was Brought With You: Ace of Pentacles, Queen of Swords, 2 Pentacles rev

Who You Brought With You: The Fool rev

Additional energy: King of Wands rev & 9 Pentacles rev

Character Card: Loss 😞 - Saturn Pisces

Oracles: Coffin, Mother, Karmic Relationship

You are definitely a female in this life, a very strong feminine made of pure muscle, at least in the mind & emotions if nothing else. That is probably a trauma response but let’s continue. I’m seeing Luisa from Encanto, and with 4 Wands clarifying, I’m literally seeing the weight of the entire house on her shoulders. Such are you the backbone and strength of your entire family, even at an early age, because I’m seeing Mom show up as a mess. That may trigger you, but I’m hearing it needs to be said. The Devil clarifies her - at least her role to you. You are probably the oldest/only child, Mom may have been dependent on you for survival, or everyone else was because she was MIA. Drunk. Passed out. Gone mentally. Somehow unable. You stepped up 💯 I’m getting a spicy Latin vibe with this current life and these colors are giving me life, it’s unintentional on my end but not Spirit’s. I’m just now realizing the connection in colors & cultures here hello.

Your life is scarred by loss, and with Coffin that loss may be literal physical loss, connected to a Mother and a karmic relationship, you’ve lost both - either literally - you’ve had to mourn these people 😞 or you’ve had to end these connections for your own health’s sake. With the karmic, they’re shown as someone who had a secret you found out about, or if an actual death then this may show the autopsy bringing something to light. A funny autopsy, something isn’t right. One or both may be connected to drugs & addictions. Separately… you have a knack for finding financial opportunities, and spreading your resources thin to cover essentials, but you have a hard time finding things that last long-term. Solid opportunities. You could have experience with temp jobs, or you have floated from job to job with no real “career” moves, you just need money 💯

You’re not going to like this part 😜 There is a person around you that you give advice to all of the time, you’re like their personal cheerleader. They show up as someone that doesn’t have a lot of confidence, they don’t try to reach for their goals, they’re shy or afraid to take chances…not a risk taker. You’re always pushing them to reach for more - but you’re also the one that needs to, per Spirit. It shows you’re lacking in financial independence and comfort because you hold on to what you have and you’re too afraid (or negative minded) to branch out and try something new - Ace of Cups. That’s a fancy way of saying hypocrite. But they’re also saying IF you do, Ace of Cups is something connected to your heart, something you love 💗 and Inspiration at the bottom of the deck shows this being exactly the thing you feel like you’re missing. You’ve been too afraid to reach for this…could be a relationship, could be a hobby, I’m not sure. You’d know, it’s the thing you’re afraid of. Doing that would make you really happy, and the energy would switch paths, like a road sign pointing to Loss Lane and turning towards Inspiration Motorway - that’s how it’s shown to me idk, this could involve travel. What even is a motorway…what a strange choice. It’s a whole new kind of existence, is the point, but you have to consciously choose it, it won’t just happen to you.

Motorway - British/English word for a highway or freeway. Travel is here, are you planning a trip to Europe? …maybe you should?

[hambiichu]

Robotic (Red x Reader) AU

--------Partner--------

Blue was right when he advised you to decline Looker's offer. Even if you worked at this police station for years and decided that withering would be a better alternative than looking for better employment in this world of technological, you shouldn't have accepted it in the first place when is, not your prefences.

If Looker had said, in a more accurate way, that working with an android you can manage on your own will enhance your abilities as a detective and police officer rather than having you sit at a table all day, you would have laughed at his advice.

But you were a trusting employer, and you did what he said, without inquiry, like a puppy, because you can't refused and damn well he knows what's good for you like a father.

If only you had answered no, then none of this could have happened; you wouldn't be standing in front of a dead person, examining a crime scene with an android.

You think everything will be okay but no.

Tonight, you've assigned your first case with him and you already fed up.

"I assume you checked the evidences?"

His icy demeanour belies his warm brown eyes and his raised eyebrows, which are more akin to those of a labradoodle than a husky. You leapt at the sound of his voice, losing your stream of thought as your head snapped to the android.

His name was Red, and he wore a semi-formal grey jacket wearer with a white shirt, dark tie, and dark jeans. His model and serial number are on the right breast, a blue triangle is on the left breast, and a blue armband is on the right arm, which are the typical identification marks for androids on clothing. The words ANDROID, a larger blue triangle, and his model number, RK800, are printed over the shoulders of his jacket.

"No," You answered, clearing your throat as your eyes gaze back to the dead corpse. "Not quite, I am focusing."

Red-voiced lice with cold tones said, "But you need to be quick; we do not have much time; Looker would be disappointed." You fought the impulse to give him a hard gaze.

"I am," You gritted through your teeth, "Don't pressure me."

Red gave you one more cold glance, first at the vehicle as it drove to the victim's house then at a crime scene. He looked dissatisfied by your lack of awareness and your self consicious, which could have made things simpler, and called for a day.

You might not have recognised it before, but he gives off an air of superiority, technology, and a strong sense of self. Working with humans does not appeal to Red, and working with androids does not appeal to you either. Your two frigid walls won't be melting any time soon until Red demonstrates some compassion and understanding.

Imagine your surprise if androids were to demonstrate empathy and feeling, even though it hasn't been shown that they do.

"The Victim named Carlos, had been stabbed 28 times—"

You halt him to stop; you don't need to be reminded too much today because Red observed that you were lacking in ability, which irritated you; you've only known him for a day, and he's a pain in the ass. You are not the kind of person who should be around someone like him reminding you what to do.

Unless is your mistakes but not now to think about it.

"I already know what it is, is already in the case, you don't have to remind me." You crossed your arms, standing your ground. "And I do not need your word of advice for the second time of the day."

With his arms clasped behind his back and his torso bowed, Red leans in as though he's kissing you, giving off the vibe of a menacing preschool principal who can make anyone feel uncomfortable with his taunting, scary aura.

"Word of advice," He begins, "Improve your skills and your awareness in your surroudings, and your attitude towards me. Just because I am a android doesn't mean you have the rights to talk back to your superior beings, you humans are fragile souls and one thing for sure death is near at your door steps anytime soon unless someone kept an eye on you."

Finally, you shoot him an icy gaze, "Woah now! I only met you for a day. Why so hard ass? What are you gonna do, report me to Looker?"

"Perhaps I am," Red pulls away, he dropped his arms at his side, he kept his superior and icy words going, "Unless you do what Looker told us."

What an ass.

You carried out the duties of a police officer and detective. Although it happens to most people you know, it is not your fault if the two of you have a chilly, terrifying first impression. Blue was an exception; despite his potential for misbehaviour, you choose to trust him.

Contrarily, Red disliked misbehaviour. In fact, when you first met him at the station today, you attempted to lighten the awkward silence, but he took it seriously.

"I pity people like you making... what's this? Jokes?"

You only joke about his appearance and he took it seriously, what the fuck?

You can't go back now that you're here though. Subsequently, you followed Red's trail from the rear, scrutinising the android as he collected proof and indications from the outset of Carlos' demise through the kitchen entry.

The kitchen was in worse shape. It had not been cleaned, and a group of Ratatas and Trubbish were taking over certain areas and eating whatever was left over after Carlos passed away, including moist food leftovers, takeout, trash bags, and possibly contaminated muddy water from where Carlos may have failed to fix his pipe.

Straining your nose from the foul stench, you return to the living room and observe Red kneeling at the drop of blood you failed to notice, licking it in his mouth with two fingers for analysis. You gauged from the inside, and this is not the first time he has done during this investigation; he did this as soon as the two of you entered at the living room.

"Will you stop putting whatever shit in your mouth?" You asked, making a face but it soon falters when Red gave you a glare: "Sorry."

"Do not interpret what I do," Red sneers, he walks toward you in a long stride that mimics like a predator ready to pounce at its prey: "I do not like to be disturbed."

You huffled at his words, his brows furrowed, and his fists balled up. You saw that he was suppressing his feelings, trying to project an air of superiority as usual, but he was failing to do so because you could see a hint of genuine human emotion in his eyes. It's possible that he has seen similar incidents previously, but you don't want to find out just yet because you two are running out of time and there's no time to argue.

"It's best if you end your partnership with me before things get worse," Red growls, his lips quivering to reveal his canine teeth as his gentle brown eyes meet yours. "I do not like you."

"And I do not like you either," You talked back, "No matter what you says, this is what I agree on, like it or not, you are my partner and we worked this together despite our differences."

Red has no choice but to be with you either, whether for his tasks or for other reasons. Nonetheless, he has had a nagging sense since the first time he saw you at the station, and he despised it so much that he had buried it deep within his system.

Yet... you're the first human who can put up with his attitude and he kinda likes it.

--------

English is not my first languange! This work can be found on wattpad, qoutev, and ao3 :)

Ao3/Qoutev/wattpad

Chapter 2

[spiritualmeal]

Heyy what’s one kink that you really wanna do?

The kink I want to do the most is a very specific type of sadism. But I also want it to be in combination with other kinks. The kink would be best describes as painal. It has to be done with someone that's never been fucked in the ass and has never trained there ass ever either. Now we would start with some nice bondage. Shibari specifically; make you look all pretty, however I wouldn't want to tie you down as I would want to show you how much stronger than you I am by holding you down. You would be wearing a skirt and I would start off normally, grabbing your ass, playing with you a little bit, I'd even start by fucking your pussy a little bit, then as you lay there enjoying what I'm doing to you and waiting for me to put it back in I put my hand on your back to keep you from moving, I bring the tip of my dick up to your asshole. You freeze. There is now panic in your heart as you think "is he really going to do this to me? Is he going to fuck my ass? This must be a mistake.. please don't. It will hurt so much" and then you feel me push my dick in to your ass. It doesn't go right in because your ass is so incredibly tight and you start to panic and move around trying to keep me from going in "that's the wrong hole!", so I push down on your chest (also ideally we would be doing some ageplay) "I know kiddo, daddy just can't help himself.. it looks so tight and pleasurable" I say this as I am slowly pushing the tip of my dick in. "I just can't help myself baby I need to feel what it's like". You may think that I mean in your ass but what I am really talking about, what I really want to experience is your screams, cries, and pleas for me to stop. I want to put you through excruciating pain and I want you to endure as much as you can for me. "Please don't daddy, please don't fuck my ass" she begs me not to ask the tip is now inside her ass. I respond not in a whisper but in a low soft voice, "There's no stopping me babygirl. This is going to happen, but I know you're strong. You can do this kiddo". In a quiet voice you desperately ask me "please no" I can hear in your voice you're starting to sob as you're terrified of what happens next. "Baby this is all your fault, if you weren't so pretty and didn't have such a pretty tight ass for daddy then I wouldn't be made to need this from you" I then plunge my dick all the way into your ass. I enjoy the feeling for a moment, I enjoy your reaction be it a gasp, a cry, or more pleading. I then start relentlessly pounding your ass and telling you how good it feels, how nice it sounds to hear you cry, and how beautiful you look when you're in pain as I pull your head back by your hair and look you in your eyes while I fuck you. I keep going until I fill your ass with my cum and make you clean it with your mouth. I don't even have to worry about you trying to run. You're broken. Unwilling to move. You have no one to go to anyways. I am the only person in your life for you to cry to and be comforted by. I go back to you and I cuddle you, speaking into your ear as I do so. "I'm sorry baby I just couldn't help myself. I needed to do that to you. You're just so pretty and such a good girl." You're simultaneously scared and comfortable as my arms are wrapped around you. You hold on to them for dear life. "You took it so well as I fucked your ass. I loved hearing you scream, but baby you have to know that this is your fault. It's your fault for making me do this to you, daddy just couldn't help it. You deserved to get raped by me". Later that night while your ass is still sore I would fuck you again and hold you again till you go to sleep and that would be my ideal scene to act out

[transjordanli]

Golden boy. Golden girl.

The two lock eyes and all Jordan can do is gulp. Marie eyes the scene she’s walked in on. Being ever so perceptive, she takes note of the mess of clothes and makeup. She sees that Jordan is flushed, wearing pants they definitely wouldn’t wear with that tank.

“Oh princess,” Marie coos, closing the door behind her and walking up to her partner. “Having a weird gender day?” She asks, voice ever so gentle and kind. Not a hint of condescension or pity.

OR

An exploration into Jordan’s upbringing and identity. And how they’ve finally found a safe space.

AO3 link

The phrase “Golden boy” has always had more than one meaning for Jordan Li. Thanks to Luke, the name wasn’t as painful anymore. But it still stung, but now for more than one reason.

The first time they heard “Golden Boy” uttered from their father’s lips was after their elementary school spelling bee. They pulled their first all nighter the day before studying their ass off. In hindsight, it paid off since they won. But they didn’t know that it was going to be the start of those two words haunting them for their entire life.

Jordan often found solace in their mom’s closet. They loved exploring the large walk in closet, door securely closed behind them. They were particularly drawn to her jewelry cabinet. They’d set it in their lap and would lose themselves in the tiny drawers, running their fingers along the cool jewels and silver and gold. But they were especially fascinated with pearls. Much to Jordan’s delight, Mrs. Li had quite the extensive pearl collection.

One day, a tiny 9 year old Jordan took out one of their mother’s pearl necklaces. This one was a simple string of pearls with a silver heart pendant. They stood in front of the mirror, admiring the necklace. They slipped it over their head. And within a flash, they grew an inch and their hair grew to their shoulder blades.

Although shocked at the sudden shift in appearance, the young kid couldn’t help but relish in the feeling of how their hair now fell over their shoulders. The elegant pearl necklace seemed to pop out even more with their shiny, black hair cascading down. With a giant goofy grin, Jordan couldn’t stop swooshing their hair side to side. They ran their fingers through the locks as well as the pearls sitting atop their neck. It just felt right. They felt free.

And then their parents barged in, the euphoria of that moment coming to an abrupt end. Without realizing, Jordan shifted back. Their newly long hair went back to short and tight around their ears.

Mr Li. got down on one knee and yanked the necklace off so fast that the piece broke in his hands. The pearls exploded in a frenzy. The sound of the tiny pearls rolling along the wood floor echoed loudly, filling the tense silence that was between the three family members.

After what felt like ages, Mr. Li brought the tiny child into his arms and whispered into their skin.

“You do have powers… I knew you would. My golden boy.”

After that day, the Li’s made it very clear that they were over the moon about their child’s super abilities. But with terms and conditions. They pushed Jordan to be the best they could be, academically and physically whilst supporting them in every extra curricular.

But they were only allowed to compete in boys track and field. They had to wear a button down shirt, slacks, and a tie during debate. They had to perform at orchestra concerts in a 3 piece black suit.

There was no room for discussion of anything else. Anything remotely feminine was out of the question. So eventually Jordan just stopped trying. They found themselves compartmentalizing integral parts of who they are just to please the people around them - parents, peers, and partners alike. They tried their best to adhere and conform to this idea of masculinity. Because if they were a boy, they would excel in whatever they put their mind to. If they were a boy, they would be respected.

And it fucking hurt. Mrs. Li locked her jewelry cabinet, forbidding Jordan to look let alone wear any jewelry. Same with her makeup.

They went through two separate puberty’s and had to go through it alone. They weren’t allowed access to training bras or tampons/pads, so they had to steal whatever they could find at school.

The only time they felt safe enough to shift was during the dead of night. Once they knew their parents were asleep, they’d stand in front of their bedroom mirror and analyze what they saw staring back. While their broad shoulders and sharp lines and angles are indeed a part of them, it wasn’t all of Jordan. And in a flash, they were met with a shorter version of themselves. They eyeballed their curves and soft skin. Their jet black hair that hung low on their shoulders and long eye lashes batting softly. It felt like they could breathe again, if only for a little while.

Once they graduated high school and got accept to Godolkin University, there was still an air of uneasiness surrounding shifting and being themselves. The school did pride themselves on diversity and inclusion, yes. But to what extent?

They still pushed themselves to be the best. Because as they quickly learned, being an Asian bigender superhero isn’t the marketable American dream. But they met people along the way.

Andre, Luke, and Cate were the first people in their life to love all of them. They weren’t “too complicated” to be understood. They didn’t have to be just One Thing around them. They were free to be themselves, however that may look.

Luke, precious Golden Boy, was the first person to ask them what pronouns and gendered terms they preferred. Taken aback and being so restricted throughout their life, Jordan tearfully answered that they didn’t actually know. Luke took it upon himself to help them explore what felt right and comfortable. And for that, Jordan is eternally grateful.

Cate was the first girl friend they’ve ever had. Well, the first one who knew all of them at least. She bought Jordan their first few pieces of makeup: mascara, black pencil eyeliner, lip gloss, and a neutral color eyeshadow palette. After many personal failed attempts, Cate helped them learn how to actually use the products on their face. She went through a similar experience whenever she enrolled at God U, and she made it her personal mission to not let Jordan walk around looking like a clown like she did.

They’ve come so far in their personal growth and understanding of who they are. They are a boy, just not all the time. And they are a girl, just not all the time. And finally, at last, that’s okay! It’s okay that their identity isn’t the norm. They’re allowed to be themselves unapologetically. Yeah, they’re still working some things out in terms of gender expression, but isn’t everyone? The point is, they’re at a place to where never have to compartmentalize parts of themselves to “fit in” or make others lives easier again.

Which is why they can’t, for the life of them, understand why they’re finding themselves doing it again. They’ve worked so hard at unlearning self sabotaging behaviors. But the second Marie Moreau came into their life with her gentle, big brown eyes they were a goner.

They know she isn’t a shitty person. And yeah, there is literal video evidence of Marie enjoying their female form. But that voice in the back of their head telling them that masculinity equals safety is a relentless motherfucker.

So now Jordan is sat at their desk wearing nothing but a bra, grey tank, and briefs in their fem form. They are…completely dumbfounded about what to do for their date night. It looks like a Sephora threw up on their desk; they have their small but mighty collection of makeup scattered everywhere. Their dorm itself isn’t in much better shape. They took out all of their clothes, trying on every article of clothing they own but nothing feeling right.

Their clothes are pretty gender neutral by design. Sizing is tricky as it has to fit both forms, so buying from the men’s section is usually the rule of thumb. But they’ve never allowed themselves to wear anything more feminine. Do they want to? God yes. Especially now. But they’re terrified.

“Jordan?”

A soft knock is echoed by their name being called, snapping Jordan out of their thoughts. They swing their head towards the clock, processing it’s already 6:30. Which means they’ve spent the last 2 hours getting absolutely fucking no where.

“Uh, h-hold on!” They quickly stutter out, stumbling out of their chair and throwing on the first pair of pants they find. With a sense of mania, they start throwing the mess they’ve made into their closet as quick as they can.

“Babe, it sounds like you’re doing construction? I’m coming in!” Marie announces, opening the door just as Jordan is shoving 4 pairs of shoes into their closet.

The two lock eyes and all Jordan can do is gulp. Marie eyes the scene she’s walked in on. Being ever so perceptive, she takes note of the mess of clothes and makeup. She sees that Jordan is flushed, wearing pants they definitely wouldn’t wear with that tank.

“Oh princess,” Marie coos, closing the door behind her and walking up to her partner. “Having a weird gender day?” She asks, voice ever so gentle and kind. Not a hint of condescension or pity.

Jordan blinks rapidly, trying to stop the tears from forming. Their shoulders start to shake and that’s all Marie needs to see before wrapping the smaller girl up in her arms.

“Shhh…. It’s okay baby. You’re okay.” Marie affirms, rubbing Jordan’s shoulder and placing a kiss on the top of her head. “Tell me what I can do.”

“I,” Jordan lets out a single watery albeit frustrated chuckle.

“I don’t even know. I-I just wanted to look…” They trail off, scared of even saying it out loud.

After a few beats of silence, Marie figures Jordan is done trying to explain. So she carefully tries to finish the thought.

“You wanted to look pretty, right? That’s why all of your makeup is out and why you’re wearing a bra today.” She notes gently, swaying the two of them side to side. She feels Jordan nod into her chest, nuzzling themselves deeper into her as if trying to hide from the world.

She doesn’t want her partner to feel ashamed for anything, especially this. So she unwraps her arms from their form and takes their face into her hands. She gently cradles their jaw, wiping their tears with her thumb.

“You’re my beautiful girl,” Marie says with a gentle smile, “and I love you. All of you, okay?”

Jordan feels their eyes well up once again and they nod, their lips trembling. They lean up and plant a gentle kiss on Marie’s lips, placing their hand on top of hers on their jaw.

Marie smiles into the kiss, humming softly before pulling back ever so slightly.

“Can I try something? You trust me, right?” She asks softly, taking both of their hands in hers.

“Of course.” They answer instantly without a second thought.

Satisfied, Marie gently leads them back to their desk. They take a seat and the taller girl wastes no time getting to work.

“I saw this eye look on IG and saved it so fast for you…I think you’d look incredible. I’ve been trying to find the right time to try to do your makeup.” She explains as she props her phone up for the video tutorial and cracks her knuckles.

“I’m so excited. And very lucky I have such a gorgeous canvas…” Marie grins, gently buffing out the peach color shadow.

“Oh hush up, Moreau.” Eyes closed, Jordan sticks their tongue out. They don’t need to have their eyes open to know Marie is grinning ear to ear right now.

“It’s true! This wouldn’t work on any ‘ol canvas, ya know. I am a highly trained professional artist, of course, but the prettier the canvas the better.” She jokes, continuing to carefully work on their eyeshadow.

“Now open up,” With Jordan’s eyes now open, Marie picks up a dark brown eyeliner pencil and applies it from the middle of their lid to the outer corner, dragging it a bit below their lid. Motioning for them to look up, she applies the same eyeliner to their lower eyelid, middle to end. She buffs it out with the same peach shadow color.

“Almost done!” Marie grabs a palette with a gold tinted glitter and gently pats some onto their index finger before patting it in their inner corner.

She picks up a pink nude lip tint and gloss, applying them carefully onto their lips.

“God I’m so glad you’re not white. I couldn’t do this shit on white people lips!” Marie exhales as if completely relieved. And this alone causes Jordan to double over laughing - the first genuine laugh Marie has heard since she’s walked in. And she can’t get enough.

“Just a bit of mascaraaaaa….” Marie trails, being extra careful to not stab her partner in the eye. “And done!”

She throws the tube onto the table and takes a step back, admiring her work. Her stomach starts to flutter. Jordan looks ethereal.

“O-oh wow….” She stutters out, “I really outdid myself.”

Jordan face flushes once again. They’re still not used to compliments regarding their femininity. They’ve been called hot and every other synonym many times while masc, but it feels a lot more intimate when they’re in their fem form.

“Can I see?” They ask, voice small but with a hint of excitement.

“Of course, my love.” She takes Jordan’s hand and pulls them up. She walks them to their full body mirror, turning on the lamp so they can get a real good look.

Jordan lets out a sharp inhale the second they see their reflection. The makeup is subtle but just enough to really accentuate their features and eye shape. They look… beautiful. And they finally feel it too.

“Oh my god,” Jordan leans in, inspecting their face closer at every single angle. “You-you did amazing. Thank you.”

Without missing a beat, they turn around and practically throw themselves into Marie’s arms, hugging her tight. Marie chuckles and hugs them back just as tight.

“Anything for you, my golden girl.” Marie coos, breaking the hug and opting to kiss their now glossy lips.

Jordan heart flips at the phrase golden girl. They don’t think they’ve told anyone about that painful nickname, let alone Marie. But it sounds… right coming from her lips. It’s safe.

“Don’t want to ruin your makeup,” She says into the kiss, grin and all.

“Mm, of course of course.” Jordan jokes, still flushed, before breaking the kiss.

“We may have missed the movie buuuut I’m starving. How about we head to the mall? I want to get my baby girl a pretty outfit.” Marie asks as she grabs Jordan’s silk bomber jacket from their now messy closet and helping them put it on.

“I, you….” Jordan starts, but Marie’s face makes it clear she’s not budging. Her stubbornness is one of Jordan’s favorite things about her.

Knowing they won’t win, they sigh and concede. “Fine. But I’m at least paying for our pizza, okay?”

Marie claps her hands in satisfaction and is already opening the door. “Works for me. Now let’s go - I wanna show you off!”

Marie grabs their hand in and pulls them out the door and doesn’t let go. And Jordan never wants her to.

[marcusoseman99]

Songs of the isle pt 44

Apollo: Bob.

Vick: *trying not to laugh* Hmm really?

Apollo: Of course not jackass.

Vick: *sigh* How about a less serious question then?

Apollo: Go for it dude.

Vick: *laughs* Who taught you to tie laces so well?

*Apollo doesn’t respond continuing forward*

Vick: You don’t need to answer.

Apollo: No I will

*They walk in silence for a few more seconds*

Apollo: Euippe she was my villages crazy lady she taught me a lot.

Vick: Like what?

Apollo: How to fight, hunt, cook, question things and help.

Vick: She sounds nice.

Apollo: Not at all she was a hard ass and would woop my ass if I try to do anything stupid...... more than my family did.

Vick: Sounds rough.

Apollo: What no I had everything I needed.

Vick: Where is she now?

Apollo: I don’t know.

Vick: but-

Apollo: that enough for now

*The scene cuts to Herms sitting at his desk with the chest that Apollo retrieved sitting on his desk he is writing on some paper till the doors swing open.

A woman in a long dark red dress with a slit down the side showing her leg and a black Leather Jacket with outlines of orange walks slowly toward him*

Woman: Hello, hello, hello.

Herms: *sigh* Please knock next time Cassandra.    

Cassandra: And what’s the fun in that, Messenger.

Herms: Do you have my payment?

Cassandra: Of course you know that i am good for it.

Hermes: Sure.

Cassandra: Gods you are just as dramatic as your brother.

*Cassandra walks up to Hermes desk and drags her dark red nails along the edge of his desk till she is standing over his right shoulder.

She sits on his desk before throwing something wrapped in cloth to Herms and catches after it hits his chest*

Cassandra: That’s it.

Herms: Seem to be enough take your goods now.

*Cassandra doesn’t moved but looks Herms up and down he stands up to look her in the eyes before she slowly gets up and grabs the chest before leaving*

*the Scene follows Cassandra as she walks out of herms office and disappears into thin air, the scene comes back with Cassandra throwing the chest onto the ground in a poorly lit room.

The only thing in sight is a few book cases and a single leather black chair both in very odd places the floor she put the chest on is wooden plates that have been cleaned and sanded but are pure black.

She sits cross legged revelling that she has changed into grey sweatpants and a baggy white t-shirt she drags the chest over to her knees and gentle cresses the metal square that covers the chests outer layer*

Cassandra: Finally fucking finally something that can really make a difference.

*Cassandra opens the box quickly while her eyes are closed before slowly opening them*

Cassandra: what the- THERES NOTHING, FUCKING NOTHING THAT SHIT HEAD THAT-

*Cassandras back snaps back till the top of her head is touching the ground while her arms shake uncontrollable her legs haven’t moved an inch, her eyes go white as her mouth opens unnaturally wide.

Her ribs start coming in and out of her skin as though her skin was the waves of water the bones of her arms break in pieces that pierce her skin.

While her veins in her arms are dragged out of her and began to dance to their own unheard song dragging Cassandra left to right repeatedly as they float in the air.

Her eyes slowly return letting her feel the pain as though it was wished to happen by an unknown entity watching her.

Cassandra screams as she feels and sees her body be played with by a sadistic unnatrul force but it is cut short as her throat starts to unravel showing her muscle beneath the skin while her jaw is slowly let go as her cheeks start to waste away. *

Cassandra: I CAN’T- I CAN’T DO THIS I- BUT I NEED TO SAVE THEM PLEASE I NEED TO SAVE THEM ALL, PLEASE

*Tears drop down Cassandras face unable to do anything else till all of her movement stops and she is let go laying on the ground with a blood pool forming under her*

Cassandra: Please let me live they need me.

*The blood coming out of her starts to slowly go back into her body as her body starts to snap back together violent in its efficiency till she is sitting cross legged again staring into the darkness that is all around her*

Cassandra: Everything feels odd why does my body feel like it is here in this room but doesn’t at the same time.

*Cassandra holds her hand out in front of her and starts to move it left to right*

Cassandra: Am I here?

*She continues until the skin starts to fall off and stay floating in the air*

Cassandra: Why doesn’t this hurt what did Herms give me this can’t be a way to the circle, can it?

*Cassandra stops moving and closes her fist then her skin comes back to her hand, she stares for a second before closing her eyes*

Cassandra: TAKE ME TO THE CIRCLE.

*Cassandra stands in the dark for a couple of seconds*

Cassadra: Now I just feel silly I can’t believe I can’t use this I need a way to get to the circle.

*Just then Cassandras hand rips itself apart and creates a blade out of her bones and muscle*

Cassandra: That could work.

Cassandra: Holy fuck this could be my way to actually get through to them show them all that I have the means to get to the circle and end this cycle.

*The scene cuts to Vick and Apollo returning back to Dion at his tent*

Dion: Good you are both here I would like to invite you both to my next party.

Apollo: What’s the occasion?

Dion: Demi’s birthday I assumed you would remember.

Apollo: Sorry I get hit in the head a lot.

Vick: Wait I am invited too?

Dion: My parties aren’t anything to gloss over if you want to see our world then this is the event to be at some kill to get in........ some have.

Vick: Damn.

Apollo: I don’t think I have a choice but Vick you don’t have too if you don’t want to be here.

Vick: Will there be alcohol?