#where’d my claws go?

[7atl7as7]

wait wdym not everyone has a playlist where they dream that they’re their kintype and ripping the flesh off of people they don’t like O-o

[slut4daviii]

character(s): g.tomioka

pt(s): 01/02

cw: cheating, cum-eating, masturbation

summary: idk but giyuus husband is cheating and giyuu is fantasying about his neighbor. one thing will lead to another and you’ll find that forgetting an anniversary will never end will for the forgetting party

a/n: hi. | minors and non-male aligning DNI

title: anniversary sex

wc: 1250+

────────────────────────

────────────────────────

scandalous.

he knew his thoughts were everything but pure.

scandalous.

he knew his thoughts should only pertain to his own husband and the life they’d built together.

scandalous

but… he couldn’t. he couldn’t keep his eyes from the widow. couldn’t keep his thoughts from wandering; forming indecent images and scenarios.

his thighs pressed inwards at the situations created by his imagination. each one a different position, different pose; exploring each other’s bodies, igniting new passion into one another.

“haa— hah! [n—name]…!” he’d moan into your chest, dragging his fingers down your back in such a crude, indecent manner.

you’d groan into his neck, inhaling the fresh scent of his shower, the fruity scent still lingering from the perfume he spent seventy dollars on. just for you.

you’d press yourself deeper into him, embedding your tip into his womb. “ahh!” a high-pitched yelp. he would put his hand on your v-line, trying to stop your movements.

you’d only go harder, dismissing his mindless mumbles of “ngh!! t—too… too de—ep! s—sl—slow d..d—down!!”

he would know.

you would know.

his husband would know.

everyone would know.

that he wanted it. just how you gave it to him; slow, deep, mind-breaking stokes that left him breathless at every thrust.

“you wanted this, right? watched me from your widow. rubbing yourself to my form, hoping I’d come and sweep you away from your husband.”

he’d choke on his words, clawing at you for any sort of support. his eyes would roll backwards, an orgasm rippling between the two of you, staining your chests in a sticky white substance.

“Gi—“

you’d move your fingers to his chest, lifting his legs to his shoulders in the process. your fingers would slid along his abs, soaking up his spewed semen and bringing it to his—

“Giyuu”

—mouth, forcing him to taste his own—

“Giyuu!”

—seed. he’d moan around your fingers, the salty taste of himself pushing him over—

“GIYUU!!”

Giyuu pulled back from the sink, dropping the cup he held in his hand, shattering it.

his husband stood across the short kitchen distance with a briefcase in hand. he adjusted his tie, tugging on the fabric to adhere to his neck.

“Giyuu, where was your mind? I’ve been calling your name for five minutes.” the man chuckled

Giyuu smiled, glancing back to the window before snapping his vision back to his husband. “J…just thinking of our anniversary.”

his husband hummed, closing the buttons of his suit. “anniversary?” he chuckled, burning a hole into Giyuu’s chest. “our anniversary was two months ago.”

Giyuu glanced at the calendar on his refrigerator, looking at the heart over today’s date.

His husband followed the look, panic rushing through his body. “Uh—uhm I mean, I, I was thinking of your birthday..!”

‘my birthday was two days ago.’ he thought

Giyuu looked back to the window, no longer seeing the picture of his fantasies. ‘where’d [name] go?’

his husband came behind him, palming his ass and resting his chin on Giyuu’s shoulder, disregarding his obvious discomfort. “are you mad at me?” his husband moaned into his ear, harshly rubbing his front against Giyuu’s back.

Giyuu remained silent, earning a harsh thrust “oh, I’m sorry Giyuu, I’ve just been so busy. but, I promise, when I get back, we’ll celebrate all you want.”

“Get back? where are you going?” Giyuu asked softly, not surprised by his husband’s actions.

“I have a business meeting with Rengoku. It’ll last a week. I’m sorry!”

Giyuu nodded, moving away from the man to pick up a banana from the table. “Well, you better go now, I forgive you.”

his husband smiled, placing a quick peck on his forehead. “I swear, I’ll make it up to you when I get back.”

Giyuu nodded, undoing his apron to take a shower.

“oh! I called [name] over to fix the sink, he should be over later.”

Giyuu stopped his movements, feeling heat rush to his face. “ok, love you.”

as fast as his husband had entered the kitchen, he was gone, leaving with only a distracted “mhm.”

Giyuu continued to his room, removing the rest of his clothing to begin his showering process. he pulled a basket from under his sink labeled ‘[name]’ and continued on his way, reliving his fantasy from earlier.

he felt a smile etch its way onto his face, burning into his features

“I’ll see [name] soon…

[awkward-walking-potato]

Could you do a request with 15 and 16

With Logan where the reader dresses as him for Halloween

Costume Confusion

The Xavier mansion was decked out for Halloween, glowing with a hauntingly warm ambiance as orange lights flickered, fake spider webs clung to corners, and the unmistakable scent of pumpkin and cinnamon wafted through the air. The annual Halloween party was in full swing, with mutants of all ages wearing creative and occasionally ridiculous costumes. You, however, had been feeling a little uninspired this year.

As you scanned the room filled with witches, superheroes, and a very awkward-looking Cyclops in a vampire cape, you finally saw Logan — dressed as… Logan. Of course. His costume was simple: his usual flannel shirt, jeans, and that familiar leather jacket. No costume needed for someone who already embodied a legend.

But tonight, you had something special planned for him. Smiling to yourself, you snuck out of the crowd and headed to the room where you had stashed your last-minute costume. Logan didn’t know about it yet, but you were sure his reaction would be priceless.

When you emerged, your transformation was complete: flannel shirt half-open over a white tank top, jeans, and boots — the closest match you could find to Logan’s signature look. You’d even managed to get your hands on some claw-like props. You knew it wasn’t perfect, but it was the thought (and the teasing) that counted.

With your heart racing just a bit, you made your way back into the party, spotting Logan leaning against the wall, drink in hand, surveying the scene with his usual gruff demeanor. His eyes were scanning the crowd until they landed on you.

For a split second, his brows furrowed, like he was trying to process what he was seeing. Then, as you approached with a swagger mimicking his, his lips quirked into a lopsided smirk.

“Is that supposed to be me?” Logan’s voice was low, the familiar growl softened by a trace of amusement.

You grinned, giving a mock snarl as you raised your clawed hands. “I’m the best there is at what I do,” you said in your best (but terrible) Logan impression, drawing out the claws with a dramatic flair.

Logan chuckled, shaking his head as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I know you’re tryin’ to be scary, darlin’, but you’re just way too cute.”

Your grin widened as you took a step closer, meeting his gaze. “I couldn’t find a costume, so I just decided to go as my partner,” you said with a playful shrug. “Figured it’d be easy. All I needed was some flannel, jeans, and an unshakable sense of grumpiness.”

He snorted, his smirk growing as he looked you up and down, clearly fighting to keep his amusement under control. “Well, you nailed the flannel and jeans. But the grumpiness? Nah. You’re too damn cheerful for that.”

“Maybe I’ll work on my brooding for next year.” You leaned in a bit, still grinning. “What do you think? Do I pass as a mini-Wolverine?”

Logan’s eyes softened for a moment as he reached out, gently tugging at the sleeve of your flannel shirt. “You look better in this than I ever could,” he muttered, and you could see the faintest hint of affection in his rough features.

You chuckled, slipping your hand into his, feeling the calluses of his rough palm against yours. “Thanks, old man.”

“Old man, huh?” He raised an eyebrow but didn’t let go of your hand, giving it a squeeze instead. “Careful who you’re callin’ old when you’re dressed like me. People might get confused.”

You laughed, the sound mixing with the festive atmosphere around you. The two of you stood there for a moment, comfortable in each other's presence as the party buzzed around you. It was a contrast to the wild costumes and energy of the night, but that was part of what made it special. With Logan, you didn’t need over-the-top antics—just being by his side was enough.

After a beat, Logan glanced down at your makeshift claws. “Where’d you get those?”

“Made ’em myself,” you replied, lifting your hand to wiggle the faux claws. “Not as sharp as the real deal, but they’ll do.”

Logan grinned, his eyes crinkling slightly at the edges. “Good thing. Don’t need you shreddin’ up the mansion tryin’ to be me.”

“Well, maybe if you’d let me use the real ones, we wouldn’t have that problem,” you teased, knowing full well how he’d react.

Logan shook his head, his chuckle deep and warm. “Not a chance, darlin’.”

As the party carried on, you both lingered near the edge of the room, watching the chaos unfold—kids running around in costume, the X-Men mingling and enjoying a rare night of peace. It was fun to be part of it all, but with Logan beside you, it felt like your own little moment, a quiet pause in the middle of the festive storm.

Leaning against him, you felt his arm wrap around your shoulders, pulling you just a little closer. He might not have been the type to dress up for Halloween or join in on the party games, but Logan was there with you, and that’s all that mattered.

You tilted your head to look up at him, catching his eye as he glanced down at you. “So, do I win for best costume or what?”

Logan gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. “You win, sweetheart. Hands down.”

“Thought so,” you muttered, grinning as you leaned into his warmth, the sounds of Halloween fading into the background as the two of you enjoyed the night in your own way.

[bump1nthen1ght]

A Very Monstrous Kinktober: Day 26 (Masturbation)

Kink: Masturbation

Pairing: Mothman x GN!Reader

Other Kinks: Consensual Voyeurism, Mutual Masturbation

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1091 words

Kinktober Masterlist

There is a vivid squelch, silicone against lube, when you press the dildo into you. It’s loud, wet, and perfectly lewd. The kind of sound you’d hear amped up in volume in a schlocky porno or some hentai. It’s the kind of sound you’d avoid making in fear of being caught; But your partner is gone, has been for the past 3 days, to help in the forewarning of an oncoming disaster two states over.

And gods, how you have missed him.

A year ago you never thought you’d be this touchstarved, this desperate for affection for one man’s touch. You thought that kind of stuff was only in romance novels and smutty fanfiction, accepting that no human man was ever going to be that exciting, leaving you wanting so much more.

Well, you had been right about the human part, at least.

Still, your body ached for the soft feeling of your partner's fuzzy wings, his long fingers which always held onto your waist so gently. His ruby red eyes that seemed to stare directly into your soul, always filled with a gentlemanly love, even when he had you bent over a table.

“Hmmm, Atticus.” You moan, feeling the fake balls of your toy nudge against your entrance, sunken full inside of you. “It feels so good.”

Familiar with a…tool this size, you waste no time and begin to thrust it in and out, moaning your sweet partner's name as you do. You imagine his deep, southern drawl. His claws running down the side of your face. His antennae twirling and buzzing as you come undone for him.

You even imagine the familiar tapping on your window, the one he always uses to sneak into your bed late at night. So quiet despite being 7 feet tall.

“Oh my.”

And now you can even hear-

Wait.

Your eyes shoot open, sitting up from bed, realizing you now lie spread eagle in front of your very-real boyfriend who is very much actually present in your bedroom.

His antennas tutter back and forth, hand thrown over his mouth like a shocked 50s housewife. The dildo slides an inch out of you as you scramble upward, something like an excuse on your lips, face red hot with embarrassment.

“Did you miss me that much?” Your partner chuckles, lighthearted, a matching blush lighting up his black fur.

“I-” You stutter, wondering if he heard you calling out his name. You may have been dating for a year now, but still, being caught by your refined, almost-victorian gentleman partner is a little mortifying.

“Well, if it helps.” Atticus’ voice sinks to a lower octave, big eyes narrowed like a smirk. “I missed you a whole lot too.”

The hand around his mouth slides down his chest, leading your eye across his scrumptious body, right to his unsheathed cock.

When did he even get that out?

“C’mon baby.” Atticus drawls. “Keep going.” He sits down in a corner chair, stroking his swollen dick. “Gimme a show.”

A shiver rolls down your spine.

My god, where’d he learn to talk like that?

You ain’t complaining, slipping back to your comfortable position, making sure to keep your legs extra wide. You slide the dildo all the way back in.

Atticus hums in approval, hand rubbing at his flushed head.

“How's it feel?”

“Good.” You pant, slowly rocking the dildo in and out, making sure to press it extra hard with each thrust.

“As good as mine?” Mothman chuckles, rubbing some leaking precum down his shaft with his thumb.

You eye up his cock, biting your lip.

“No.” You gasp, the dildo hitting a particular sensitive spot, sending tingles down to your toes. “Not even close.”

“Hmm, but good enough while I was away?” His eyes shoot to the clear bottle of lube on your bedside table, almost halfway empty. “Seems it got put to work.”

“Couldn’t-” You breath hitches, spreading up your pace, “Couldn't h-help myself. Missed your cock so much.”

You throw your hips up, making a show of your entrance clenching around the thick shaft of the dildo. Lube and juices trickle down the curve of your ass.

Atticus remains dignified, silent as he lazily jerks himself off. But you know the signs by now, see the way his chest tightens and his antennae twitch.

“That right?” Atticus’ other hand reaches down and begins rubbing at the slit where his cock protrudes, an extra sensitive spot you're well acquainted with. “This cock missed you too.” He finally shows some sign of his pleasure, a small hitch in his articulation when he squeezes his head. “Missed that tight hole, missed filling it up.” He rolls his neck, a move he knows you love, showing off the sinewy muscle as it cracks. “Hmm, felt like torture, not being able to fuck you whenever I wanted.”

Your wrist aches and goes ignored, your focus solely on Atticus and the burning fire in your belly. You hang off every word like it’s gospel, letting it sink into your chest and stir up your insides.

“You got me addicted, honey. How could I resist coming home early?” Precum squirts out his head, splattering the top of his hand. “Knowing I’d have such a sweet little thing to greet me?”

Your moans are breathy, vision getting fuzzy are your orgasm climbs. Your brain wants to close them to ignore everything else and focus on your high, but you force them on Atticus. His cock twitches in his hands, and you think you can make out a low “Damn.” as he jerks it.

“You gonna cum?” Atticus asks.

All you can do is nod, head stuffed with cotton and legs trembling. You imagine it’s his cock, the cock in front of your eyes, fucking you open. That it's his hands wrapped around your hips, his pelvis in between your thighs.

Atticus leans forward, cock still humping into his palm, but those big eyes only on you.

“Then cum.”

“Ahh-nggh!” You keen, hips spasming as your orgasm wracks your body, exploding across your abdomen and miking your toy.

Your limbs feel heavy, sweat dripping down your chest. The toy slips out of you and you pant, leaving trails of lube on the bed. Its that post-orgams kind of high that has you going “Wait, what was I doing again?”

“Good job.”

You don’t even have the energy to react when you feel Mothman’s palm against your face, not even wondering how he moved over so quickly, now straddling your hips.

“Now, it’s my turn.”

[wjhik]

Why Are You Doing This To Me?! (Jude Bellingham)

A/N: guys im way too proud of this one. so much angst so much heartbreak. gaslighter!jude so much fun PLEASE COMMENT ANYTHING I LOVE READING THEM

As my birthday approached, I clung to the hope that maybe, just maybe, tonight would be different. I planned a special dinner for just the two of us, maybe a chance to reconnect and rediscover the love Jude and I had lost over the past 5 years. I was there for him at his worst at Dortmund, and now his best at Madrid, but as the hours ticked by and Jude failed to show, any remaining hope turned to despair. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I blew out the candles to my homemade chocolate cake, as per Jude’s request, alone, the flickering flames a cruel reflection of my shattered dreams.

↭

I sat on the edge of Jude and I’s bed, my fingers tracing aimless patterns on the wrinkled sheets beneath me. The clock on the bedside table mocked me with each passing second, a cruel reminder of Jude's absence. He had been drifting further away with each passing day, lost in the shitty late-nights with his friends. Our once vibrant relationship had begun to crumble, leaving me alone to pick up the shattered pieces of my heart.

I had given everything up for Jude. I left everything I knew to come to Dortmund to be with him. I gave up scholarships to end up going to a shitty college in a country where I knew no one, but I never complained, because I was with the love of my life. A few years in, I had finally settled down, but Jude decided he was too good for Germany, so he made the move to Madrid with not a thought about me. He wouldn't hesitate to leave me behind if I didn’t make it work, but being the dumbass I am, I made it work. I moved out here to Madrid with him just for me to see him, if I’m lucky, twice a week, despite living together.

Unable to bear the silence of our empty house any longer, I made the decision. The decision I would regret forever. I went to Jude's regular bar, the place where he often chilled in the company of his friends. Pushing open the door, I was greeted by the familiar scent of stale beer and laughter. But, unexpectedly, Jude was nowhere to be found. My heart started pounding, thinking about the worst possible situations. I scanned the room to see a group of some of Jude’s teammates. I let out a sigh of false relief, suspecting maybe he was using the toilet or something. Desperation clawed at my chest as I approached Vini.

"Vini, have you seen Jude tonight?" I asked the Brazilian, my voice trembling with emotion, hoping and praying that he knew.

His eyes were glassy and unfocused, words slurred from far too many drinks. "Yeah, he left a while ago," he mumbled, pointing vaguely in the direction of the exit. “With someone…” He softly added on softly. “With who?!” I exclaimed. “Just one of his friends, don’t worry.” Luka adds on. “Where’d he go?” I asked, slightly shivering. “I don’t know.” They said, miserably lying. “Please.” I plead, tears in my eyes.

↭

I heart sank unhealthily deep in my chest as I shoved my phone back into my pocket, the address burning in the forefront of my mind. I started the 30-minute walk to the given location, all sorts of horrible thoughts in my head. Who is this friend? Do I know him? Why would Jude not tell me? Why were the guys keeping it a secret? Is he with another girl? 

↭

With trembling hands, I pressed the doorbell, my pulse racing with anticipation as if I had run 5 marathons with no break. The door swung open, revealing Jude. He was shirtless, bruises all over his uncovered chest, bruises I didn’t leave. He looked around briefly until his eyes meet my wet ones. “Y/N? What are you doing here?” Jude asked me, much too surprised for anything innocent, his voice tinged with guilt. Before I got the chance to reply, I heard a voice calling his name from the next room. I heard light footsteps approaching my boyfriend. “Baby, who’s there?” She asked. My heart instantly dropped. Anguish surged through my veins as the truth dawned on her. 

The beautiful woman wearing lacy lingerie and a silk robe places a kiss on the back of Jude’s neck before clinging onto his arm. “Can we help you?” She asked, far too nicely. My eyes filled with tears as I struggled to find my voice. "Who is she?" I whispered, ignoring the girl on Jude’s arm in my place and locking eyes with my ‘boyfriend’, my heart breaking with each and every word

Jude's gaze shifted uncomfortably, his grip on the other girl tightening. "She's just a friend," he insisted, but his words fell on my deaf ears. Her eyes widened as she realized who was standing at her front step.

A torrent of emotions flooded through me as I screamed all sorts of horrid curses at Jude, each accusation tearing at our already fragile bond. “You’re a cheating, lying bastard! All these fucking years I wasted on you, you’re going to throw that all away for this?! And on my fucking birthday?!” I couldn't understand how the man I loved with all my heart could betray me like this, how he could throw away everything we had built together for the sake of a fleeting moment of pleasure.

“Love, you’re hyperventilating. You’ll pass out at this rate. Please come inside.” The woman offers. She sat me down on her couch as I uncontrollably sobbed and screamed at Jude. She disappeared for a moment into her kitchen and came back with a glass of water. 

Our argument echoed through the empty hallway, or should I say my yelling, because Jude had nothing to say. All of my insecurities that Jude has ever reassured bubbled to the surface, fueled by years of my doubt and his neglect. I was small and insignificant. I didn't matter in Jude's eyes anymore. I didn’t matter in anyone’s eyes. 

Jude stepped away from my shaking body to cross paths with his ‘new girl’. I couldn’t hear everything except for something along the lines of: “You’re right, Jude. She’s not well. She needs help.” It sounded sympathetic. I stood up and continued yelling. “You made me seem like I’m fucking crazy! You fucking asshole, you ruined everything! Anybody would go crazy with all the shit you put me through!” The two got startled and came over to comfort me once again. I felt like I was nothing. Nothing but a mentally ill, crazy bitch. I felt like it was all my fault. Maybe Jude wasn’t wrong to cheat on me. “It’s okay, darling. Just breathe.” The girl comforts me. 

↭

Somewhere along the lines of screaming and crying, I had given out and fallen asleep on my boyfriend’s side chick’s couch. This was probably my lowest point ever. My eyes shot open and the tears fell out once again. I looked around to see no one there. I heard a sweet voice coming from the other room. I went over to see Jude on her bed, head in his hands, and her hugging and comforting him. Jude looked up and immediately shot up. He moved towards me and hugged me. 

"Y/N, let's go home. You’re so exhausted." he said softly, his eyes pleading for forgiveness.

I hesitated, torn between the desire to lash out at this fucker who broke my heart and the girl he broke it with or the longing for comfort they both were giving me. But in the end, I nodded, allowing Jude to drive me back to our shared house. The journey was filled with a heavy silence, the weight of his unspoken words hanging in the air like a thick fog, my words were all spoken. I laid my head on the window, unable to hold back my tears.

As we entered the house, once called a home, the tension between us was obvious. You could break it with the dullest of knives. I looked at the man I once loved who didn’t hesitate to throw me aside like a broken toy. But to my own surprise, I wasn’t leaving. I always preached about leaving your cheater boyfriends, but I truly had no one else.

"I'm not leaving," I said, my words hanging in the air like a lifeline. “I have nowhere else to go. You’re all I know."

And with those simple words, I thought the fragile remnants of our love were stitched back together, a patchwork of broken promises and shattered dreams, but I was wrong. 

"I have to go, Y/N," Jude's voice broke through the heavy silence, his words hanging in the air like a dark cloud.

My heart skipped a beat, confusion etched into every line of my face. What is he doing? I’m letting him have his happy ending. What the fuck is happening? "What do you mean?" I whispered, my voice barely audible in pure confusion.

Jude took a deep breath, his gaze filled with sadness and regret. "I'm leaving you, Y/N," he said, each word like a dagger to my heart. "Cassie… she's pregnant. I'm going to be a father, and I’m really happy about it."

The world seemed to spin out of control as I struggled to comprehend the enormity of Jude's betrayal. Tears welled up in my eyes as I stared at him, unable to find the words to express the depth of my pain. “Jude, I’m giving you what you want here. I’m supposed to be the independent woman and leave you, but I’m not. I’m staying. What the fuck are you doing to me?” I say, sobbing as I try to plead my case. 

“Y/N, please don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” He said, walking into the bedroom to get his pre-packed suitcase, me trailing behind. “Listen, I was planning on doing this anyways. The house is all yours. I don’t need it.” He says, handing me his keys. I looked around at our house, all of his belongings were gone. How did I not notice? “Wait, Jude. Hold on. Why are you doing this to me-” I tried to say as Jude walked out of the room. “You’ll be fine.” He interrupted. He put his hand on the back of my head and kissed my forehead. And like that, he walked out of my life.

↭

Six years passed in a blur of heartache and longing. I watched helplessly as Jude built a new life with Cassie, our shared house now a distant memory. I thought I would accept it, but I never did. I couldn't change the past, couldn't erase the hurt and betrayal, and I knew that, but it didn’t help. All I could do was move forward, one painful step at a time, but I couldn’t. All of our pictures hung in my apartment, despite selling our house out of desperation. I couldn’t keep a job, always coming to work drunk and miserable, so I needed the money. 

Here I found myself standing outside a church, my heart heavy with sorrow and despair. I received an invitation to Jude's wedding, a cruel reminder of how that sick bastard ruined my life. But as I stepped inside the beautiful venue, my eyes fell on two familiar faces in the crowd.

Jude stood at the altar, his hand intertwined with the woman who ended it all, a big smile playing at the corners of his lips, bigger than when we were ever together. And beside them, a little boy with Jude's dark curly hair and soulful eyes, his resemblance to his father unmistakable. 

My heart hurt and felt heavy at the sight, a bittersweet and horrible mix of sadness and resignation washing over me like a tidal wave. I watched silently as Jude exchanged vows with the other woman, my heart breaking with each promise of love and fidelity. He promised her love, care, attention, and ironically honesty and loyalty. The same things he promised me almost 10 years ago, but here I am. A miserable guest while she’s his wife.

[waffledforbreakfast]

First Date- [MUTI! BLLK X F!READER]

(SEPARATE) pt3

Staring: Otoya, Karasu, Reo

pt1: Rin, Sae, Kaiser

pt2: niko, kaiser, ness

[ BLLK Scenario Masterlist ]

TW: heavy ooc, bad grammar, bad spelling, bad formatting, cringe, scuff, etc.

>Otoya

[Mall outing]

You stared at the time on your phone, it read 11:59pm. You two were supposed to meet up 29 minutes ago.

You sighed and shook your head, you couldn’t say you were surprised, but still. You assumed Otoya had some human decency in him. So you told yourself you’d wait 30 minutes. If he still didn’t show, then maybe you’d give Karasu a call and see if he was busy…

You looked back at your phone, 11:59 turning into 12:00.

You mentally facepalmed for ever thinking Otoya would actually show and got ready to leave.

Just then, you heard you name getting screamed across the mall from behind you

“[Y/N]!” Otoya collapsed on to your back, trying to catch his breath, “Sorry I’m-... A bit late-”

You gave him a judgmental look while pushing him lightly off you “A bit?? Where were you!? I waited for 30 minutes!!”

“Yea about that..” he laughed awkwardly while brushing himself off “I forgot…”

You glared at him, slightly pissed. “Why did I ever agree to this…” you rubbed your temples “Should’ve gone out with Karasu instead..” you mumbled the last part before composing yourself 

“So- wanna grab some food? I’m kinda hungry…” he asked you while eyeing another women. What a great start to your first date.

You calmed yourself before agreeing, and the two of you made your way to the food court.

You were quite hungry as well, waiting for Otoya took much longer than you would’ve thought. So the two of you stood at the Churro stand while browsing the menu.

“Let me pay” Otoya offered with a smirk “As an apology for being late.”

You gave him a skeptical nod, “... You brought your wallet- right?”

His face froze for a second, before he started digging through his pockets.

Your eye twitched as you placed your order (and Otoya’s bc he always get the same thing) and pulled out your card to pay

But before you could tap, Otoya did instead, and the payment went through (surprisingly)

You gave him an amused smile as he gave a smug one (more to himself than you) seeming proud to have found his wallet

“Great job so far Eita.” He thought to himself, “10/10 date, I’m sure she’s in absolute amazement at my rizz.”

He took the Churros from the worker with a wink and handed you yours. Otoya smiled before taking a bite of his, “So, where’d you like to go?”

“Hm… there’s a new clothing shop nearby… how bout we check it out?”

Otoya nodded before following you closely, soon entering the store.

He helped you pick a few outfits out, and surprisingly, he knew exactly what you were comfortable in and what you looked good in. He even carried the bags for you after!

You two wandered around a bit more, stopping by whatever shops you felt like. He won a few claw machine games for you, and even hit on the cashier for a free donut(also for you-)!

As your date slowly came to an end, he made a short but proper apology for being late, and offered to walk you to the station.

Before you hopped on the train, you gave him a quick kiss and a wave, heading off

He’d never admit it, but he was blushing for the next 20min XD

>Karasu

[Seasonal Festival]

You looked at the map on your phone as you followed the path to your destination. He had invited you to the annual Lantern Rite, and you’ve never been before so you figured you should get there early/while it wasn’t entirely dark yet.

“Should be around here…” you mumbled, seeing that you're in the right area on the map- before bumping slightly into someone.

“Hey, thought you’d be here early.” Karasu laughed, seeing your surprised expression

“I- yea…” you were a bit flustered to be caught

Karasu laughed even more, and you just glared at him as he did so. “Sorry sorry- *wheeze* I’m fine now” he gave you a smile before reaching out his hand, “Here, let me hold your things for you.” he took the bag off your shoulders and carried it before intertwining your fingers with his, “You ready to go?”

He took you around the festival while commenting, “This year’s theme is Kites, have you flown one before?” He turn to look at you, still holding your hand

You thought for a second before responding, “When I was younger, yes. But it’s been a while.”

Karasu gave you a smug smirk, “Well, I’m basically a pro. Here, let’s try.”

He guided you to the dock selling kites before looking around. He was about to get one before realizing that it was the most popular. Then he worried about looking mediocre in front of you and decided against it, only to get it in the end because ‘it’s the best one there’.

He hoped that you didn’t see him argue with himself as he walked over to where you were looking. It was the child's section.

“Karasu look! This one’s a crow!” You showed him the kite you picked with a smile

He tried to keep in a laugh “Cute, I mean, if you like it.”

The boy paid before following you out to fly. The scenery was beautiful, kites everywhere, lanterns lighting up the festival, and the quiet chitter-chatter of the bystanders on the lower floors. And yet his eyes could only focus on you.

You unwrapped the string of your kite, standing at the edge of the wooden flooring while Karasu leaned on the edge of the railing, watching you with a smile.

As you finished setting up, you looked at him with an amused expression, “So, you gonna do yours too? Or just watch me?”

He was snapped out of his trance before turning his back against you to hide his red face and starting unwrapping his kite too

The two of you got ready to fly them, Karasu did a little countdown. “3, 2, 1!”

You both let go of your kites as you watched them soar, your’s immediately going higher than his. The two kites looked so pretty flying above the ocean water, you watched them in awe.

Karasu was a bit salty that yours was higher than his, but seeing the smile on your face made it worth it. Still, he thought he was a bit mediocre because he couldn’t show off to you.

The two of you made small talk as you watched the kites and he watched you also your kite

“You look really beautiful, you know?” Karasu suddenly blurted out, trying to keep his smile as calm as possible

You struggled to form a sentence for a second, but then whispered out a “Thank you” (his face was redder than yours LOL)

After you pulled your kite back in, the two of you set off to wander the festival a bit more. Karasu bought you some tanghulu and sparklers (those sticks you wave around?)

As the day came to an end, he offered to bring you home as it was dark out. The two of you walked hand in hand as he delivered you home.

“Thank you for joining me today, [Y/N].” he thanked you with a smile

“Of course, thank you for taking me out.” you gave him a quick kiss before heading inside your house “Safe trip home!” 

He nodded before smiling to himself, internally freaking out over the small action. This Lantern Rite was his favourite, and probably will be for many years to come.

>Reo

[Art museum]

You entered the wide doors of the art exhibit, carefully surveying your surroundings, well aware that some of the “art” here cost more than your life (even if it’s just a canvas that looks like it’s been pissed on)

“My my, who knew that art could be so hot? Maybe I should pin you to a wall” you looked Reo up and down, jokingly flirting 

He turned around and frowned, before rolling his eyes with an amused smile “Hello to you too. I was just looking at this actual piece of art.” He turned back around to an empty glass on display 

“...” You looked at the piece, then back at him, “Is that an Ikea cup-”

“It’s art. Don’t think too much of it.” he took your hand and dragged you away “shh, the owner gave us-well, me- early entry tickets, that’s the whole reason why we’re here. And he’s literally watching us.” he whispered to you under his breath, bringing you to the next room.

You composed yourself and tried to act as sophisticated as Reo (though you wondered how he kept a straight face). There were a few people gathered around this piece, you wondered what could cause such an attraction. You were about to push your way through before Reo brought you around the few people instead.

Once you saw it, your eyes shot open and you tried to hold down a laugh. But that back-fired horribly and you started choking. 

Reo hits you lightly on the back, not to help you stop choking, but to tell you to compose yourself. Though he himself was having a hard time not breaking down in front of the art and all the rich people staring at them

You cleared your throat, and stood up straight (A/N: YOU TOO READER- I SEE YOU AND YOUR SHRIMP POSTURE) “Ah yes, what a wonderful piece of… art.” you scrunch your face at the art in question on display

It was a simple stone carving, not having many surfaces, giving it a geometric look. The edges were smooth, clearly being cut carefully, the piece looking much like… a ‘rocket ship’.

“The rock must be… very hard” You gave a weak smile, trying not to laugh

This time Reo was the one to break, even if it were just for a second. He quickly stifled the laugh though, but you felt a bit of pride in getting him to break.

“Hey, this rock must get wet pretty often, huh?” you nudged Reo lightly.

You were speaking fairly quietly to only be heard by him, but someone else seemed to have heard you. 

“Yes, you are quite right.” an older man approached you, “This is one of my best pieces, made from a special rock that comes from the sea. The natural wetness made it a wonderful material to work with!!” he gave a gleeful smile

“You don’t say? It looks beautiful, the shape is amazing, so much thought must’ve gone into it!” you doubled down and returned a smile, matching him in enthusiasm.

He nodded, very excited “Yes yes! Finally, a true art connoisseur! I’ll tell you what, I’ve carved a smaller version of this piece, it is available in the gift shop if you ask.” he quickly scribbled down a note and handed it to you “Just give them this and they’ll let you buy it” he gave you a quick wink before going back to assisting the other people there

You turned to Reo with a smile, and he was trying his hardest to keep a laugh in. His face turned slightly red from doing so. He let out a quiet wheeze followed by the quietest laugh. You covered your mouth and did the same, very amused at the recent interaction. It took Reo a good few minutes to recover, you had to drag him away from the room to not offend the artist.

You quickly walked past the other exhibits before reaching a small isolated locker area. Reo immediately lost it, he fell to his knees, laughing his ass off “OMG YOU DID NOT JUST DO THAT LMAOOOOO” his laughs echoed through the small corridor, soon followed by yours. The two of you couldn’t believe what just happened, you were impressed with your quick thinking. After the two of you had a good laugh, you helped him off the floor “Did you want to go back to look at the other exhibits?”

“Nah not really” he brushed himself off, “Did you want to go to the gift shop and pick up your carving?”

You grinned and made your way over to the store. Reo held the door open for you as you entered, looking around. 

“Damn…” it quickly hit you that the things in here were all very expensive.

Reo walked up to the cashier with a small wave, he gestured for you to come over as well. You pulled out the slip of paper and handed it to the worker who read through it quickly and nodded before disappearing into the back.

“So, how much do you think it is?” Reo asked you while leaning on the counter 

You shrugged “I dunno, like $200?” You’ve never gone to an art museum before and it showed

Reo gave you a questioning smile “Really? Just $200?”

“Fine, how much do you think it is!?”

“Like $50k+” Reo laughed, but he seemed serious 

The worker came back out with the miniature carving, placing it carefully on the table. “That’ll be $52k” she smiled at him.

Reo smiled back before pulling out a cheque and filling it out quickly before slipping it to them

You, on the other hand, were flabbergasted. $52k for a rock?? You couldn’t even begin to comprehend that.

Reo took the bag from the worker and handed it to you, “Take good care of it okay?”

You held the item carefully, “Thank you, Reo… This is a lot tho-”

He waved it off “It’s nothing, really. Barely make a dent in my account.”

You gave him a hug and he laughed, “Is that all?”

You looked up at him questioningly. He pointed at his lips with a smirk

You rolled your eyes before leaning in and giving him a quick kiss. But before you could pull away, he held you by your waist and pulled you back in for another.

“Mm, much better.” he smiled, still not letting go of you “I’d say that was well worth $52k”

You pushed yourself off playfully, “Whatever you say, rich boy.”

Reo laughed, “Let’s get you home, love.”

A/N: d

[pupkashi]

arcades

arcades are scams, he knows, but dammit gojo will win you that prize

a/n: hi hi !! inspired after an arcade date so here u guys go !! let me know what u all think and any requests u have :3

wordcount: 1,728

masterlist

Your eyes lit up as you took in all the arcade games around you, smiling as you saw the amount of Mario kart, dance games, and so many others. Your eyes jumped from game to game, realizing that the further part of the arcade was purely a maze of claw games.

“where’d ya wanna go first angel face?” gojo asked, holding your hand and guiding you through the arcade.

“claw games?” you smiled, gojo nodded, he would never deny you anything even if he should.

“let’s fill up our card with points first, sweets” he spoke, letting go of your hand as he grabbed his wallet, heading to the kiosk and swiping his game card.

“how much should we put in?” you asked, looking at the prices, “like $50? seems good right?” gojo would usually agree with you, seeing as though you hated when he spent too much money, but not today.

Without hesitation he pressed the most expensive option, filling up the card with a hefty 777 points, tapping his phone against the reader before you could argue.

“toru!” you whisper yelled, swatting his arm as he giggled at you, grabbing your wrist and smoothly intertwining your fingers.

“let’s go play some games shall we?” He wiggled his brows and you fought your smile, rolling your eyes and heading to the claw games together.

Gojo didn’t pay much attention to the prizes, too busy smiling at how pretty you looked with colorful lights flashing against your skin, lighting up your eyes. God, you were so beautiful. He didn’t bother hiding the fact that his eyes were practically hearts, cheeks pink as you dragged him down the aisles of games.

“this one’s cute! let’s try it” you smiled up at him, taking the card from his hands and swiping it, aligning the claw before pressing down. The plush just barely slipped out of grasp, causing you to groan.

“you gotta like, double tap it,” he explained, taking the card and swiping it. He aligned the claw with the plush, pressing to drop the claw and then pressing just as it surrounded the plush, causing the claw to firmly grasp the plush, easily carrying it to the opening and dropping it.

“oh my god!” You exclaimed, bending down and grabbing the plushy, holding it up in the air.

Gojo grinned, petting the plushy before deciding he was gonna win you every single prize you wanted tonight.

“you’re so good!” You smiled, adoring the small cat plush in your arms.

“I’ll win ya anything you want angel” he smiled, loving the way you held onto his arm as the two of you walked.

“let’s try this one!” gojo stared at the overly round dark brown platypus plush. This would be tough.

He swiped the card quickly, getting to work, only for the plush to just barely slip out of the claws grasp. Gojo groaned, trying once more and failing.

“watch this” you smirked, handing the cat plush to your boyfriend and stretching, gojo just rolled his eyes and smiled.

On your very first try, the platypus was on its way to your arms, landing softly into the opening. You smiled widely, jumping as you held the plushy up the gojos face.

“I’m so good!” You cheered, gojo jumped in excitement with you, cuddling the plush as you moved onto the next game.

You stared at the fuzzy hello Kitty, pointing at it and looking at gojo, “i need it,” you stated. Gojo smiled, swiping the card confidently.

By the fourth try you had tried to pry gojo from the machine, but the 6’3 sorcerer was not budging until the small hello kitty plush was in your arms, and you were jumping with joy.

The plush just barely slipped out of the claw again, “fucks sake!” He grumbled, swiping the card immediately and aligning it again.

“sweets we can go get a different one” you laughed, admiring how concentrated your lover looked. His eyes were furrowed, tongue just barely sticking out from his glossy lips, the shades on barely balancing on the bridge of his nose and his snowy bangs falling across his forehead.

While you were busy falling deeper in love, gojo pulled you out of your daydream with a loud cheer, smiling widely at you and bending over ungracefully, shoving the fuzzy plush in your face.

“thank you toru” you giggled, adding the plush to the ones already in your arms, you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, “you’re so talented.”

The compliment made him blush, his grin growing wider. He followed you to the next game, watching as the flashing colorful lights painted your skin, your eyes narrowed as you tried to get the otter within grasp.

If gojo was stubborn, there was no word to describe you. Who after the 7th attempt and failure snatched the card out of gojo’s hand and swiped it again, a slightly adorable crazed look in your eye as you mumbled to yourself to adjust the claw for the fuzzy otter.

“sweets, i don’t even want it that badly” he began, you turned to look at him after yet another failure, the machine making a small sad noise as the plush fell back into the pile.

“that badly? so you do want it?” You pushed, swiping the card again and adjusting your position to try again. Gojo smiled at you, he could very easily pull you away, but your determination held him back. He watched you with his hands in his pockets, a small smirk on his lips as you continued.

After a couple more rounds both you and gojo yelled in triumph, high fiving each other before you proudly presented the soft otter to your lover.

“for you, baby girl” you teased, gojo hugged the plush, closing his eyes and sighing dreamily.

“thanks so much babe” he replied, voice a higher pitch than usual.

The two of you made your rounds down the aisle, hyper fixating on certain items the other had said were cute.

It was probably your 12th attempt at the round cat plush holding a fish when you realized you had no credits left. You pouted, grabbing the card and sighing.

“what’s wrong, sweets?” Gojo asked, as the two of you walked away from the machine.

“out of credits, gonna go out some more in” you spoke, gojo looked at you in disbelief. Who did you think he was?

“you are not spending a single cent” he spoke sternly, stopping you in your tracks. “I, however, will spend whatever necessary to win every single thing you want.”

“I can't allow myself to stand here and watch you spend another hundred dollars on points,” you began, “no toru.”

“you can’t stop me,” he quipped.

“okay, can’t say i didn’t try” you replied, barely fighting as you wanted so badly to win your lover another prize.

The next hour or so passed quickly, and the two of you were beginning to grow exhausted, and you began to fear for gojos wallet by the third recharge.

“I’m getting tired, you ready to go?” You asked, watching as he managed to win the colorful bunny plushie you asked for. Gojo looked over at you, barely visible over the mountain of plushies you held in your arms.

He bent over and grabbed the bunny plush, along with the other five he had set in the floor.

“let’s get a bag before we head out okay?” He spoke, you nodded, following him as he asked for a bag, the cashier, shooting him a smile, blushing as she held the bags out.

“thanks” gojo spoke, already turning before the cashier called out, causing him to turn around.

“here’s my number” she smiled, holding the paper out, gojo only stared blankly at her, putting the bunny into the bag, leaving one hand free to push his sunglasses up a bit.

“sorry, hands are full” he shrugged, walking away and finding you struggling to balance the 12 plushies in your arms, two of them already fallen over by your feet.

“need help sweetheart?” he smiled and you began pouring the plushies into the bag, your arms finally getting relief as you finished filling the fourth bag up and handing it to gojo.

The two of you walked out with bright smiles on your face. You snapped a quick picture of gojo holding up the bags with a giant grin on his face, setting it as your lock screen before putting your phone away.

“i learned something today” you spoke, putting the bags in by your feet as gojo turned the car on.

“what’s that?” he asked, the LED lights from the dashboard just barely outlining the shape of his nose and the jaw, his bright blue eyes still standing out.

“if i stepped foot in a casino, I’d walk out with a gambling addiction” you stated, gojo smiling as he kissed your cheek.

“I’d fund every last penny baby” he laughed, you rolled your eyes.

The two of you headed back to your shared apartment, setting all the plushies on your bed, gojo immediately cuddling the otter you had won him, laying on a macron plush you’d also won him, claiming it was as sweet as him so he had to have it.

“did you like your prizes toru?” You asked, arms wrapped firmly around the colorful bunny, your lover smiled up at you, a boyish grin that was full of love.

“course i do, ‘specially cause the best person in the world got em for me” he smiled, letting go of the otter and wrapping his arms around you, placing a kiss to your temple, then your cheek, then your nose. You craned your neck slightly, kissing his lips and smiling.

The two of you changed into your pajamas, gojo holding his arms out for you to cuddle into his chest. You smiled and jumped into bed, grabbing the bunny plush and hugging it while resting your head on gojo’s chest.

“i had so much fun today” gojo mumbled, kissing the top of your head and running his fingertips gently up and down your arms.

“I did too, thank you for everything” gojo smiled, watching as you wiggled a bit to reach his face and peppering kisses everywhere.

“now let’s go to sleep before the reality of how much you spent dawns on me.”

[tadpolesonalgae]

Are you up to write something for poly!feysand x reader? Maybe a little darker.

I found your account recently and I'm obsessed with everything you wrote.

A Court of Nightmares!Feysand x reader: Beg for It[***]

A/N: Pretty filth, as promised. Also thank you so much for this ask, I was elevated to a higher plane while writing this 😭💖

Summary: The High Lord overhears your treasonous thoughts and decides to have his High Lady help with your punishment.

Warnings: Dub-con, humiliation, degradation, pussy eating (reader receiving), oral (m!receiving), threesome fmf, edging?,

The cold granite always sucks the warmth from the room. In spite of the terracotta rug you have on the hewn floor, and the paprika infused bedcovers, everything’s grey. Having to live here day after day after day after day, it sucks your life away from you before you even get a chance to live it. Simply wasting away beneath the rock of the mountain.

And yet the High Lord and Lady come and go as they please. They’re free to travel the land in ways you’ll never be permitted to. Hatred burns beneath your skin, resentment bitter in your mouth.

Your head is yanked back, sharply, a slim arm curling around your waist as a female body presses into you. You’re paralysed, completely taken out of your own control as you freeze. “Hello there, little traitor.” A shiver zaps down your spine at the cruelly lilting tone of the High Lady. What was she doing here?

A laugh rings from her dark painted lips, the sound empty and cold, “don’t panic,” she drawls, nails biting into your sides as her canines nip at your ear, “or maybe do, considering those treasonous thoughts you were practically screaming at us in the feasting hall.” Dread coils in your lower belly, solidifying into terror.

She laughs again as she scents your fear, nosing at the soft skin of your neck. “Not so aggressive now, are you?” She croons, hand releasing your hair to curl around your throat, “come on, where’d all that fight go?” She yields a seed of control, allowing your words to return.

You grit your jaw, the muscles trembling. You know what she’s capable of with those daemati abilities. You feel it as her lips slice into a wicked grin over the pulse point of your neck. “Silence isn’t going to cut it, little traitor. I suggest you start answering before I loose my temper.”

Terror thrums through your blood, singing for you to run, screaming at you to submit to escape whatever she has planned. You swallow, “damn you to hel.” The words come out as a rasp beneath the squeeze of her fingertips, sharp claw-like nails biting into your skin.

With powers you can only dream of, she drags your bedside table until it presses against your hips, forcing you to lean over roughly. “You brought this on yourself, pretty liar. Remember that when you’re screaming for us to stop.” Her hands forcefully push you down onto the desk, bending you over and your body complies, wilfully following her cold commands as she shoves your skirts up.

Her breasts press into your back as she leans into you, squishing you between her own lean body and the table. One hand slips beneath your waist, snaking between your legs as she cups you. You take in a sharp breath, freezing in shock at the invasion. Her canines nip against your neck as she opens her mouth over the sensitive skin, “scared, little traitor?” Her nimble fingers push further between your legs, her middle and forefinger pressing at your entrance as silver lines your eyes.

“There exist a multitude of methods to torture without resorting to violence,” she croons, “surely you’re aware of that.” You swallow, balling your hands into fists, thinking of every year you’ve spent trapped beneath the rock, kept from the outside. You grit your teeth, making a choice, “I’ve been kept beneath this mountain my entire life while you’re free to travel as you please,” you snarl, “I understand well enough.”

The sharp talons jutting from her fingertips dig into the bare skin of your inner thigh, making you hiss. “I wouldn’t want to make this any worse for yourself, pretty liar,” she purrs, hand dipping beneath your flimsy slip of fabric, fingers locating your clit effortlessly.

You’re surprised by her bold moves, and by the shock of pleasure that flows from your nerve endings. You jolt, dropping onto the table, forearms bracing you as you inhale sharply; exhale heavily. She laughs wickedly, “I didn’t expect you to crumble so easily,” she croons, circling the sensitive area repeatedly. “Who would’ve thought,” she drawls, “and after all that heat of hating us for being able to leave at our pleasure.”

Her hands leave you and you seize the chance to scramble for your composure. That is, until she kneels behind you, tendrils of darkness wrapping up your thighs and lower back to keep you tied to the table. You gasp when her thumbs gently pull at the soft, wet skin around your entrance, spreading you wider. Hot embarrassment flushes your cheeks, “what the hel are you doing?”

She laughs darkly from behind you, thumbing at your sopping hole, “No guesses? I’m sure I’d be delighted to hear your ideas.” Your thighs tremble as you have to lean more heavily on the desk, frantically attempting to close your legs. “How do you even know if I have an appetite for females?” You pant, trying desperately to force a growl into your voice, to no avail.

“I don’t,” she laughs, the soft breath brushing over your inner thighs with how close she is, “this is torture, remember?” Her tongue sweeps over your entrance and your arms almost give out then and there. You revel in the way the hot, wet muscle drags over you, how she laps so intently. “Don’t you think it’s unbecoming of a High Lady to lower herself like this?” You manage to pant through the mind clouding pleasure that’s thrumming through your body, lighting your sensing with flame.

She nips at your clit and a moan escapes you. Your palm smacks across your mouth the second after but it’s too late. “You seem to certainly be enjoying how I’m lowering myself.” Her tongue pushes against your entrance and you dig your nails into the desk desperately.

“You want to come, little traitor?” She drawls, lapping up your cunt, pressing against the swell of your now puffy clit. “Come on,” she croons, “as your High Lady, you belong to me. Every part of you. Every breath, every touch, every orgasm. It’s mine.”

“I believe you’re my High Lady, Feyre Darling.”

You freeze. Even the female behind you stops. Then she’s rising from her kneeling position, arms lacing around your waist possessively, one hand snaking to your jaw, forcing you to watch as the High Lord prowls into the room.

“Which means all of that,” he emphasises as his cold, violet eyes burn into you, “is also mine.” Behind you, you can feel the exact moment her body looses its tension, muscles melting as his words slither over her, becoming soft and pliable.

Pure malevolence drips from him as he stalks forward, power thrumming in the air of your bedchambers, pushing into every nook and corner. “Surely you remember how to share,” he purrs, eyes on his mate. Despite not being able to see her, you’re sure her lips have split into a wicked grin. “Just warming our girl up,” she drawls, hand snaking again beneath your skirts; between your thighs.

Utter mortification paralyses your body as her fingers slip through your wetness, pulling away as she shows the High Lord how you’ve slicked her fingers. He cocks his head, a gleam in those violent eyes, a hellish smirk curving the edges of his mouth. He moves forward, lethally quiet, until he’s just before the table. Then he’s raising his High Lady’s fingers to his mouth, lapping at the slick coating them. Your mouth drops open at the act, petrified to your spot as his eyes flick to your own, a sinful grin glittering over his mouth.

His hand grips your jaw, tugging you against the table as his nails bite into your cheeks, “want to know how you taste, little lynx?” You don’t have time to protest as he lowers his mouth to yours, tongue licking and lapping over and into you as his teeth nip at your lower lip, dragging in it. He shoves his way inside, dominating in a way only possible for those born into terrifying power, and you can taste the distinctive flavour of arousal coating his tongue. “Like that?” He drawls, noting the hot flush on your cheeks.

You’re hardly able to speak as Feyre’s mouth opens over your neck, making you gasp, ravishing the sensitive skin. The High Lord chuckles, grip tightening to bruising as silver lines your eyes from his pain and her pleasure. “I think this punishment is rather fitting, wouldn’t you agree?” He drawls, continuing as if his High Lady’s hand isn’t snaking between your thighs again.

When her fingers land on your clit, you squeeze your eyes shut, desperate to not yield to either of them. The air shifts in the room, becoming heavier; denser. He’s not pleased with your refusal to answer.

The High Lord’s hand leaves your jaw, dropping to attend to himself as he unties the constrictions of his fine clothing. Behind you, Feyre’s dragging down your spine, slowly returning to her original placement. She pushes the fabric of your underwear to the side and you squeak. At the sound, their arousal becomes more prominent to you, invading your senses entirely as she presses her mouth to your inner thigh; teasing.

“Why are you doing this?” You pant, hating how breathless you sounds as you look up at the High Lord from beneath a narrowed brow. He grins maliciously, “because it’s our right. We rule over you. You are part of our property and have no say over what we do to you,” he drawls, one hand fisting in your hair, “isn’t that right, Feyre darling?” At his address, Feyre laughs, finally pressing her mouth over your pussy, enveloping you in the hot, wetness of her mouth.

The High Lord’s brutal touch strengthens as he feels you slipping away, “seems you’re enjoying my lady’s mouth,” he croons, applying a sudden pressure to lower you to the table, bringing you to level with his hips, “shall we see if you can keep up with her?”

You watch in horror - and with almost painful arousal - as he forces your mouth to his cock, pressing the tip just beneath the curve of your lips. “You can choose to do this of your own volition, or you can refuse, and have one of us slip into your mind to open up that pretty mouth,” he grins as a milky sheen wets your lower lip, the slit in his head beading with precum. “So which will it be? Because neither of us are stopping until you learn how to submit.”

Anger and arousal twine together sinfully in your lower belly, both simmering until you can’t differentiate between the two. Your upper lips curls into a snarl, “fuck. You,” you spit. Feyre nips at your clit, a small warning from her end that makes you wince. The High Lord’s grin widens and you can feel the blood drain from your face as dark, glittering talons scratch at your mind, piercing through until he has a firm leash on you.

You’re practically kicked out of your body, shoved to the forefront of your mind so you can only watch and feel as your mouth open, tongue resting on your lower lip as you drag from root to tip. Seconds later you feel a second presence filling your mind, pressing into every space available as the two occupy you.

You deliver small laps to the slit in his head, a groan coming from above you as he forces you through the movements of what he likes. Your nails dig into the table at the insane pressure filling your mind, as thought your skull will split open. Their presences retreat, leaving you grasping at the space of your own mind, returning to your body. ‘The next time you disobey we won’t be so kind.’ The High lord’s voice echoes through you, threat dripping from his words as he jerks at your hair, commanding you to meet his gaze. ‘Now,’ he drawls, grin growing wider, ‘open that mouth for me.’

Shame swarms your body, crawling beneath your skin as violet eyes watch as you part your lips, just as he asked. ‘That’s it,’ he goads, ‘keep behaving and this’ll be over in no time at all.’ The deceptive lilt to his voice tells you he’s lying through his teeth, putting that silver-tipped tongue to work.

‘Let me see, Rhys.’ The High Lady’s voice echoes through your mind, her tongue continuing to lap at your entrance. Her mouth drops down to your clit, oscillating nimbly over and over as the pleasure builds. Rhys’s hand tightens in your hair as he guides his cock into the hot, wetness of your mouth, groaning as he feels your tongue sliding with velvety smoothness beneath him.

An image flashes through your mind - courtesy of the High Lord. It’s from his point of view, with your mouth opened, lips poised to wrap over his cock, tongue positioned to cover your teeth as he pushes in. Your eyes are alight with fire, burning with flame as you hold his dominating gaze. Feyre moans loudly at the image, your own cheeks flushing more with the obscenity.

‘Keep working that pretty mouth of yours, little lynx,’ he calls, smirking wickedly as he pushes you further down, making your eyes squeeze shut as they burn. ‘Working so obediently,’ the High Lady drawls into your mind, her words laced with cruel mockery, ‘working so hard to please her High Lord.’

At her words, the sheer degradation, you feel a coil tighten, heat building in your belly. She laughs as she surely feels it, knows what’s happening to your body as a result of their cruel game. You feel yourself reaching your peak, the way Feyre’s swirling her tongue over your clit has you seeing stars. Yet just as you reach that mind fogging high, sharp black talons squeeze your conscious, suspending you in a state of almost.

A whine escapes your throat, crying onto his cock as the pleasure is taken away from you. The encompassing warmth of Feyre’s mouth leaves you as your eyes flick up to meet the cold violet of the High Lord’s. They’re flecked with cruelty yet heat is clearly roiling in their depths. A need for suffering.

‘Beg for it,’ the High Lord commands, and you really consider it. It’s so good. The way her tongue had been working you mercilessly; the way the High Lord had been using your mouth, releasing those delightful pleasures moans. ‘All you have to do is beg, and you can have it,’ he goads, pulling you from his cock. You flush with heat as the threads of saliva trailing from your mouth to him.

“I think she needs more, Rhys,” Feyre purrs, mouth gliding up the ridge of your spine to nestle at the junction of your shoulder and neck, nosing at the sensitive skin, noting the heavy arousal. “I think we should make her go again.” Her words are coated with cruel passion, her hand dipping down to cup your breasts, making you shrink back into her.

She bites at your ear, “don’t pretend you don’t like it, little traitor. You’re the one on the verge of begging for my mouth.” A soft moan claws its way from your throat as her thumbs graze roughly over your nipples. She looks up at her mate, “I think that’s a yes, don’t you?”

Your eyes widen marginally, turning to look at her as you try to shake your head but her hands are already grasping your hips, pulling you up against her and spinning you around, pinning you against the table. Then her mouth’s on yours, her hands snaking beneath your thighs as she shoves you up onto the table, settling herself between your spread legs as she devours you. Her hands slope down your spine and settle on the swell of your ass while your nails dig into the table in shock at the flavour of yourself on her tongue. So overwhelming.

Behind you, the High Lord groans at the sight. ‘Enjoying, High Lord?’ Feyre drawls, that taunting lilt returning to her voice. ‘It’s not kind to keep her all to yourself, darling.’ Then large, rough hands are gripping your shoulders, pulling you away from her mouth and slamming your back down onto the table, the High Lord grinning down at you as he shoots you an image.

It’s of you, as your are: lips swollen and puffy, glossy with saliva and cum while silver lines your eyes, hazy arousal dancing in their depths while your hair’s haphazardly strewn about. You look completely done for already.

A flush glows over your cheeks as you move to wipe your lips but shadows restrain you. While they’re at it, the loop beneath your thighs, pulling them up so your spread out perfectly for Feyre to daintily tap your clit, repeatedly. This time you do whine, attempting to close your legs at the sensitivity, your back arching.

She leans over you, fingers still perched atop the sensitive bud, “but you were so desperate for my touch moments ago.” She cocks her head, “what happened? Did you get cold feet?” Her thumb presses down on your clog and you shriek, legs attempting to curl beneath her to push away but you can’t. “Stop,” you cry, her thumb oscillating sharply at the sound.

The High Lady pulls away and you watch warily as they move.

Your stomach drops when the switch places.

The High Lord’s hands land roughly on your inner thighs, spreading you further apart, his cock gliding through your messy wetness, bumping your puffy clit. A moan crawls from your throat. Then Feyre’s crawling onto the table, swinging a leg over you as you’re met with her glossy heat, slick coating her thighs as she settles on top of you, just out of reach of your mouth. “Remember, this can end any time you want. All you have to do is plead,” she purrs from above you before she’s spreading her thighs wider, settling down on your face, wetness coating you instantly. She moans loudly, unabashedly, at the feeling, already winding her hips gently.

Between your legs you feel the High Lord shift, his thumb coming to brush over your clit as his tip presses against your entrance, one hand bracing your hip as he pushes in. Your back curves as he stretches you full, delicious, solid warmth pushing at you from within. A moan flies from your mouth and your can’t resist as one of them buries into your mind, forcing your tongue to start moving.

At some point, they leave, but you’re moving on your own, hands latching over the sweep of Feyre’s hips, lapping at the wetness between her thighs, desperate to have her coating your tongue. She moans, hips bucking as they wind over your mouth. Rhys’ thumb speeds up to a pleasurable pace and already that euphoria is building, returning to its original strength as he begins pounding into you.

Moans and groans are falling from your mouths, filling your bed chambers as they use you as they please.

Again, you hit your peak, and again, glittering talons squeeze at your mind, suspending you while they continue their ministrations. Your nails dig into Feyre’s hips but she only moans, grinding against your face more, dying for your tongue to unravel her as she practically fucks herself on you.

The High Lord uses both his hands to bite into your hips, pounding into you while slamming your hips back to meet his, throwing you effortlessly into overstimulation without giving you the overwhelming pleasure to ride it out. It’s just too much.

Your back arches, toes curl, your body automatically bracing to be thrown over the edge yet it never comes. They’re keeping you right on the edge, an ounce of pleasure more and you’d be free falling but you’re kept in your place: beneath them.

Tears spill down your cheeks when you feel Feyre’s finger glide between your thighs, playing with your clit. It’s so much but you can’t give into them. No matter what hel they put you through. No matter how much you enjoy it.

You yelp when Feyre pulls her hand away, tapping your clit harshly, your whole body jerking at the sensitivity. ‘Stop, please,’ you beg across that channel but she continues. ‘Beg for your pleasure. Beg for us to give it to you. It’s ours to decide what to do with,’ Feyre growls into your mind, fingers soothing over the stinging skin.

‘You’re being soft on her,’ a voice snarls, soaked in sin as you feel her hand being pulled away, enough for a moment of relief. ‘Let me.’ His hand smacks down between your legs and you scream, muscles tearing at the darkness binding your legs as pain sings through your body.

He doesn’t stop after just one, he keep going, barely giving you a few seconds to recover before his hand is smacking back down, each one harder and more painful than the last. ‘Fucking beg for me to stop. Try it.’ He taunts, your nails slicing into his mate as she moans louder.

‘Please, stop.’

‘You can better than that.’ He growls.

‘I can’t!’ You cry, ‘please! Please just stop! I can’t do this!’ The stinging stops, and you nearly cry again with relief as Feyre shifts above you.

Rhys sends an image down the line: Feyre sat atop your mouth, his cock pounding into you, his High Lady leaning over as saliva drops from her mouth to perch atop your clit, her fingers rubbing soothingly over your tender sex. ‘Come on, pretty liar,’ she goads, sweetly; menacingly, ‘beg your High Lord and Lady for pleasure.’ You manage to hold back, using the entirety of your will power - what’s left of it - to refuse.

Across the bond, you watch as she grins, ‘unless you want me to let Rhys have his way with you?’ She pulls away, and you feel it as he raises his hand, preparing to smack down.

‘Please!’ You cry out, halting his movements. ‘Please, I’m begging, please don’t. Please give it to me!’ Tears roll down your cheeks as Feyre moans above you, riding your tongue as her high approaches. The High Lord laughs darkly, hands returning to your hips to slam you back against him.

‘Uh-huh? You want us to give you some pleasure? You’re sorry for even thinking about disobeying us?’ The words are painted with malevolence, lethal threat lying beneath them. ‘I’m sorry,’ you plead, ‘I’ll never think like that again. Just please let me go.’

The talons that had been holding you pull free, pleasure erupting across your skin, flooding your senses as your nerves are set alight, practically glowing with euphoria. You feel Feyre’s heat fluttering above you as she comes on your tongue, releasing herself onto you. The High Lord continues pounding into you, seemingly harder, chasing that high until he’s spilling inside of you, hot cum filling you to the brim as your back arches, nipples peaking.

Your mind takes a while to clear, muscles spasming with the force of your pleasure, after so long of being suspended on that edge.

The High Lady’s fingers have returned to your clit, rubbing soothingly as she raises her hips from you. Your tongue laps over your mouth, tasting her release, revelling in her flavour. ‘Look at you,’ she taunts, peering between her legs, ‘so good. So fucked out.’

Her gaze lifts to her mates, ‘do you really think she meant that?’ The line in clear, a hellish grin dancing over the High Lord’s mouth as his eyes flick down to you, hands tightening on your thigh.

‘I think we should make sure,’ he drawls and you feel as he hardens against your already sensitive walls.

‘Make sure she knows who she serves.’

[otomiyaa]

[Drabble Reupload] - Bringing this old drabble back to life.

“Welcome home! I thought I was never gonna eat!” Korra exclaimed when Asami finally entered their shared apartment.

“Sorry, market was crowded.” Asami placed the bag with their food for lunch on the table and gave her hungry girlfriend a kiss.

“Wait. What the hell are you wearing?” Korra asked, pulling back and gazing at the T-shirt Asami wasn’t wearing when she left. A cartoon-ish print of Korra’s face was on it, with the text ‘Happy Avatar Day!’ above, and ‘Love and respect Avatar Korra!’ under it.

“Avatar Day? Where’d you get that?” Korra laughed and she playfully tugged at the silly T-shirt.

“There was a special stand at the market. I never knew today marked Avatar Day, but I like the shirt,” Asami said, giggling at the foolishness.

“I never knew either. They could’ve told me,” Korra said, and they both laughed at the random stuff citizens could come up with nowadays.

“But I’m glad you’d wear that with my face on it.” Korra pulled Asami towards her and wrapped her arms around her middle, hugging her and rubbing her face against her own cartoon-face that was on the shirt.

“Haha of course!” Asami returned the embrace and held her tightly.

“I remember something Tenzin said though! I think they celebrated Avatar Day officially in Chin Village. Avatar Aang had his own little adventure there. I think it was something like.. the day the Avatar was not boiled in oil? They also ate unfried dough!”

“That sounds ridiculous,” Asami said, pulling back from their hug.

“You know what sounds better?” she added, smirking at Korra with mischief, and Korra gave her a curious look.

“Avatar Day, the day…. the Avatar was not tickled to death!” Asami’s hands were suddenly positioned on Korra’s sides, and before the Avatar could have suspected the attack, her playful girlfriend managed to force out a string of cute giggles from her.

“H-huh whahahat?!” Scrunching up her nose from giggling so much and frowning in confusion, Korra was soon reduced in a sweet girly giggle fit. 

With her own arms still wrapped around Asami all she could do was squirm as her sides and ribs were squeezed mercilessly, which was not ideal with those sneaky hands clawing at her sensitive torso.

“Waitwaitwait!” Korra gasped out, and probably just to tease, Asami stilled her hands for a moment.

“Hmm?” she hummed teasingly, hovering her hands above Korra’s still unprotected sides. Korra quickly moved her arms back so she could free herself from Asami’s grasp, but not planning to let her go that easily, Asami pulled her tightly against her.

Now with her arms pinned between Asami and herself, Korra squirmed uncomfortably and giggled in anticipation.

“Not tickled to death you say?” she brought out, and Asami smirked and nodded, reaching out to her sides again and making Korra cackle as she continued the tickling.

“Yup. You’re the almighty Avatar, so you wouldn’t die from a little tickling would you?” she taunted in a baby voice, and Korra squealed loudly. The tickle struggle soon turned into a wrestling match that ended up on the floor, with Asami pinning Korra down, her hands skillfully reaching out to find each of Korra’s tickle spots: hips, sides, ribs, knees, underarms.

“AHAhaa A-Ahaahaasami!” Korra laughed, and the hand she had been using to push her strong girlfriend away - in vain - slowly raised, trembling and fist clenching.

“Na-ah, you remember the rules. No bending indoors,” Asami scolded before Korra could even do anything, and she removed one hand from Korra’s ticklish body to grab her hand. Forcing her to unclench her hand, she traced a finger down the palm and Korra giggled adorably.

“B-but this is unfahahair!” she giggled, squirming and trying to pull her hand free.

“Someone’s got ticklish hands! That’s a new one I should remember.“ Asami smiled sweetly and kissed her hand.

“D-done now?” Korra asked breathlessly, and she errupted in more sweet giggles when Asami fluttered her fingers from the palm of her hand up her arm, scribbling all the way towards her underarms. The closer she reached that one very ticklish spot, the more Korra’s giggles increased in volume.

“Nohoho Asami! Stop! W-what have I done to deserve this?” she giggled, still desperately trying to squirm away from her evil girlfriend in her Avatar Day - shirt.

“Being cute, that’s all.” That awful tease. Asami returned to the more ruthless tickling, fingers attacking Korra’s underarms like there was no tomorrow, and eliciting the loudest, shrieking laughter from the young woman.

“HEHEHE STAhahap!” Korra kicked and thrashed, but Asami had pretty good experience handling her, so she tickled her until she could barely breathe.

“There. Now I’m hungry,” she sighed, and she planted a sweet kiss on Korra’s half parted lips and got up to stuff the food she bought in the microwave. Korra panted heavily and got up on all fours, her whole body trembling from the after-giggles.

“M-me too…” she said as she picked herself up, and she practically jumped on Asami from behind, her legs wrapping around her waist and arms around her neck like a crazy monkey.

“Korra?!“ While Asami stumbled forward with her on top of her, Korra blew raspberry after raspberry on the back of her neck, and sometimes used her teeth to nibble. Asami exploded in a laughing fit at the ticklish torment on her neck, and she stumbled through the room to shake Korra off.

Looked like they weren’t getting their lunch anytime soon. But that was just an average day in their fluffy lives together, just a ticklish day marked as Avatar Day.

[starzblvd]

Somethin’ Stupid | pt.2

Ellie wasn’t one to do sports but she sure as hell was when you started cheering for a certain blonde soccer captain

AN; To preface, next part will be the last one! This was supposed to come out earlier really sorry for the delay, I got really sick recently and I had no energy, I don’t really have an idea how soccer teams work so bear with me if it’s slightly off</3 + thank you to all 200 followers!! Sending love to everyone of you 💕 I noticed my series don’t do as well so I’ll definitely try harder for plots, autumn hc’s coming soon because I love fall and I’m tired of summer🍂 jealous!ellie and Abby trying to stir shit

This early in the morning Ellie didn’t take your sleep into consideration, not when she was knocking on your door dozens of times. After a minute of you groaning into your pillow refusing to get up she picked up the amount of strength she put into each knock at the door, that coupled with the let me in’s Ellie yelled into the gap of the doorframe.

She’d usually give a notice before coming over, initially you thought you’d slept through the notifications from any calls or messages of giving a prior notice, but there were none from Ellie. Had she even seen the messages you left two days ago? Ellie went off the grid for those two days, you were hesitant on continually calling to check if she was okay. Each time you contacted her in any form the voicemail she forgot to setup would play over again.

Finally allowing Ellie to come in, she beelined straight to the unmade bed right on top of the disheveled blanket.

“You weren’t replying yesterday so I decided to check on you, to make sure you weren’t hurt or anything.”

“I’m so sorry El’s I was just,” Some part of you felt guilty for hanging out with Abby, despite Ellie knowing, what Ellie didn’t know was how much you truly enjoyed hanging out with Abby.

“just what?” Ellie was deliberately interrogating, making it known with that authoritative tone you’ve only heard her use a bit speckled overtime, almost like she knew just exactly how you were smiling and laughing along with Abby’s stories. Ellie was just waiting on your retelling of what Dina let her in on, the girl you meet in a cafe yesterday, and the girl that even walked you back to your room.

“Was just meeting up with Abby, it was whatever.”

Had it been truly whatever you wouldn’t have set another day to see her again, playing for the team Abby was so boastful about. She gleamed when you agreed to attending her game and taking the offer to see her win in the front row. No matter where’d you could’ve taken a seat Abby would notice you regardless.

“must’ve not been whatever if she took all your attention all night in that stupid cafe.” Ellie’s eyebrows met closer and closer, the lack of insight of the evening you shared with Abby was making her disgruntled. More so when you refrained from giving any form of details.

“how’d you know we were there?” The situation was not descuaslating, the air was choking out any possible leeway to ease the tension.

“Just…Just thought you’d be there.”

Ellie looks around the room, growing conscious to how heavy this conversation was growing into. She didn’t mean to come to you solely to shame the lack of attention you spared Ellie into spilling the entire evening to her, she wanted to see you. In a way to make sure that the single outing didn’t take any more of your special attention that only Ellie seemed to hold.

“I really am sorry-“

“It’s fine you know, going out with Abby. It doesn’t bother me, if that’s what you think.” Her eyebrows settled back into their natural position, truly it did bother her and knowing that felt sweet. Maybe too sweet, the feeling was clawing your insides with plenty of guilt even further so.

“I’ll make sure to keep my phone off silent next time.” The familiar smile shining onto Ellie took some weight off her back, her head fell towards the floor laughing at the situation and herself for the reactions she was strongly conveying to you in your pjs, the sleep in your eyes begging to let your eyelids shut again.

Catching the new pace of the conversation she was ready to surprise you with the news she was preparing the previous two days to be able to say aloud.

“You know that game next week? I’m that games goalie now.”

Ellie went into a small proud gloat, the story as to how she made her way into the team was that the previous goalie conveniently failed a drug test recently, an urgency for a fill in, and a small white lie of previous experience.

“When’s the last time you actually tried in sports? You’ve got to be lying.”

“it wasn’t that hard to get in, have some faith in me.”

Her gloat transferred right into her smirk, she knew exactly what this eluded too. How could you cheer for a girl you met just recently over the girl you’ve harbored a friendship for more than a year with? Ellie was cutting right into any of Abby’s plan of having your eyes only follow her on the field.

“Maybe if you cheer hard enough for me I’ll let you keep my jersey.” A toothy smile sprung right onto her face.

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

“This isn’t right, how the fuck did she get a position?” Abby was pacing rounds into the carpet of her dorm. She was more than furious about the new temporary fill in to the teams setup.

“Look, she is credited to be not half bad compared to the rest of the contenders, and you can’t have an empty spot when a game is so close.”

“I’ll personally find someone else, literally anyone else than Williams.”

A migraine was pounding straight into her skull, Abby was up and ready to kick Ellie to the curb from her team if she physically could. Angry at not being involved with the discussion of choosing a new member for a team she captained for.

Abby knew exactly why Ellie made her way into a team and sport she never prior had interest in. The only interest she could’ve really had was you, she had not doubt that was the reason. This was evidently pilling more wood to the flame that was feeding Abby’s temper.

It was Abby’s turn to set her mind on a plan to keep you away from the competition, to the extent of making all her intents and further actions to getting back at whatever Ellie was pulling off. Abby was sure to make it hell for Ellie as the teams new goalie.

“You know what, don’t bother.”

In her mind she was already conjuring just the plan she needed. Hanging up she immediately ran to find your contact, sending out rings from your phone when she did. Seeing you again would set her at ease enough to get through her sudden stress being flung at her.

“Hey it’s Abby, you know I just noticed I had some free time and since you have no plans today I thought we could meet up again.”

Meeting with you was a small tactic to consume more of your time and thoughts, or enough to keep you distracted enough so you’d choose her and not Ellie’s company.

Your voice isn’t what Abby’s invite would receive, on the other line it was replaced with an annoyed reply from Ellie, “She’s busy.”

Abby swore the prolonged beep of the hang up was going to make her ears pop then go insane.

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

“who was that?”

Since Ellie’s stay was lasting longer than initially expected you were working something up for her to eat. Especially knowing Ellie practically made her journey to you immediately after waking up.

Ellie’s hunger was clouded by the immense amount of cockiness she was emitting, couldn’t help the smirk that was tattooing itself on her face.

“Just some telemarketer, don’t worry about it.” Didn’t take much work to remove any slight evidence that indicated Abby tried contacting you. To Ellie this included the complete eraser-sure of Abby’s contact information in general, had she sent any more messages she would’ve gone all out to block her number.

”ugh they’re so annoying I swear, it’s embarrassing when my phone rings when I’m somewhere quiet.”

“yeah they’re really annoying.” Ellie watched the grip of your hand holding the pan still for you to properly scramble her eggs. Moments just like this made it so it would feel like this was a moment taken from a regular day of a couple that’s shared years of days just like this one.

The gaze of her eyes could’ve scorched you red if you’d see the exact way it’d linger on you. A gaze that always remained reserved just for you. Unknowing to the face that Ellie never focused on other people as intently as she currently did, fixated on you prepping her breakfast.

Ellie walked over to find a spot right beside you, having her shoulder press against to yours. You couldn’t differentiate if you were warming up from the portable cookers flames or the blooming pink that appeared on your face following Ellie’s slight touch.

You could’ve happily stayed stuck as is in this spot with Ellie, but the toast had already jumped up and the eggs were done. Unwilling you left the cozy standing point to finish Ellie’s meal, it wouldn’t matter as she followed you around like a lost puppy, here and everywhere else you’d go together for that matter.

With an urgency to continue spending more time with Ellie it occurred to invite her along to a mundane much needed shopping trip.

“Hey do you want to tag along with me to the store I need to pickup some stuff,”

“yeah, I’m down.” Right as you finished placing Ellie’s warm plate down she laid her head onto your back. You could feel the small breathes escaping her nose in slow intervals, turning over you to face her you could closely inspect the smallest details of Ellie’s face.

The deepness of the scar left on her eyebrow, every wrinkle on her lips, every single sprinkled on freckle she had, the gentle way Ellie’s eyelashes beautifully accompanied her eyes and the messy hair you’ll always love. For a singular moment you were compelled to come into closer proximity and cut the distance to her face to plant a small kiss on the lips you’ve yearned for, and maybe in that moment it it would’ve all been natural.

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

Walking with Ellie on campus compared to the walk back with Abby contrasted heavily. With Ellie, laugh after laugh escaped from the both of you, talking about anything with her was entertaining enough for you.

Walking over to a grocery store wasn’t a big issue because of how close they were to the campus. Because of the shortcut Ellie suggested on taking you’d have to pass by the regular location soccer practice took place. It was the weekend so Abby and her team wouldn’t be there, they weren’t supposed to be. So when Abby was practicing with only a few other players it caught you off guard. Radiating under the sun with the built up of sweat glazing her arms and face.

“Your shoes untied.” Ellie hitched you out of the shocked state after seeing the people a few yards away from you in your peripheral vision.

“Oh yeah,”

with Ellie right next to you didn’t help soothe the nagging paranoia that was eating away at you. After Abby laid on the question if Ellie was your girlfriend it felt counteractive to be parading around Ellie so fondly publicly the next day. In the few seconds you were hurdled over your shoe quickly looping the laces together, praying Abby would fail to notice you and Ellie. Attempting to ignore the feeling of a stare digging into your skin, but you wouldn’t have to worry as the stare wasn’t fully directed towards you.

A loud kick shot out from their direction then another loud thud was sent next to to you, plunging straight into Ellie’s face. By how strong of a kick it was the impact left a painful sting and it was burying down into her skin, Ellie grunting flashing whoever sent the ball her way a sharp scowl. It just had to be Abby.

[hana-bobo-finch]

screw it I’m bored I’m gonna write a pikmin fanfic right here right now on the fly lmao

tw for mentions of ptsd but it’s generally in a lighthearted tone like the rest of it, nothing too dark I think, but just putting it out there

“Yon!” Dingo screeched, barreling into Yonny’s lab. “Look at what that—that mutt did to me!” He shoved his arm into Yonny’s face. Yonny gave it a cursory glance before going back to his work—that work being forging a medical license, but it was work nonetheless. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Dingo to come to Yonny with some nonexistent medical issue. Maybe it was to get out of work, maybe he was actually worried about his health. Probably the first option. The guy who once chugged a bottle of chemicals with zero hesitations didn’t strike yonny as a hypochondriac.

He could feel Dingo’s icy stare tracking his every move, every elegant pen stroke coming together to form a perfectly forged PhD, watching, waiting for him to say something. He shouldn’t. As yonny so eloquently wrote in his notes, “It’d be like giving a dog treats for pissing on the floor. And in this case the treats would be attention. And the piss would be fake medical issues. And the floor would be me—ok, maybe it’s not the best analogy.”

“What’d oatchi do, hm?” He said, relenting. It’d be a lot easier to ignore Dingo if he wasn’t such good company.

“Truthfully?” Dingo whispered, leaning into Yonny’s ear. “Nothin’. But, like I’m thinkin’, maybe if shepherd thinks the dog’s causing trouble, she’ll get rid of him. Y’know, send him to the farm.”

Yonny startled at dingo’s closeness. And the fact he was talking about getting Oatchi euthanized. “Are you insane?” He said in a harsh whisper. Ironic, an accusation of insanity, coming from Yonny. “I can assure you the captain would euthanize you before she would ever consider doing so to oatchi.”

“What?” Dingo drew back, eyes widened in shock. “Wait, where’d all that come into play? And the captain wants to euthanize me? Where did this come from? But, I mean, if that’s what she wants…” He went red in the face and pressed his index fingers together.

“Do you know what people mean by sending pets to the farm?” Yonny asked.

“‘Course I do. Wasn’t born yesterday,” Dingo huffed. “I was talking with that freak-show hocotation guy, ‘cause he was stealin—er, borrowing food with me, and he said that he grew up around farms and stuff. And sometimes there’d be an abandoned space dog or somethin’, and, y’know, he’d adopt it. So I think oatchi should be sent to one of those places so I don’t have to see him around.”

Yonny stared at Dingo absentmindedly for a few seconds before snapping back to the moment. “Riiiight. That’s not what it generally means. Not at all.” He spun around in his swivel chair a few time before turning back to Dingo, hands folded on his lap. “But, I’m glad you’ve brought up the subject.”

“Of euthanasia?” Dingo looked a bit scared. “Hey man, I’ll drink corrosive chemicals that make my esophagus feel like it’s on fire for you. But I won’t die for you. Unless it was like, in some really heroic way. Like if a really scary animal tried to attack you, like…let’s just say, arbitrarily, a dog, I’d totally lay down my life for you. And you could hold me on your lap as I slowly die and hold my hand and gently kiss my forehead telling me I did a good job stopping those evil mutts. Not in a gay way.”

It was definitely in a gay way.

“No,” Yonny said flatly. No matter how much reading he does, he’ll never be able to find the words to respond to someone spewing such nonsense at such high speeds. “I mean, dogs. Your fear of dogs. I wanted to speak with you about that, eheheh.”

Dingo went pale, slowly backing away before shaking his head. “It’s ridiculous you think it’s a fear. I just don’t like them. Simple as that.” He paused for a moment before the words spilled out.

“And, you know, if it was a fear, it’d be perfectly natural. They have sharp teeth and claws and they bark really loudly. And so what if it is? Who are you to judge? Every time I see those stupid mutts I get all sweaty and…and sweaty, and I start thinkin’ about that time that stupid dog tried to “rescue” me! I didn’t even need rescuin’. It tried to kill me an’ bite my limbs off. The incompetent leader in charge didn’t even try to stop it. I think that guy was shepherd’s father. I think her mom must’ve had an affair because there’s no way such an angel came from that monster. Under his watch the stupid animal just dragged me all around even though I could’ve probably walked fine. I mean, I was a little disoriented and I occasionally blacked out but that doesn’t mean I had to be dragged around like a ragdoll. An’ I can’t think of anything but that when I see that dog shepherds constantly calling the cutest little boy to ever exist, and I don’t know how such a horrifying creature can be called that! Especially when the—when the cutest little boy to ever exist is me…”

Yonny gave him a minute to catch his breath after his marathon of run-on sentences before waiting to see if he had anything else to add. When he said nothing more, Yonny simply told him, “I’m certainly no psychiatrist, but it sounds like you may have some form of post traumatic stress—”

“Are you for real?” Dingo burst out. “Like, what those badass people have?”

“It’s much more complicated than that. It can cause horrible anxiety and stress. I’d recommend you see a psychiatrist for a proper—”

“Oh, that’s the best thing I’ve heard all week!” Dingo shook Yonny’s hand like he was receiving a medal instead of a referral to a psychiatrist. “Thank you. You know who’s gonna find that really cool? Shepherd.”

“I don’t think—”

Dingo was already gone.

“Captain!” Dingo shouted, running towards shepherd. “You’ll never guess what yonny just told me!” Before shepherd could get any words out, he kept talking. “Well, I don’t hate dogs cause I’m an asshole, I don’t like dogs cause I have trauma related to them!” He beamed proudly. Yes, this was his key to shepherds heart! Of course, a seasoned captain like herself would find such a thing to be cool. On cue, she wrapped her arms around him. Finally! This was it! True love’s kiss would happen aaaaany second now!

“I’m so sorry, dingo! I didn’t know!”

What

That ain’t right

“If I had known, I would’ve kept oatchi away from you. I’ll be sure to keep him away from you from now on.”

Huh

Where’s true love

“And I’ll tell captain olimar to make sure moss doesn’t bother you either, ok?”

WHERE THE HELL IS TRUE LOVE

“Thank you for telling me, alright?” She let go and patted him on the shoulder before walking off.

That wasn’t meant to happen

Wasn’t that supposed to be hot

Why did he get sympathy for that

He crumpled to the ground, sobbing. Yonny walked up next to him and said nothing.

“I thought that would work!” Dingo cried. “Everything was going just fine until she started, I dunno, caring about my emotions! She should be caring about how handsome I am.”

“I care,” Yonny said.

“…‘Bout what, euthanasia? You freak, why’re you still talking about that? That conversation ended so long ago man, just let me wallow in my own misery for a while.”

~~the end!!!,! I’m so tired~~~

[cass-the-mess]

Take Me Home

What if Price was the one to fall by the hands of Makarov?

This one is for @stararch4ngelqueen, my angst partner and the person who inspires me to write these things the most 🫡 ❤️

TW: Major character death, blood, gore, injury description, ANGST!! No happy ending here folks.

Pairing: Reader "Zero" X Captain John Price

AN: I'm using Zero as the callsign but this is an ALTERNATE ending to MW3, and therefore not canon to my current fic Callsign: Zero, this is also a drabble so stuff is probably not accurate since Price doesn't die in the OG version and this is my own my version of it.

Heavy droplets of rain trickle down your neck and into your already soaked gear, the raging storm around you not seeming to let up as you look into the scope of your rifle, your heartbeat thundering in your ears as you try to stay calm.

A crack of lightning flashes before you, the heavy rumble of the thunder making the ground shake dangerously below you, your breath hitches as you fight to contain the panic clawing at the back of your throat, the heavy ball of it resting uneasily in your chest, growing heavier and heavier with each passing second.

“Task Force, this is Zero, how copy?” You speak into the radio at your shoulder, a last-ditch effort to try and regain communication with your team. The dull buzzing from the communication device indicating the lack of connection from the other members.

You curse under your breath as tears of frustration start welling up in your eyes, a short sob escaping you as you hiccup quietly from your perch on the roof of the decrepit building you’re currently hiding on. Tears blur your eyes as you try to blink them away, scanning the empty road and buildings across you, waiting, hoping, praying that your team is safe somewhere out there.

“Z? Zero this is Gaz, how copy?” A rough voice coughs out suddenly through the radio, startling you out of your panic, you fumble with the device attached to your vest, almost dropping it in the process.

“Gaz? Gaz, this is Zero, what’s your position?” You rush out, pushing your earpiece further into your ear, straining to hear what’s happening on the other end of the line.

“Got roughed up pretty bad, caught a bullet, don’t know where the others are, we got separated I think, Price is going after Makarov alone.” He wheezes painfully, his words choppy and slurred as he tries to relay the information, your heart seizing up in your thorax.

“Fuck. Okay, don’t move, I’m coming to you, can you describe your surroundings?” You tell him, getting up from where you were hiding previously, the earlier plan going out the door now that that your team had been compromised.

“Y-Yeah, hmm fuck, ‘bout 250 meters north out from your position, last building on the street, blue car in the driveway, can’t miss it.” He tells you, pain evident in his voice.

“Gaz? Where’d you get shot, can you stop the bleeding until I get there?” You ask him, your panic growing at the pain in his voice.

“Yeah- s’just a graze on my side, not even bleeding that much, think I might’ve broke my leg though.” He chuckles dryly, groaning as you hear him shuffling on the ground, a sigh of relief forcing its way out of you.

“Zero- I, listen, call med evac for me, you need to go after Price, he won’t make it if he goes after Makarov alone, I don’t know where the rest of the team is, but you can’t let him do this alone.” He tells you, his tone suddenly extremely somber, you feel your stomach drop at his statement, the panic that had been steadily growing in you, suddenly wrapping its claws around your lungs and squeezing, forcing you to a stop.

“Gaz, what are you talking about?” You rasp out, your legs burning from exertion as you fly down the flights of stairs to get to the ground floor, urgency pushing you to your limit.

“Just. GO.” He whispers harshly into your earpiece, clicking his communication device off simultaneously. You barely have time to react when the rumbling of an explosion throws you off balance, launching you to the ground, the ground shaking with the force of it.

You gasp as you look into the distance at the damage, a fire burning bright through the night, flames licking up the sides of the structures surrounding them, almost blinding you with its brightness, making you choke on the force of your own emotions.

At that moment your radio comes back to life, a crackle of electricity going through it before you hear the voice of your fellow lieutenant almost screaming through it, you scramble at your equipment to grab it, pushing on the button on the side to open your end of the line.

“ZERO! WE NEED BACKUP, NOW! PRICE IS COMPROMISED, I REPEAT- PRICE HAS BEEN COMPROMISED.” He screams through, panic bleeding through each of his words, you can almost hear the fire burning so close to him through the radio.

“Ghost? I’m on way, calling med evac ASAP, where’s Makarov?” You question him as you start running through the rubble towards the burning inferno, adrenaline pumping through your veins and pushing you forward, no longer caring for stealth. You send out a distress signal, letting the evac team know that they need to come and prepare for casualties.

“He’s in that fucking building with the captain, we lost eyes on them when it exploded, Soap is wounded but he can still fight.” He tells you, his voice rough with emotion, panic betraying his usually calm façade.

You run through the abandoned streets of the area you’re in, the rain hitting your skin with more and more force the closer you get to the burning fire, the sting of each droplet making you wince as you push through your exhaustion, the only thing keeping you going is the need to bring everyone back to safety, your own panic temporarily forgotten.

You round one last corner and come face to face with the giant inferno, the flames growing more and more violent as the wind picks up, the heat almost too much to bear. You look around for a way into the burning building, your mind trying to come up with ways to get through to get the captain and get out.

“Through the back! There’s an opening through the back where the fire hasn’t reached yet!” A voice shouts from a distance, you turn around to watch as Ghost walks up to you, supporting Soap with one shoulder and supporting his gun with the other. You nod quickly as you start running towards the burning structure, your heart beating wildly in your chest.

You find the opening quickly, your head on a swivel as you take a rag from your pocket, covering your nose and mouth from the smoke engulfing the space around you. You don’t have time to push in, a massive body tackling you to the ground as another explosion rings out, the wind knocking out of you as your head hits the pavement, stars swimming in your eyes for a second.

You open your eyes and push the body off of you, not realizing who it is yet as you watch the remaining structure crumble to pieces, rubble falling to the ground, causing it to vibrate under your feet.

You turn around then, your eyes zeroing on the man at your feet, your breath punching out of you when you make out his features, the familiar outline of his beard melting in with the dirt coating his face, speckles of blood splattered on his skin.

You gasp, your legs giving out from under you as you try to reach him, tears blurring your vision as a sob escapes you, the reality of the situation suddenly hitting you full force. You tug at the equipment strapped to the man’s chest, a newfound urgency possessing you.

Thick, warm blood coats your gloves as a strangled gasp escapes him, his hands coming up to grasp yours, wild eyes trying to focus on your features, smearing blood further on you as his mouth moves below you, trying to form words to no avail, he starts to cough then, choking on the liquid slowly filling his thoracic cavity, drowning.

“John! Please John! No, no, no. Come on, stay with me captain.” You scream, ripping off your gloves to try and pinpoint the source of the bleeding, his gasps becoming more and more strangled, bloody fingers reaching for your face as your cries grow louder in the night.

You hear hurried footsteps behind you as you rip open his shirt. Bloody, mangled skin meets your tear-stricken eyes, another sob chokes itself out of you as you find the source of the bleeding, multiple bullet wounds to the chest. You take a shaky breath before lifting up his top half from the ground, your eyes finding multiple exit wounds with blood slowly trickling out of them, staining the dirt below, the metallic smell of it choking you.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” You curse through your sobs, rolling him to his back once more, your hands coming to his chest, pressing down on the wounds to staunch the flow of blood as you watch the life drain from his eyes, pupils slowly losing focus as his own stained hands still reach for you, one of them grasping your cheek firmly, forcing you to look at him.

“Y/N…” He gasps out, the syllables of your name slurred as he tries to voice his last words, calloused hand still holding your cheek, cold slowly seeping into his weakening body as he searches your features for comfort. Blood staining your tear-stained cheeks as the rain continues its assault, dark red turning to a soft pink as it slides off your face and back onto the ground below you.

Ghost and Soap drop down next to you at that moment, breaths heaving with exhaustion as they take in the extent of the damage, Ghost taking out stims from his bag and immediately injecting Price with one of them, a strangled gasp escaping him at the sudden rush of adrenaline.

“Where’s evac?” You cry out as you press down harder on the man’s chest, Soap coming next to you to add more pressure, the sound of helicopters in the distance overshadowing the sounds of the raging storm around you. Ghost takes a flare out of his belt and lights it to alert them of your position.

“John? John come on, stay with it yeah? We’ll fix you right up old man.” You tell him, your voice breaking as you try to give him a reassuring smile.

“N-not gonna- make it, l-love.” He answers, his own lips twisting into a pained smiled, blood trickling out of his mouth, another coughing fit taking hold of him as his fingers slip from your face.

“Take me home…” He mumbles quietly, so low you think you might’ve hallucinated it.

“Fuck, we’re losing him LT, there’s too much blood.” Soap panics next to you, his own voice overtaken with emotion as he watches the life slip out of his captain’s body, warmth draining from his bloodied form, voices shouting orders in the distance as the evac team finally lands.

You watch in horror as the man you love slips through your helpless fingers, his normally bright blue eyes, becoming blurred and unfocused, the blue turning to a lifeless grey. His breathing becoming more and more shallow with each passing second before he finally lets out one last strangled wheeze as he goes limp on the cold hard ground beneath him.

The two men at your side letting out a strangled cry as you stare unblinking at him, your own hands slowly slipping from his chest. You sit back on your heels and look at your bloodied hands, tears coming freely from your eyes now, your mind bending and breaking as wave upon wave of grief crashes into you, the sliver of happiness you thought you had, snatched from your hands before you’d even had the chance to taste it properly.

You faintly hear someone talking to you, the words seeming so far away, like a dull echo, the words not registering in your mind as your eyes stay fixed on your lover’s body. Hands grab your shoulder as if to gain your attention, but you simply can’t bring yourself to care, eyes sliding up to rest on John’s beautifully broken face, his eyes still open and staring at you, even with no life in them, his eyes still hold so much love in them. A love you never thought you’d ever be deserving of.

You stay on your knees next to him for what feels like an eternity, your own eyes becoming unfocused at the rain washes away the traces of blood from your hands, the ground below soaking up the captain’s life force, leaving only a cold carcass in its wake, people around you still working relentlessly to bring everyone else home, safe and sound where they’ll see their family and enjoy a warm meal surrounded by those they love.

Not you though, you’re going back to an empty house filled with memories that will no doubt fade in time, you’re going back to a home holding the smell of the man who once held your broken heart in his careful hands and spent countless hours putting it back together, breaking down the walls you’d built around it to replace them with a home, filled with warmth, and love, and laughter.

A home you’d plan to live in together, maybe even have children in, retire in, and live happily ever after in.

No such luck in your life after all, people like you don’t get happy endings.

People like him only live to die.

[astralisbelle]

Dead Man's Hand 1 - Peli's Apprentice

Dead Man's Hand Masterlist tags: tags: engineer!reader, gambler!reader, loose canon timeline, eventual smut, fluff, action, casino aesthetics, touch starved reader, touch starved din, reader and din get on each other’s nerves, also they’re idiots, defrosting ice king din, cinderella vibes, everybody loves grogu

chapter summary: Mando meets Peli's new apprentice

The Razor Crest lands with a lurch and a drop far too close for comfort, but at least he made it.

He spots the mechanic marching up to his ship, ready for a lecture that he knows is coming. With a sigh, he pulls the levers to park the ship. “Well,” he says to his little green companion. “Let’s get this over with.”

The Mandalorian steps out, holding Grogu against his hip with one arm. Peli stands with her arms crossed as the small droids scatter in the presence of the man. “What did you do to it?!” she scolds.

“Bounty hunting isn’t exactly a safe profession,” he says. Grogu coos as if he agrees. Peli can be as cross as she likes with the Mandalorian, but she softens immediately at the sight of Grogu’s black, beady eyes. Her tight frown loosens to a smile.

“Alright. Thankfully, you’re in luck. I’ve got just the person to help me out with this one.” Peli sticks two fingers in her mouth and gives a loud whistle. “Hey, Rookie, you’re up!”

“Coming!” a distant, feminine voice calls out. Emerging from the office, lugging a large box of tools in her arms is a young woman in a similar mechanic’s uniform. Dust and grime peppers her face and clothes, giving her a plain appearance. She sets down the tool box and as she straightens her back, her eyes meet his visor. “Whoa… don't tell me. You must be the Mandalorian.” She seems star-struck for a moment.

Peli pats her shoulder. “That's right! This is my best customer. And this little womp rat is Grogu!”

The girl makes eye contact with the child who raises a clawed hand in an attempt to wave. She laughs and waves back before extending her hand to Din, telling him her name. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He does not take her hand.

Peli gently pulls her back. “Don’t mind him. It’s not a personal thing. Why don’t you round up the droids and get started on the ship?”

“A-Ah. Sure.” She clears her throat and drops her hand to the side.

“I wanted you to look at the ship,” he tells Peli. “Not some kid.”

The girl puts her hands on her hips. “Now just wait a second.” She straightens her back, but even then, he eclipses her in height. “Who are you calling a kid? Do I look like I still go to school?”

“Alright, alright.” Peli pats her shoulder again. “Save your energy for the repairs. Get started.” The apprentice raises a brow, waiting for him to interject again. When he remains silent, she huffs and takes her tools.

“C’mon, guys!” she says to the droids. “Looks like we got our work cut out for us.” She storms off with the droids and once she is out of earshot, Peli gestures for him to follow her.

“I know, I know. Got more fire than the twin suns combined, but she’s brilliant.”

Din had figured with all the droids and her own intellect, Peli didn’t need the help. He sets Grogu down to give him a chance to stretch his little legs and leans against the wall, watching the apprentice as she scales the ship, connecting cables and directing the droids.

“Where’d you pick her up?”

“Wanna hear the story, Grogu?” He lifts his ears, giving a sound of affirmation. “Went to the cantina for a drink and this young woman is sitting in a corner booth with a deck of cards. She was playing with some others for spare parts and credits. But then, she gets caught cheating, is my guess. Gets about three blasters in her face, ready to fire before I step in.”

“And why’d you do that?”

“She knew her parts and components. I thought with a little refinement, she’d make a good assistant. So I sweet talked the players, offered her a job where she’s less likely to get shot at, and I have more free time! It’s a win-win.”

Din chuckles at Peli’s ever present ability to make opportunities for herself. He watches the girl act swiftly, as if she had worked on the Razor Crest a dozen times before. She is like him, he concludes, that each were scouted for their innate talent towards different abilities, taken in by people not of their blood.

“I’ll be the judge of her work.”

Peli beams, a sense of pride in her voice. “You won’t be disappointed.”

[yourbestpalpercy]

Well, this was a weird dream…

At the moment, Pal was speaking to a strange android that was waay too intrusive about Pal being human. Pal had to fight the thoughts of tearing the thing apart with his wires. “Please stop!” Pal hissed, slapping the Tartar’s hand rather aggressively. “I hate being touched…” Pal hissed.

The android, Tartar, moved his hand away. “So, where’d you come from?” It asked, brushing off what Pal said. “I’m from Maine! Welton, Maine…” Pal took a few quick steps away from Tartar. “HA! Maine’s been underwater for exactly 11,067 years! It was actually one of the first places to go under!”

“Then explain how exactly I’m here!” Pal tightly grabbed Tartar’s hand when he went to poke his head band. “And stop. Touching. Me.” Tartar yanked his hand away.

“Hm, maybe you should recount the events before arriving here?” Tartar tilted his head roughly.

“Well, I remember creating a machine…one of my Tamaz entered it while I wasn’t looking and- wait! Wait! D-Did you see a particularly lanky, black creature with the body of a tamagotchi by any chance??” Pal’s tail flicked free, the tip shaking quickly behind him.

“Tama..gotchi creature? Uhm, I think I saw something simil- Is that a tail!?” Tartar shouted, suddenly with disgust in his voice.

“Huh?” Pal glanced back before shoving his tail back away, “Uh- no?? Not at all! Just a stray cable,” Pal smiled a fake smile.

“Likely story, I saw that! It was moving like a tail!” Tartar glared into Pal’s eyes.

“No idea what you’re talking about.”

“You do though.”

“Are you sure it was a tail though? It’s awfully dark here.”

“I’m very sure! That was a tail!”

“Hmmm…nope! I don’t think it was.”

Tartar suddenly grabbed Pal by his shoulders and shook him, “You’re not human-...what are you…?” He coldly asked, grabbing Pal even tighter.

“I-I-I wouldn’t assume-!” Pal hissed when Tartar suddenly dug his claws into Pal’s shoulder, drawing some green blood and covering his hand.

“And what’s this, hm? I know humans better than anyone. They don’t have green blood…”

“What- what makes you think that?” Pal pulled away from Tartar and tried to stop the bleeding before it healed up quickly.

“Your blood stopped quicker than it’s supposed to…hm..” Tartar suddenly slashed Pal’s chest, causing more of that green blood to stain his claws. The green light that came from the blood was enough to allow Tartar to see Pal’s quick healing.

“...fast healing, impressive…” Pal suddenly attempted to run away when Tartar stepped on his tail and grabbed him. “I hope you don’t mind. I just need a little bit of this…” Pal spun around quickly and dug his black claws into Tartar’s horn. “LET ME GO!” A wire erupted from Pal’s back now to shove Tartar away from him.

Tartar grabbed Pal tighter before snapping his fingers. Some strange, purple sparks started to shoot from a panel on the back of his head as Pal kept shoving and trying to push and wriggle his way out of Tartar’s grasp. His crank started spinning fast. “YOU AIN’T THE FIRST CRAZY AI I’VE FOUGHT AND YOU WON’T BE LAST I BEAT!”

“Bold of you to assume you’ll win this!” Tartar bit down on Pal’s wires and continued to hold him in place. Pal could hear something coming but couldn’t quite make out what until Tartar opened a door and flung the inventor inside. Instantly, his eyes filled with colors before the platform raised, bringing him to a container.

“Kids! Seriously, so annoying…” Tartar grumbled and crossed his arms.

“I’M 30 YEARS OLD! I HAVE A DRIVER’S LICENSE, YOU JERK!” Pal screamed, slamming his fists on the glass.

“It still counts!” Tartar hissed back before staring at the buttons before him. “Now, let’s see here…”

“Is this a f*cking blender!?” Pal kicked at the walls of the container.

“Correct! Have fun while I extract the blood I need, you mimic…” Tartar leaned on the button. “While your death rapidly approaches, you tell me about this other world, will you? The one with humans!” Tartar smiled sickeningly.

“I’m not a mimic! I did, truly, use to be human! I’m not telling you what changed though!” Pal was cut off- oh, sorry, cut up rather quickly afterwards.

“Huh, oh well, you are rather tiny…” Tartar mumbled, disappointed until Pal shot up from the blood inside the blender, fully reformed.

“Oh! How pleasant!” Tartar smiled excitedly, “You reformed!”

“Of course I did! I can’t die! I’ve tried so–!”

Tartar pressed the button again, cutting Pal up again before he reformed and now tried to keep himself above the green blood.

“You’re psychotic!”

“STOP THAT!”

“IT DOESN’T HURT BUT–!”

By the time the blender was full, Pal was pulling himself out of the blender and coughing up his own blood. “W-W-W-Was that necessary…??” Pal hacked before Tartar picked him up, grinning and giggling.

“Very necessary. See, you’re actually worth something. You’re playing a valuable role in my experiments. This blood could be extremely useful…if the effect applies to everything else!”

Wires suddenly exploded from Pal’s back, holding Tartar still. Pal wasted no time slamming Tartar into the blender and submerging him. “Asshole! Now then, I’m going to go find Tamalanki IN PEACE!” Pal closed the blender afterwards so Tartar would have a harder time chasing him.

“Jesus…!” Pal grabbed the bridge of his nose before a portal reformed before him and pulled him in. Guess that happened to TamaLanki too because when Pal reawoke in his warehouse, TamaLanki was rambling on about what happened to him to the other Tamaz…

[aliceislostsblog]

Secret Life Ending

Notes: this is my first time making something like this! It’s v short but I wanted to make something about the ending of SL!

~~~

The arrow shoots, and Pearl screams. She jumps back, retreating to the ravine, and Scar looks behind him finally. “Oh, there was a Zombie,” he says absentmindedly.

“Pearl! I’m coming for ya! I’m coming for ya!” He shouts, going closer to the ravine.

“Where’d ya go?!” Scar yells, chasing her into the ravine. He saw her fall down there, he shot her and she fell down there. “Where’d you go?” He asks, quieter.

Silence. He didn’t kill her. He didn’t. He knows he didn’t, he doesn’t feel like he’s killed her. He doesn’t feel like the game is over. He’s still scared, he’s still half deaf with the blood pounding in his ears. He desperately searched the ravine, ignoring the zombie closing in on him.

She’s here. She has to be here. Scar doesn’t win; he doesn’t win. He can’t win. He has no chance at winning, everyone knows this.

“She’s dead, Scar,” he hears, like a whisper. Like it’s inside his own head, like it wasn’t real. It sounds an awful lot like Grian. He’s always felt like there was something there with Grian, like Grian is somehow important to him. Like his soul knows this, but he can’t remember why. It’s always been this way with Grian.

Scar freezes, sword at the ready, inhaling sharply.

“You won,” the not-voice projects again, solidifying the truth.

And Scar does feel it then, feels the overwhelming loneliness all at once. It slams him over, almost makes him fall down. “Oh,” he says softly, letting the zombie get closer. It doesn’t matter if he kills it or not; he’s won. He’s the only person left alive. He’s alone.

He can’t be alone. He can’t have won. That doesn’t-that doesn’t make any sense. “Really?” He asks out loud, hoping Grian the non-voice will respond. The Zombie starts to claw at him, but Scar can’t bring himself to care.

“Oh my god,” he tells the Zombie, looking into its undead eyes. It continues to claw at him, unhearing and unknowing. “How did that happen?” He asks the non-voice, the zombie, his fallen competitors. Anyone that might answer, that might make this make some sense.

“How’d the guy with no friends win?” He asks the zombie, and starts to laugh. Because isn’t that the truth? Here he is, alone, the victor; with no one but a zombie here to keep him company. Even when he had no friends, at least he had people to talk to. People to offer him friendship even if he couldn’t accept. People to keep his secrets, even if he was breaking the rules.

The zombie continues to claw at him, and his laughter turns to broken sobs. “How’d…how’d the guy with no friends win?”

He laughs/sobs into his hands, hearing his sword drop to the ground. The zombie keeps clawing him, and Scar finally starts to hit back. He kills the zombie with his fists, and for a split second, it isn’t a zombie anymore. For a split second he’s in a desert, not a ravine, and he’s facing his only ally/friend/enemy left in the world. He doesn’t know why he sees this.

“GG Scar!” Sounds inside his head, and it snaps him out of it. He finishes the zombie off, and starts to make his way out of the ravine. He realizes he’s on half a heart. He could just jump back in, if he wanted to.

He doesn’t.

“How did this happen?” He asks, going for laughter and ending up with tears. His face gives him away; he can hardly see through the stream of constant tears. “Like, I’m genuinely like in actual shock,” he tells no one. Maybe the voice will come back. Maybe another voice will answer. Maybe Pearl will pop up with a battle cry and put him out of his misery.

“I suppose the only thing left for us to do is literally to succeed the task,” he thinks out loud, hoping for some reassurance. He doesn’t get it; just the eerie feeling coursing through his veins that something is pleased. It’s cold. It feels like the same shock of cold he got every time he succeeded a task.

“The task, of course, this session, was to win the series,” he adds, running towards the secret keeper. He’s getting more excited; surely, when he pressed the button, he’ll die. Surely this is his escape, the fate he deserves.

He starts rambling, not even paying attention to what he’s saying anymore. A performance; that’s what the secret keeper wants. That’s what They want. The beings who made the death games, the gods who control the world. A show. That’s what this is all for, isn’t it? A show. So he performs. He rambles. He doesn’t pay attention.

He finishes his monologue by pressing the succeed button, ready for it to insta kill him. It doesn’t. Instead, it gives him five heart.

“You have succeeded.” whispers in his ears, louder than the secret keeper’s usual whispering.

Scar’s own heart stops dead in his chest, and he stares up at the secret keeper in horror. “No,” he says, whispers, yells; he doesn’t know. “No, I won,” he says. A new secret appears in his inventory, and his palms start to sweat.

His hands shake, and he opens it carefully. Win Secret Life.

“No!” Scar gasps, dropping the book on the floor. “I already did!” He hits the button again, and he gets another five hearts. He gets another book.

You have succeeded.

Scar stares at his new book in horror, breath accelerating. He hits the button again, and again, until he’s at full hearts and he has yet another new book with the same task.

“I don’t get it,” Scar whispers. “Was I not supposed to win? Because I know that! I know I shouldn’t have won! But I did, it’s over now. There’s no one left!”

A breeze. It feels like a hand on his shoulder. He realizes he’s kneeling in front of the button, realizes tears are streaming down his face. How long has he been here? How many times has he hit the button?

“It’s time to go home, Scar,” is in his head, but not out loud. There’s no one left alive to say it. He’s alone; completely and utterly alone.

“I want to,” he answers anyway, using his free hand to wipe at his face. He looks up at the secret keeper. “Let me go home.”

“Look at me, Scar,” the non-voice says. It sounds sad.

Scar looks behind him, breath hitching. Grian stands there; or something that feels like Grian. It’s more a shadow, but Scar just knows. It’s Grian. It’s offering Scar a hand, looking at him without a face.

Scar looks over Grian’s shoulder, and sees three more forms behind him. Scott. It has to be; it has stars circling its head like a halo, and its arms are hanging loosely by its sides. Pearl. It has a hood, it’s slightly red. It cocks its head to the side, watching him curiously with a hand on its hip. Behind Pearl is Martin. It has its arms crossed over its chest, its chin jutted out in defiance.

None of them have faces, all of them are shadowy, as if they aren’t really here.

“It’s time to go,” Grian says, and it sounds more real this time.

Scar is scared. He knows he has to die to join them; he knows they’re taking him away from the safety of being alive in Secret Life. But he won’t be alone, with them, will he? And it’ll be over. It’ll finally be over.

Grian offers his hand once more, and Scar can almost see his sad smile.

Scar takes it.

[pampushky]

Creature (Both Haunted & Holy)

Vinsmoke Sanji/Reader - chapter 5 - 2k

Arlong seeks to finally break you, just as the Straw Hats arrive to deliver justice.

Warning: This chapter does have descriptions of violence and the slaughter of a village, as well as the discussion of abortion. Given the genocides that are now occurring, I ask you all to be careful with your mental state.

Furthermore, it cannot be said enough, but free Palestine, free Congo, free Sudan, and free Haiti. Wars and occupations should not be legal. The only one who should have control over your own body is you, no matter your identity.

ao3 | series masterlist | masterlist | next part

You are dragged into the park by the strap on your muzzle, thrashing all the while until you are thrown into a wall, a muffled yelp released from your lips before Arlong is upon you, teeth gnashing in his fury, looking down upon you as though you are an ant caught stealing a crumb from him. And still, you fight, the water in the pools around you starting to tremble with your anger, hands slamming into his chest, leaving blackened handprints of frostbite. It is a short-lived attack back, as he slams you into the wall again, and you can physically feel one of your ribs breaking, a choked cry silenced by your muzzle as you crumple. 

“You dirty, useless creature!” Arlong roars, holding you against the wall. “After all I have done for you, this is how you repay me– the termination of my pups!”

The fishmen in the gathered crowd let out gasps as you writhe, unable to respond to him as you choke on the muzzle.

“You underestimate my knowledge of your kind,” Arlong pulls you close to his face, breath hot against your cheek, forcing you to look at him. “I know that you go into a heat, like some common dog on the street, yet you haven’t, not yet, not around me,” he snarled, before running his mouth over the bite on your shoulder, biting down again and reopening the wound, making you tense, freezing as you felt the blazer rip as he pulls away. “You are my mate, and you belong to me.” He drags you into the main building, with you fighting all the way, as the crew turns to the gate, looking at the two swordsmen who enter, Arlong simply waving his hand to deal with them.

“I bet you let him bed you,” Arlong looms over you, growling as you push yourself into the corner of the room. You’re still clutching Sanji’s blazer, trying your best to envelop yourself in his smell, anything that isn’t Arlong. You feel dizzy from blood loss, and even more guilty from the fact that the jacket is now torn, missing part of the shoulder. There’s already a new bruise forming around your neck, in the shape of a single, monstrous hand, “Hm? Bet you didn’t take any pills for him, did you, my selkie?” 

You don’t answer, only rumbling in warning, even if you can’t do anything. You’ve been muzzled, and your claws have been dulled by files weekly since you’ve gotten here. Arlong laughs at this, grabbing you easily by the leg, and pulling you towards him, despite how you scream and thrash, hitting him with your fists. He pins you down, knee to your chest, and then picks up something to the side, holding up a thick iron collar, the rattling of chains filling your ears as he holds it up for you to see.

“We’re not going to risk any more escapes,” He drawls, fitting the cool iron around your neck, and locking it into place “Not that you’d have a reason,” he grins menacingly, stepping back to admire his work. He watches as your eyes widen, feeling the collar around your neck, feebly attempting to pull it off with both hands. “Oh? Where’d the fire go?”

He leans in again, hooking a finger under the collar, forehead pressed against yours. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. I would have destroyed your home village for that little stunt you pulled, running away with that little swordsman,” He cackles at the way you start to hyperventilate, shaking your head no at him, protests muffled by the muzzle. “But, you’re lucky. I already destroyed it the day I took you.”

Your heart stops, and he watches the will to fight leave your eyes, body slumping. Finally, after two years, it seems he’s fully broken you. He brings his mouth close to the straps of the muzzle, tearing it with his teeth, and laughing as you struggle to find your voice.

“What?” You manage to croak out, eyes starting to glisten with tears. “You— You promised me,” You start to shake, and he lets you fall to the ground. “You said you’d let them be!”

“Oh, my little selkie,” Arlong coos, and you flinch under his touch, pulling away, “I couldn’t just let anyone walk into your village and have such a powerful selkie for themselves now, could I? Your island is fine. The selkenfolk still swim free, yes, but your family,” He shrugs and then pinches your cheeks with one, webbed hand. “No more Seal’s Drop.”

You let out a wail, holding your face in your hands as you shake with sobs, no tears falling no matter how hard you cry. Arlong pulls you onto his lap, laughing at how you curl inwards on yourself, unable to escape his scent, his touch, and his voice.

“Don’t worry,” He coos in your ear, nose already scratching a new line along your cheek, which he laps at, making you shudder. “I’ll be sure the seed takes this time. With enough fattening up, I’m sure your cycle will start again, any time now.”

“And then, you’ll have a new pod,” He grins at you, setting you down on the floor, leaving you in a stunned heap, giving you a grand view of the park from the third floor, and the celebrations he’s planned for the success and manipulation of not one, but two, innocent people as he stares out the window. “And you will belong to me, my pretty little mate.”

“You,” your voice quivers with rage as he turns to look at you, “Will never, be my mate let alone a member of my pod!”

He scowls down at you, before ripping the blazer off you, tearing it into shreds before your eyes, and dragging you before a dirty mirror, gripping your face to force you to look at your reflection. The bleeding on your neck has stopped, though it looks inflamed now, sore and tender. Your ribs are bruised, and beneath the shackle, your neck is darkened. 

Arlong squeezes around your waist, making you cry out in pain, the way your ribs have broken being used against you, “As if anyone else will have you after me.” He tosses you back to the corner, and pulls your pelt up from his bed, holding it tauntingly in the air, before tearing it, just slightly. You scream in pain, fingers digging into your scalp, even after he’s stopped. 

He leaves you with a harsh kiss, nipping your bottom lip with enough force it starts to bleed, sauntering down the stairs, laughing all the while. Your pelt lays lazily across his bed, just out of your reach, and a permanent reminder that you are helpless here. 

All you can do is scream until your voice goes hoarse, slumped against the wall in defeat, shoulders shaking with silent sobs as the sun rises. Mercifully, you pass out from exhaustion or fall asleep, not exactly sure of which.

A fight has started outside, you realize when you hear shouts of rage, and a tremor shakes the building. Arlong had long since left you alone in his room, sitting in the tatters of Sanji’s jacket. As you drag yourself as close to the window as the chains allow, looking down into the courtyard, you watch as Luffy, Usopp, Sanji, and Zoro walk into the courtyard. Luffy is without his signature hat, and while you can’t hear what is being said, you can see how Arlong tenses, and the way his crew is gathered around him, some protective, some cocky. 

You watch as Luffy slams two of his charging opponents' heads together when they try to attack, his crew of fishmen fanning out around him, much too casual for how dangerous the situation is. You try to get closer, but the shackle tugs on your neck, and you can’t help but let out a small groan, wincing at the pain as it pushes against your windpipe. Somehow, Usopp looks up at that exact moment, a look of shock on his face as he does, making eye contact with you, before nudging Sanji, pointing at you through the window, and speaking something to the blond. 

You tug against the shackle again, fighting against it before pulling your fist back and slamming it against the window, winding you as you fight to regain air. The water in the pool outside tremors once again, and you repeat the process, this time, making a tiny crack appear. The iron groans as you pull against the chain, and your lungs beg for you to stop. 

Arlong follows Sanji’s gaze, a low growl in his throat as he realizes what you’re doing. You make eye contact with him, furious, and this time, use both hands to smash against the glass, shattering it, and spilling it over his crew. You let out a hoarse cry, the water from the pool now turning choppy as you howl, frost starting to form in the room around you. You are injured, yes, but you are pissed. The water grows even rougher in the pools, and you slam your hands down on the now-broken windowpane, blood trickling down the wooden exterior as you cut your palms.

Arlong stands from his chair, stomping down on the ground. “You bitch! Stop!” You let out another cry, with your teeth bared at him, distracting Arlong just enough for Luffy to slam his fist into his face, not only breaking you out of your daze but also sending the fishman flying into a wall. This is when the brawl started in earnest, shackle keeping you chained, and your body exhausted from how you had just fought against it. 

The sound of the fights outside fades as you settle down on the floor, panting, even as the building shakes around you, dust falling from the ceiling as something large crashes around outside. The smell of the terrible creature, Momoo, fills your nose, and you’re shocked to hear it wailing in pain, the stench of fear filling your nose. You look at the now open window, seeing the giant cow creature crying, before the front of the room is smashed away, Arlong’s bed thrown against the wall near you. 

And there it is. Laying before you, hanging from the edge of the newly created opening, your pelt. You let out a warble, grabbing it right as it’s about to slip, catching it on a jagged piece of rebar. You let out a cry of pain when the metal tears it slightly, somehow still holding it tightly as you inch forward to get a better grip. Arlong watches from where he is leaning against the wall, furious when he realizes just what you've gotten your hands on.

“Drop it!” He snaps, pushing himself up, and you whip your head to look at him, breath stuttering. He’s never looked quite this furious before, and part of you wants to cower. Wants to drop the pelt and plead with him to spare you, promising that you'll behave. Yet another part roars. Seethes with rage, full of the memories and all the pain he has caused.

So you don’t.

You manage to pull it up without tearing it anymore, and your pod’s scent washes over you as you clutch it to your nose, eyes closed as you inhale. Kelp and seawater greet you, and you can’t help but let out a high, blissful trill as you slip it over your shoulders. You’re aware you must look monstrous to those below you, and your form warps and shifts. The room trembles again, and something heavy falls from the ceiling, right onto the chain, making it snap with a loud clang. More debris falls, and you can hear Arlong’s screams of rage as you take a step forward. The shackle still rests against your neck uncomfortably, even as you slip your pelt over your shoulders, the garment engulfing you as you leap from your spot, body fully changing for the first time in a long time as you dive into the pool, the metal collar sinking to the bottom with a clink.