#yes hes still a freak but also just wants to bring happiness to the world. Like there's layers to tsumugi aoba like an onion and thats what | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dexteri0us · 4 months ago

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now i’m breathin' like i’m runnin' 'cause you're taking me there; don’t you know you spin me out of control?

pairing: dexter morgan x f!reader

warnings: reader is a freak, mentions of corpses, smut - dom!dexter (but he's soft<3), sir kink, oral (f and m receiving), some slapping, some pussy slapping, bondage, knife play, brush play, wartenberg wheel (all sterilized of course).

summary: you, being an annoying girlfriend, and dexter, being an incredible boyfriend. (be careful though, he might as well just off you one day if you keep asking for it).

w/c: around 7,280

a/n: no pun intended. if i forgot any warnings, let me know, my brain is kinda fried

Dexter hadn’t exactly told you that he was a killer. A murderer, a criminal, or whatever label fit his particular shade of darkness. But he also never denied it when your insinuations crept too close to the truth. He knew that you knew, and that was enough for you. Knowing that he was okay with that was enough for you. Well, until recently.

He’d given you a blurry picture of what he did to his victims. Not because he offered it, but you had a knack for prodding, especially when you sensed he was buttered up just enough. You knew a crime scene or a sample of blood brought a smile to his face, but you didn’t exactly have that kind of power to bring those things to him. You found your own ways to make Dexter smile. Leaving a post-it note on his coffee machine that read “Kill the day”. Buying him a new shirt for work or a romantic dinner. Making him a playlist for his late-night boat rides. Or you’d plan a quiet night with nature docs to stimulate his intellect.

And if you were feeling bold, you’d cook. Well, try to cook. Homemade pizza was your speciality. Your best and only. Dexter never complained, though, always giving you a small, approving nod as he chewed slowly.

Still, he didn’t give you the exact answers either. He might roll his eyes, sigh heavily, or offer a cryptic one-word response, but you could always tell when you’d hit the nail on the head.

“Do you have a special place where you do it? Like a basement or something?”

Roll of his eyes. No.

“Do you ever regret it? Like, afterward?”

No.

“Do you stalk them?”

Side eye. Yes.

“Do you talk to them first? Like, try to scare them or mess with their heads:”

...Yes?

You played this game as if it was the most normal thing in the world, without batting an eye. It was fun for you until you headed in an unpleasant direction of the questions.

“Does it get messy? What do you use to clean up? What about their clothes? Do you get them naked before getting rid of the body?”

Yes.

Oh. “…Before killing them?”

Yes.

The wheels in your head began to turn, your thoughts spiraling into uncharted territory. “Even the women?”

Yes.

Huh. Suddenly, the game wasn’t so fun anymore. You didn’t know how you felt about that. You pictured the men and women you didn’t know, beautiful, vulnerable, dead. It was stupid to feel jealous of corpses, but you couldn’t help it. It clawed at you.

For a while, you stopped asking questions. Not because you didn’t want to know, but because you were too distracted by the answers you’d already gotten. And maybe you were afraid of what else you’d uncover.

If you were jealous of them before, now that jealousy skyrocketed into different dimensions.

You were in the middle of baking banana bread, working the batter longer than necessary. It was your fourth loaf this week, and you’d already had to give a few away to Deb and Joey, because you weren’t capable of eating all of it.

You were happy that Deb and Joey appreciated it because Dexter didn’t even like banana bread that much. He ate it because you made it. Which was sweet. But still, he seemed to enjoy talking to naked strangers more than eating your baked goods.

What the fuck is his problem?

“Another banana bread?” Dexter’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. “You know, it’s gonna lose its sweetness if you keep mixing all the frustration into it.”

Normally, you’d snort at the deadpan delivery of his stupid joke, but now was really not the time to remind you of the mood you were trying to suppress.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked is all seriousness now, coming over to you and leaning one hip against the counter. You didn’t look at him, keeping your focus on the batter. “Okay, you’re not. What can I do?” he asked, waiting patiently for you to open up.

“Nothing.”

He stood there and you felt his eyes on you, probably trying to read you. You still didn’t acknowledge him, but his presence pressed against you and it was starting to make you uncomfortable. He knew better than to push; it would only make you more frustrated, but he wasn’t one to just walk away either. Besides, he knew you’d crack eventually. And you did, dropping the spatula into the bowl and turning to face him.

“Why don’t you like my banana bread?”

He squinted his eyes, trying to decide if you were joking or not.

“I like your banana bread. Just… an appropriate amount. Not five loaves in a week.”

“Four,” you corrected.

“Five,” he countered, not missing a beat. “You made two yesterday, one on Monday and one on Wednesday.”

Shit, he was right. But could he blame you? He was driving you nuts. Well, you were driving yourself nuts, but it was because of him!

“Hey, I know my brain is limited, but is that really what’s bothering you? Will you help me out, or should I try to piece it together on my own?” he said softly.

He always did that, giving you space but never giving up on saving you from the sea of worrisome thoughts, never ignoring your closed off behavior. He’d always told you that you were like a puzzle to him. And he claimed he liked puzzles.

But you didn’t want to be a puzzle this time. You knew keeping him guessing wouldn't be healthy, so you spilled it out. You told him about your stupid insecurity and the stupid jealousy, the anger and frustration that boiled over when he told you about how he stripped his victims naked. And he couldn’t have had a more baffled expression on his face

For the first time, he told you a little bit about his hobby without you having to pull it from him. He reassured you that there was no sexual motivation behind it whatsoever. None. That the people he killed were disgusting and vile human beings who didn’t deserve even the faintest semblance of intimacy. Well, not that kind of intimacy. They deserved nothing but to die.

“I promise,” he said as he brushed his thumb over your cheek, “the only body I admire is yours. It’s an unhealthy obsession, really. Unhealthier than the other one.”

And with that, he finally made you laugh and roll your eyes at him. You gave him a playful shove, making him smile as you turned back to your batter. He moved closer one more time, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple, then your cheek. As he stepped back, he gave your triceps a playful pinch, leaving you to your baking.

You didn’t have a reason not to trust him. Even though he held onto a big secret, he never outright lied. He just never told you the whole truth, and you respected that. He’d told you it was better this way, something about plausible deniability. And yes, you made it a little hard for him, but what can you say, you were nosy.

Later that night, he went out of his way to worship your body, to prove that you were truly his number one obsession. He looked you in the eye as he fucked you, making you see how you made him feel and showing you every ounce of devotion he had for you. When he put his tongue on you, he didn’t stop eating your pussy until you had to push him away.

Afterward, you lay on your stomach while Dexter rested beside you, propped on one elbow, his other hand tracing invisible shapes on your back.

He let you guess what he drew or wrote with his fingers, and you both giggled when you guessed something ridiculous when he drew something completely simple. It was your favorite kind of peace, lying in his arms, your warm skin against his. You almost couldn’t believe that these same arms were capable of something else.

It wouldn’t be you if you weren’t greedy, though. And sometimes, when your mood was just right, that greed turned you into a bit of a brat.

You were on your way from the farmer’s market, the basket of fresh carrots and strawberries balanced on your lap as Dexter focused on the road, one hand casually resting on the wheel.

You were just telling him how you wanted to have a garden of your own one day, grow your own fruits and veggies, maybe even have a little flock of chickens.

“Can you imagine? You’d have fresh eggs for breakfast every morning, and I could make you a fruit salad to take to work.”

He glanced over, just briefly, before fixing his eyes back on the road. “You’d want me to share that with you?”

You felt a small tug of your heart. It made you reach out to gently tug the short hair behind his ear. He liked that. He’d said it was soothing when you played with his hair, especially around the ears, and you made a mental note to do more of it later tonight.

“Dex, you’re stuck with me. You’ll need to kill me to get rid of me,” you joked and he shot you a look, but you giggled at your own quip.

Truthfully, it broke your heart sometimes, the way he thought so little of himself. Sure, he was confident, sometimes even a little too sure of his skills, and it could momentarily turn him into a smug asshole. But you worried that he’d never feel how loved he actually was. How many people cared about him.

Before you could spiral too far into those thoughts, his phone buzzed. He was being called to a scene, and he initially wanted to drop you off at home, but you convinced him there was no point. It was literally on the way, and you could just wait in the car.

“Alright,” he said as he gathered his things, “half an hour, tops.” You nodded and he stepped out of the car.

You watched him work from the car, though you could barely make him out through the crowd of people that gathered at the scene. Still, you admired how focused and precise he was, the way he was handling the camera and the lifeless body.

It was impossible not to think about how those same hands had touched you, traced every curve and dip of your skin. Fuck, you were sick. He was professionally documenting death for Christ's sake.

Still, your mind couldn’t help but wander elsewhere, wondering if he handled them with the same care. So, once you were back on the road, you couldn’t help yourself.

“You know, I thought of a way you could prove your ‘obsession’ with my body.”

He paused, glancing at you with furrowed brow, confused. “I thought we were past that.”

“Well, you know, it does something to a girl, knowing her boyfriend’s hobby involves working with naked bodies.”

“I can’t believe that that’s what bothers you about this whole situation.”

You shrugged, letting the silence hang for a moment.

“Alright, I’ll bite. What’d you have in mind?”

“I want to experience it.”

“'It'. Try to be a little more specific.”

“You know… the setup. Like, a roleplay kinda thing. You’ll be you, and I’ll be your victim. Or like a 'draw me like one of your french girls' kinda situation."

You honestly thought that it was a good idea, but you just proved to him how much little you understood about the whole serial killer thing, which he let you know quite candidly.

Don’t get me wrong, he adored you, but he didn’t have a problem with calling you out on your stupidity and reminding you how close you sometimes got to crossing lines you didn’t fully understand. That’s what made your relationship great.

“First of all, why would you think they are French?" he asked, confused by the movie reference, but you jusrt rolled your eyes. "And second of all, I actually wonder whether it’s you or me who’s sick in the head here,” he scoffed, shaking his head as he went on to tell you that it wasn't a fucking game that you played. He is a serial killer. “I actually like your body intact.”

“But you wouldn’t actually –”

“No.”

“Come on, wouldn’t you like to see me all tied up, immobilized, completely at your mercy?”

His jaw tightened just slightly before he answered. Oh?

“No. End of discussion.”

“Fine,” you groaned with a sigh, sinking back into your seat like a scolded child, your fingers idly tracing the ridges of the basket in your lap.

You wanted to be petty about it but instead, you decided to be on your best behavior. The reason? You’d definitely gotten into his head. You didn’t know if he’d started fantasizing about you like that, or if he was coming to the realization that you might actually need a psychiatric evaluation. You hoped it was the former, so when you caught him lost in thought, his gaze lingering on you as if he were in a trance, you resisted the urge to poke the bear, only sending a sweet smile his way.

The sex had gotten more… intense. Also more frequent, and you had a theory that it correlated with his early returns from his hunts. He never seemed to be satisfied, always came home frustrated with himself and he took it out on you. He’d take you against the nearest surface he could find; the couch, the kitchen counter, even the floor. You thought there wasn’t a single surface in his apartment that wasn’t defiled.

Once, when he’d gotten home before you, he threatened to take you outside in the external corridor where his neighbors could see and hear everything. Well, you wouldn’t mind, but he was a flying-under-the-radar kind of guy.

Either way, you’d struck a chord. And while you still hadn’t gotten exactly what you wanted, you couldn’t deny you enjoyed the way he’d been lately.

You just got out of shower, slipped into your pajamas and plopped onto the couch, turning on some white noise on your phone as you pulled out some notes for your upcoming exam. No, you weren’t capable of studying after you changed into your sleeping attire, but it was better than doing nothing.

Your eyes skimmed mindlessly across the words when you heard the door unlock, revealing Dexter in his khaki henley and cargos. You greeted him with a smile, sending him into kitchen where his take-out was, before turning your head back to your notes.

You didn’t register him moving closer to you, until you felt the nylon of a cuff around your wrist.

“What the fuck?” you murmured and looked at your wrist. It wasn’t your first time he used bondage on you, of course, but this was weird. You tugged instinctively at the chain, but his firm grip on the other buckle didn’t allow you much movement. “Dex, I don’t have time for this now.”

“My victims don’t really get to pick when their time is up.”

You looked at him, the confusion apparent on your face, but then when you locked eyes with him, it started to gradually dawn on you. Your eyes flicked from his face, to his clothes, to the chain around your wrist.

Was this what you thought it was? You didn’t want to celebrate too early.

And just like that, Dexter gave a sharp tug on the chain, pulling you to your feet.

“The first thing that usually happens,” he began, leading you to the bedroom, “is the weight of their tranquilized bodies pulls them to the ground.”

Before you could react, he slammed the door shut behind you and in one swift motion, your back hit the hard wood. Your other wrist was caught and cuffed too, the chain between them yanked taut as he raised your arms above your head, hooking the chain on the hook mounted on the door, leaving you stertched out.

It was too high and the position forced you onto your tiptoes, your whole body arching and making your ass press firmly against the door.

Dexter grabbed your jaw and kissed you aggressively, your teeth clanking against each other and your tongues tangling together, making your mixed saliva drip down your chin.

He looked at you with that signature intensity, eyes hooded and plush lips parted slightly. His hot breath fanned across your chin as he spread the spit over your cheek and jawline, massaging it into your skin.

You admired the way his hair curled at his forehead and around his ears, it gave him this innocent vibe that put him into contrast with those strong features of his face.

Then he kissed you again, this time more softly, snaking his arm into the space between the door and your arched back, pressing himself against you and making you feel the hardness in his cargo pants. His hand slid lower, over the curve of your lower back, slipping beneath your shirt to cup your ass firmly. His fingers kneaded your flesh before grasping the hem of your panties and tugging up, the fabric pressing tightly against your pussy.

The pressure sent a jolt of pleasure straight through you, the cloth stimulating your clit as he gave it individual tugs. You whimpered into his mouth, your body writhing against him even though it was almost physically impossible. To amplify the pleasure, Dexter's thigh slid between your legs, the textured fabric of his cargos creating a delicious sensation.

When he was satisfied with the wet spot you created on his pants, he dropped to his knees. He teased you some more, licking along the hem of your panties, placing wet kisses on your thighs and burying his nose against your heat, telling you how good you smell.

“Dex,” you whined. Your cunt screamed for release as well as your strained arms. You wanted nothing more than to tangle your fingers in his hair and grind yourself against his mouth until the dam broke.

He had told you before that his face was made for you to sit on. Once, Deb had jokingly called him a chair, which turned out to be a thought her therapist had passed on to her. Your mind couldn’t help but wander to the nights when he made you sit on his cock as he went over his subjects. He blindfolded you each time, naturally.

And from the look on your face, Deb knew instantly where your thoughts had gone, and said that she didn’t need that mental image in her head. You both laughed about it later. Honestly, you two loved sharing your sexcapades with each other.

Dexter found out through Quinn, because of course Deb would share, especially if you gave her inspiration. And he couldn't resist taking a jab at Dexter.

“I didn’t know you were such an animal, Dex,” Joey had told him with that smug grin of his.

Dex had given you an earful about how you had kind of compromised his privacy. It was only a matter of time until Masuka learned about this, and he was already exasperating. Dexter was afraid Masuka would take it as a shared hobby, something they could finally, really talk about with passion, like two guys. Ugh, the thought alone made him uncomfortable already.

But you'd told him that Deb was your best friend, and that girlfriends just had to talk about this stuff.

“It’s like therapy.”

“Don’t you say that about sex too?”

“Depends on the circumstances. Besides, it’s good for tips. You should thank her. If you thought making me squirt was all your talent, think again.”

After that, you made a deal not to bring up your sex club discussions in front of Dexter, and Deb made Quinn promise he wouldn’t say a word in front of Vince.

However, you did joke about the chair thing often, because he did provide the best seat in the house, whether it was his lap or his face.

But this time, he wasn't giving it up so easily. He wanted to make you earn it, but you couldn’t do anything except to wait.

When he finally did put his tongue on you, he didn’t take your panties off. He made you cum with them on, licking your clit over your panties, sometimes brushing his thumb over the sensitive bundle of nerves before sliding to your hole and pushing against the cloth, to the point your underwear became uncomfortable from how soaked it was with your cum.

Then he finally pushed your panties aside, the wet material sticking to your skin. He shuffled closer, his forehead grazing your stomach and his hair tickling your skin as he looked down at you, sliding his fingers through your folds and over your sensitive clit. you begged him to make you cum again, thinking he’d finally eat you out properly, but he just used his fingers.

He stayed on his knees for a while, admiring your shiny pussy and grazing his fingernails over your clit, teasing you, before standing up to his full height and properly fucking you hard with his fingers.

He wrapped his arm around you once again, bracing himself to your side as he started snapping his palm against your clit, two of his fingers sliding in and out of you and filling the room with wet sounds.

When you started cumming again, his other hand, that was resting on your hip reached down and tugged on your panties again, positioning the crotch back between your pussy lips and pulling, wiggling it to create stimulation against your clit.

“That’s it,” he growled, his lower jaw dropping down as he admired your squirming body.

You cried out from the sensation, your head banging against the door and one of your legs bending in the knee as you pressed your thighs together, trying to escape from the overstimulation.

You were so consumed by coming down from your high that you didn’t expect Dexter to unhitch the chain from the hook on the door, making you lose your balance. You would have surely fallen to the ground if Dexter hadn’t been there, but he was ready to catch you.

He shifted your body, picking you up bridal style. You thought that he’d lay you down onto the bed and fuck you there, but instead, he opened the door and headed out of the room. And as you rested in the comfort of his strong arms, your head against his shoulder, you noticed that his shirt smelt differently. It wasn’t the usual sweat and blood, or different human remains. It was a laundry detergent, meaning he truly did this just for you. It was your night.

He carried you through the living room, making his way toward his desk where he sat you down.

Unlike every other day, the computer was gone, as well as the photo of him and Deb. In fact, it was completely cleared out.

How have you not noticed that?

He stood between your thighs, working the cuffs to separate them from each other before pulling your sleep shirt over your head, leaving you exposed to him. His hand reached out, pinching your nipple as he kissed you, sharing the taste of your pussy with you. He pressed himself against you, the button of his cargos grazing your clit and making you moan. You were still sensitive, but you loved every second of it.

He leaned into you, forcing you to lie down, the coldness of the desk hitting your back and spreading goosebumps over your skin. He positioned you to his liking, moving you up so your feet rested on the top of the desk.

“I make sure they can’t escape,” he continued his description of the way he’d done things, pulling out another set of cuffs from the desk drawer and clasping each around your ankles before cuffing them to your wrist cuffs. You weren’t unfamiliar with any of this, but then he pulled out two other clasps and attached the ankle cuffs to the D-rings built in the desk.

Were those always there?

Now, you were all spread out for him, your nipples stiff for him to feed on, your legs bent in the knees and putting the outline of your cunt under your ruined panties on full display. You were capable of minimal movement with your ankles attached to the desk and your hands dependent on the movement of your legs. You weren’t going anywhere. Not that you wanted to.

“Are you good?” he asked, making sure he wasn’t doing anything you weren’t up to.

“Yes.”

“What’s your safe word?”

“Magazine.”

You watched as Dexter moved around the apartment, disappearing from your sight to retrieve a black, flat bag. When he returned to the kitchen counter, he seemed to unroll the bag, his back to you. You had to crane your neck to see, the vertebrae in your neck squishing together as you tried to get a glimpse of what lay inside. Something steely caught the light as he pulled it out. Then Dexter turned around, a pointed tool spinning under the force of his index finger. A Wartenberg wheel.

Your throat tightened, chills coursing down your spine as your body shifted in anticipation. Nothing could have prepared you for the next set of events. You were sure the next time you and Deb swapped stories, she would be the one taking notes.

Dexter tortured the fuck out of you.

He started with the pinwheel, rolling it all over your body. The pins were sharp enough to prickle your skin as they trailed along your arms, but it didn’t hurt. At first, it was even nice, relaxing almost. Then he moved to your chest, the wheel gliding from the hollow of your neck, down between your breasts and over you stomach.

As it neared the waistband of your soaked panties, you thought he’d continue further down and toward your aching pussy. But just as it reached below your navel, the wheel disappeared, making you huff.

That was your mistake. You’d worked yourself up by stupidly thinking that he’d go there right away. Foolish.

“I cut them up.”

You flinched at the sudden sound, startled, but he didn’t comment. The pinwheel resumed its path, drawing invisible lines across your wrists, elbows, shoulders, mimicking incisions. You closed your eyes, letting your imagination take over.

“Into evenly cut pieces,” he added.

Now the tool traveled lower, grazing your legs, running from your ankle to your bent knee, then up the sensitive skin of inner thigh. You trembled under his touch, your breath catching in your throat.

You reveled in the thought of this man, this predator, choosing to worship you instead of discarding you. Who knows, maybe one day, he would snap. But the possibility only made your body quake more.

He noticed, stopping the wheel just where your thigh met your hip. “Are you scared?”

“No.” you said, though your voice betrayed you, shaking on the single syllable.

But you really weren’t. If you were truly scared, you wouldn’t have misbehaved just now.

Before you could think about what would happen next, his hand struck, his palm landing sharply against your clothed pussy, and it was just then that you noticed he had put on his gloves, the leather making the sting more searing. You gasped, your hips jerking from the impact.

“If you thought you’d get a free pass, you were sorely mistaken.” He leaned over you, his hand sliding from your core to your thigh, squeezing the flesh. “Let’s try again. Are you scared?”

“No, sir.”

Other times, if you failed to call him sir right away, you’d get a warning. Maybe a slap to your thigh, or a firm squeeze of your neck. Never your pussy. Not at first.

“Such a brave girl.” This time, he ran the pinwheel slowly from your waist toward your chest. He altered its course, pressing it against your breast, applying more pressure as he reached your nipple, the sharp points dragging over it. “See? They could never measure up to you.”

Dexter turned the wheel again, guiding it slowly down your heaving stomach. You swore one of the metallic points grazed the bow on your panties, but he halted the motion, the wheel twisting 90 degrees to trace the hem of your underwear instead. Your hips tilted upwards instinctively, a desperate attempt to bring your pussy closer to his hand, but it was useless.

He continued to tease you, switching from one thigh to another, running it so close to your center, but never quite touching it. You kept waiting for that moment, but it never came.

“This is getting boring. I’ll go get something else,” he said nonchalantly, making his way toward the counter. Fucker.

“Wait,” you blurted without thinking. “I mean, please, sir…”

His footsteps paused, then drew closer again, stopping beside your head and smiling down at you.

“Did you want something?”

“Can you please touch my pussy?”

“Of course,” he said, a mocking lilt in his voice. “I just have to make my hands free,” he replied, taking a step toward the counter again, but you were quick to react.

“No!” You immediately regretted your words as he returned to the same spot. Dexter’s hand tilted your head, his gloved fingers squeezing your cheeks. The leather was firm and hot against your face. “I’m sorry, sir,” you added quickly, your voice muffled under his grip.

He leaned in closer. “You’d better realize your place, sweetheart. Or I’ll make sure this won’t be a fun experience.”

You apologized again, not forgetting the title, and he released your face, giving you a nod.

“Can you please touch my pussy with… that?”

Fuck your pride, right?

He raised his hand in front of his face, inspecting the pinwheel as though it had just appeared in his hand.

“Oh, this?” he said, feigning ignorance, clearly mocking you. “You want me to–” He moved the tool lazily through the air above your body, stopping just over your lower half “Touch you here?”

With a swift motion, the wheel skimmed between your legs, the pins grazing your panties. You didn’t even have the time to register it before he removed it again, but the electrifying sensation that came and went made you moan as your clit pulsed with excitement.

“Yes, please.”

His nose brushed against yours as he leaned over again, and you thought he was going to kiss you. Instead, he mocked you again, his voice dripping with condescension as he cupped your chin. “Aw, you’re such a dirty girl, huh?”

His head dropped, his hair tickling your cheek as he glanced downward, watching his hand between your thighs. He made another contact with your pussy, slowly this time, focused. A mix of relief and hunger flooded you as he ran it up and down your wet underwear, the prickling sensation shooting through your nerves. “You want me to fuck you with it too? Are you that sick, hm?”

When you didn’t respond, he stopped and his head snapped towards you. His gloved hand left your face, only to land a slap across your cheek. The sting spread across your face, your skin burning under the impact.

“I didn’t fucking hear you.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

What can you say? Slapping didn’t really work on you. He knew that, it’s the reason he did it. So he could do it again.

The corner of his mouth twitched. He slapped you again, this time harder, the leather stinging even more than his bare hand.

“If that’s what you wanted, sir, I’d take it.” You managed to keep your voice steady despite the heat in your cheek.

His lips curved into a smile. He stood up, walking towards the counter. “Jesus Christ,” he said with a shake of his head. “You’re lucky you found me. Anyone else would’ve committed your ass to a psychiatric hospital.”

“Fate,” you commented, but he didn’t say anything, didn’t punish you. Meaning you made him smile.

Dexter returned with a knife, and he dragged it across the chains, the clinking sound of metal scraping against metal echoing in the room.

He focused on your pussy now, rubbing the flat side of the knife against your clit, occasionally tapping it against you, and you half-expected he might nick the skin of your thighs if he wasn’t careful.

Then, Dexter flipped the knife again, teasing you with its blunt edge before bringing it to your breasts. He drew circles around your nipples with the tip of the knife, sharper than the pinwheel.

His body moved again, positioning himself behind you. His face, upside down, loomed above, gently cupping the underside of your chin, tilting your head back. The leather of his gloves gave you an unnerving sensation as his fingers held you in place. You felt the cold steel of the knife at your throat, running from one carotid to the other.

“Sometimes I cut their throats. But it’s not really my favorite style,” he said, the blade left your neck, drifting downward until it hovered over your left breast, settling directly above your wildly beating heart. He pressed the tip of the knife just enough for your skin to dip under its force. He could do anything to you. He could kill you right then and there.

“I love you,” you confessed for what felt like umpteenth time.

Dexter smiled, leaning down and placing a tender kiss on your forehead, all while controlling the force he still had on the knife.

He straightened, moving to your side again. His gloved fingers trailed over your stomach as he slid the knife under the hem of your underwear. The sharp edge pressed upwards, and you felt the fabric give way with a faint snick as the first small tear formed.

He moved the blade lower, repeating the motion. Each cut widened the tear, revealing the top of your clit. He shredded the panties until they were completely off, leaving you slickness glistening in the dim light and dripping onto the table beneath you.

Dexter removed his gloves and slid his fingers between your pussy lips, coating them in your wetness, before he brought them to his mouth. He just made you cum with his mouth, surely he wouldn’t–

But before you could finish your thought, he bent down over your torso and in a millisecond, his head was between your thighs. Mouth wide open, his tongue resting on his chin as he pressed it flat against your clit, and his upper lip collecting your juices straight from the source.

It was a single, devastating taste, but it was enough to make your legs tremble, the chains stopping you from closing them.

“Shit, I might as well eat you out again.”

Yeah, he might. Without anything in the way this time.

It was just stroking your ego. It really made you proud, how his tongue was addicted to your pussy.

He brought the final tool of the night – a small brush that looked like it belonged in a makeup kit. It also looked like the softest instrumentof the night, but turned out to be the most torturing one.

The bristles touched your clit with featherlight strokes, maddeningly soft. The individual bristles tickled and stimulated every single nerve ending, sending vibrations through your entire body.

You gasped, your hips jerking involuntarily. Dexter worked the brush in slow, torturous circles, teasing your clit to the brink. Just as you thought you couldn’t take any more, he stuffed two fingers inside your hole, wiggling them inside to massage the spot that made your eyes roll back in your head.

The synergy was overwhelming. Your body writhed against the chains, chasing the orgasm building rapidly within you. But just as the climax was about to crash over you, he stopped. His fingers withdrew and the brush disappeared, your back arching in desperation as you felt the pleasure simmer out, leaving your abdomen hollow and aching from the loss.

“Please, sir, can I come?”

“Of course you can,” he said in a soft voice.

But he didn’t let you. He edged you again and again, pushing you to the brink, only to yank you back. He was playing with you, letting you know that your body wasn’t yours tonight. It was under his control. You were his.

The brush was drenched in your juices at this point, ruined just like your panties and your throbbing cunt. A few tears slipped from your eyes, mixing with the sweat slicking your skin. So you begged, desperate for the release. You begged until he finally finger-fucked, plunging his fingers into you and pumping them relentlessly. His thumb rubbed your puffy clit, sending you spiraling into an earth-shattering orgasm.

You came hard, your juices spilling over his hand and splattering onto his watch. He only pulled his fingers out to spank your clit, amplifying the intensity of your orgasm. At one point, he reached for the discarded glove, fisting it and placing harsh smacks against your sore pussy. You screamed, and after he landed his last smack, feeling you were nearing another orgasm, he switched the rough sensation of the leather for the softness of his tongue, firmly pressing against you and shaking his head from side to side, letting you cum into you his mouth.

You could barely take it and you were scared he might pull out a vibrator, because he liked to do that when you came twice in the span of two minutes. But he didn’t, removing his glistening face from your center and standing up. You just laid there, your body a racing circuit for the endorphins and oxytocin at this point.

Dexter gave you only a few second before he undid the chains, the clinking of metal barely audible over the pounding in your ears. He didn’t let you move, though, keeping you sprawled on table as he shifted your body higher until your head hung off the edge.

He stood in front of your face, and you knew what he wanted. You reached for the button of his cargo pants, undoing them and pulling them down along with his underwear. His cock sprang free, thick and heavy. Gorgeous. You didn’t waste a moment, leaning forward, licking the bead of precum from his tip before taking him into your mouth.

Dexter groaned, the sound vibrating through you. Soon, he took over, thrusting into your throat as he held you down. One hand pressed against your neck, feeling the way you swallowed his cock, while the other pinched and tugged at your nipples.

You gagged around him, bubbles forming in the corners of your mouth as you struggled to keep up. This time, your eyes outright stung from the tears that were forcing their way out, but you didn’t stop. It wasn’t until you coughed, your throat tightening involuntarily and squeezing around him, that he pulled out with a groan.

You gasped for air, your chest heaving, but he didn’t give you long to recover. His hand gripped your neck and yanked you up, forcing you into a kneeling position on the table. You just sat there, dazed, your hands resting in your lap like the picture of innocence. Messy hair, glassy eyes, and swollen lips.

Dexter kissed them, shoving his tongue into your mouth, tasting himself and making you taste yourself again. His beard scratched against your sensitive skin, adding to the long list of stimuli.

You dared to sneak your hand away from your lap, circling your fingers around his cock and stroking him slowly. Your thumb swiped over the sensitive head and he moaned into your mouth before his head fell back. You leaned forward, your lips brushing against Dexter’s neck, sucking on his pulse point and grazing it with your teeth.

You moved your hand up and down, and Dexter’s moans and gasps grew louder and more frantic. You quickened your pace, his hips jerking into your hand as he chased his own orgasm. You twisted your hand, and he came with a guttural groan. His cum spilled onto your stomach, warm and sticky, and his hand shot out to grip the hair at the back of your neck, yanking you into another kiss as he came down from his high.

When his breathing slowed, you awkwardly shifted your legs over the edge of the table, letting them dangle as you wrapped your arms around his waist. You pulled him close, burying your face in his chest, a content sigh escaping you as you enjoyed the warmth, the softness of his body.

He cupped your head, his thumb brushing small crescents against your scalp with returned tenderness as he let out a soft sigh of his own, his chest rising and falling against you.

“Are you okay?”

You didn’t pull away to look at him, your body too spent to do much more than to snuggle deeper into his chest and squeeze his torso.

“Better than,” you mumbled.

“I know this wasn’t what you wanted,” he said.

That made you lift your head. You looked at him, your brows drawing together in confusion.

“But this,” he gestured to the table, his brow raising, “is the only table I want to see you on. The only restraints I ever want to see on you. And I need you to get it through that thick skull of yours that there’s nothing sexy about what I do.”

“In my dreams there is,” you said, your lips curving into a teasing smile.

“YN,” he warned.

“I know,” you relented with a roll of your eyes, his brows raising, daring you to be a brat in this moment. “For the record, it was better than what I wanted.”

You smiled and he kissed you again, silencing any further rebellion. When you shivered against him, he pulled back and cleaned you up before ordering you to throw on a shirt.

“Yes, sir,” you replied cheekily, adding a playful salute for good measure.

“I will spank your ass if you don’t get it in the shower in ten seconds,” he said, pulling his own pants up. Would that be so bad? You bit your lip to keep from grinning and headed into the bathroom, while he cleaned the table.

By the time you switched places, you felt refreshed, fucked out just right as every muscle in your body ached with a sweet kind of soreness. You heated up his dinner while making yourself a quick sandwich. Just as you set his plate down, he walked out of the bathroom. You grabbed your sandwich and set down, with Dexter soon joining you.

When you finished your meals, the two of you migrated to the couch. He rested his head on your stomach, while you draped your legs over his shoulders.

Your fingers played with the freshly washed hair, soft and silky from the shampoo. You twirled the strands around your fingers lazily, and his quiet purrs filled the room as you trailed your fingertips along the curve of his ears, scraping gently at the sensitive spots behind them. That sound, half sigh, half growl, might’ve been your favorite thing in the world.

You bent down, the movement uncomfortable and your muscles protesting as you pressed a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. But the way it scrunched affectionately under your touch made the discomfort worth it.

#dexter morgan x reader #dexter morgan smut #dexter #dexter fandom #dexter fanfiction #dexter morgan #dexter morgan fanfiction #dexter morgan fluff #dexter morgan oneshot #dexter morgan x f!reader #dexter x reader #dexter morgan imagine #dexter smut #dexter morgan x female reader #dexter morgan x female!reader #dexter morgan x you

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mixingandmelting · 6 months ago

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Bojack Horseman/ “Maybe cause you’re pretty” Meme

Summary: When you go off after he irritates you only for him to catch you say “maybe cause you’re pretty”

Dick:

“Maybe pretty?”

He very much knows he’s pretty. And not just randomly pretty. He’s YOUR pretty whether you were aware or not when you made him yours

Amused but also not where he’s wanting to know what exactly made you think he’s a “maybe”. Like on what basis, standards. Just who exactly is he competing against?

He does make a side note how adorable you look when you huff though it’s most definitely not the time to mention that or bring it up

If you manage to sass him before he gets a word out along the lines of “in what world makes you think you’re pretty when being irritating?” or “you think i’m going to think you’re pretty when i’m this annoyed”, he won’t say anything and listen. If you don’t, he’ll change the argument and make it over the “maybe pretty”

Either way, it’s going to bother him for the rest of the week as he continuously thinks about it during a mission, spam every group chat he’s in asking if they think he’s pretty

Gone as low as asking Haley if she thought he was pretty. He didn’t appreciate the way she tilted her head in confusion

It’s when you tell him that despite what you said, he’s your one and only pretty both inside and out after receiving a text from everyone to do something about him and his mood, that he stops and goes back to normal

Pulls you into a bear hug, nuzzling his cheek into your hair to then proceed to place kisses all over your neck and face with content that’s he’s the only pretty one for you

Jason

“Oh? So you think I’m pretty?”

He’s insufferable and smug, quickly catching to what you just said

A big ol` smirk on his face, eyes sparkling in amusement when you pause and start getting flustered

Sure, you didn’t mean to say that. Yup, of course, he totally understands. After all, he’s pretty to you isn’t he?

Doesn’t let you take what you said back, it makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside knowing that you found him pretty

Especially considering all the scars he has and the things he went through, most would not use the word pretty for him.

He’s an extremely self conscious person who doesn’t often get compliments. Even if he does, it’s for his work as an outlaw rather than his own person. So don’t fault him too much for him teasing you, he’s simply really happy

He does stop teasing you and take you seriously when you snap at him, asking if he was paying attention to what you said. Despite half his mind being on cloud nine, the other half has been paying attention so he is aware what you’ve been telling him

Gives an apology, half heartedly but still an apology, agreeing to whatever conditions you propose. Has to hold back from laughing from the way you look annoyed without realizing how instead of looking agitated, you looked like you were pouting - and that’s freaking cute.

Purposely gets you to topple over the edge of the sofa for an impromptu snuggle session where he rests his head on your chest and enjoy the hand that plays with his hair from giving up in ranting at him

Tim

“I’m pretty?”

Poor boy is completely flustered. A blubbering, hot mess that doesn’t help you to calm down when you realize what you said

He’s going through a crisis in his head, brain going “oh my god they think i'm pretty” to “holy crap, they think i’m pretty”

No, he is not paying attention to what you try saying as an excuse to cover up that you thought he was pretty. Or anything after that.

Help, he can’t even look at you in the eyes, your words echoing in his ears to point it got him to turn red from the tip of ears down to the base of his neck

Smart? Yes. Fun to hang out with? Yes. Pretty? Pretty???

When you yell out his full name, he finally snaps his attention back to you, fumbling over his words to make it seem as though he was listening the whole time

He’s hyper aware and extremely conscious to the point when you go “you okay?” with a look of concern and try touching him, he jumps

When he tells you the reason for him to be jumpy after you ask what has gotten into him all of a sudden, both of you were matching, blushing as red as his Red Robin suit

The conversation ends with choppy sentences including you intention to lecture his ears out going out the window as he holds your hand and leans his head over yours with a silly, derpy grin as it settles in that you thought he was pretty

Duke

“You think I’m pretty?”

His brain short circuits, all sass dies inside him

No thoughts, just you calling him pretty, repeating his head like a broken record. Actually can be considered brain dead since that’s how he feels

Snapping your fingers, shaking him by the shoulder, calling his name a million times won’t work. He’s not responding not because he doesn’t want to, rather he can’t. Literally, he can’t formulate a response

Is this how stans feel when their favorite celebrities compliments them? `Cause he’s ascending into heaven right now over how the person he is loyal and devoted completely to called him pretty

He doesn’t realize how long it takes you to get him to snap back to reality though it seems like it was a while when he comes back to the living you were look more concerned rather than irritated

Side note, he doesn’t really know how you were able to get him back though he might have an idea from how his head, slightly, stings a bit

Not like that’ll even matter when his voice isn’t his usual confident and sarcastic voice but has a slight stutter, quieter, and polite

He’s also jumpy, cheeks and ears burning when you voice out your concern only to end up asking if you really think he’s pretty as a reply

He manages to pass out while standing, blissful yet happiest smile on his face when you give up trying to give him a piece of your mind and give him a bear hug, telling him he’s more than pretty

Damian Wayne

“Obviously I’m pretty?”

Raises an unamused eyebrow at you, unsure why you’re stating the obvious. Have you met his parents? Of course he’s going to be pretty. Or that’s how he acts on the outside at least

Inside he’s absolutely flattered and filled with joy, his mind recognizing how you thought he was pretty/he is pretty to you

Definitely is getting a kick of you being flustered on top of being irritated especially seeing how you’re blushing from belatedly realization what exactly you just said to him

It’s to the point that when you try to go back to what you were saying, it goes in one ear and out the other as he counters with “but you think i’m pretty.”, “didn’t you say i was pretty?”, or “why can’t you answer my question: am i pretty?” He’s extremely smug when he says that btw

The more you react to it, the more it’ll amuse him. Worst part is that no matter how much you deny saying along the lines “when have I ever called you pretty?” or “do you really think i think you’re pretty right now”, he’ll bring out a voice recorder who knows where he got it from or when he had it on him and plays what you said to him back on speaker

If you manage to sass him back about how “wow, to think that’s all it takes to stroke your ego” or something similar, he’ll get petty and sulk. Might even try to start a childish argument with you

If you don’t, expect him to pretty much be in a good mood for the next few days around you and the others. Especially with others, his family and Jon are going to be wondering why he’s suddenly smiling to himself and in such a good mood. It’s scaring them especially when he does it out of nowhere, without any reason they personally know of

He’s going also let you indulge with anything you want to do with him whether it’s simply hugging, cuddling, hand-holding, spend time at a park - he’s at the point he wouldn’t mind since he’s too happy to be called pretty by you

#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #nightwing #nightwing x reader #jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood #tim drake x reader #tim drake #red robin #duke thomas x reader #duke thomas #dc signal #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne

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harukyuu2 · 4 months ago

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Hello, a request, please from the Furin boys x reader, the Furin boys discover that their girlfriend buys Sanrio plushies that look like them (they put an image of Hello Kitty's friends and the Furin boys, but according to me Ume looks like Cinnamonroll, not Kitty)

Hellooo! I loved this collab tbh so here it is !! ALSO RHANKS FOR ALL THE LIKESSS i love y'all

♡ Pure fluff - Female reader !! - Hello kitty replaced by Cinnamonroll <3 - Small revision

☆ Characters - Haruka Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, Suo Hayato, Nirei Akihiko, Kyotaro Sugishita

!! You were the literal definition of what TikTok calls a "Sanrio Girl." It was almost like you were born to live and breathe it! TikTok is freaking out over the hunt of a limited-edition Hello Kitty purse from the 2010s? Yeah, it’s just sitting there in your wardrobe. People are debating the existence of a discontinued Sanrio character that only three people in the world probably know about? You’re definitely one of them. That being said, your boyfriend had no idea about your little... obsession. You kept it pretty low-key in public, and he’d never been over to your place before. But lately, you couldn’t help noticing some uncanny similarities between him and one of your Sanrio plushies! So, you finally invited him over for the first time, ready to reveal your little collector’s hobby—and to prove your point about the similarities between them!

◇♡ ~ H A R U K A S A K U R A

• He was STUNNED.

• and confused too- how did you sleep on that bed packed of plushies?? Was that even your bed? Or a bed for the plushies...?

• dont think he didnt notice you like cute things but this- how arent you broke from so much things??

He tensed slightly, his brows furrowed and cheeks flushed, as you grabbed a plushie and held it up in front of him, comparing the two with intense focus to confirm your theory.

"The fuck-"

"Shut up, im thinking!" - Haruka grumbled at that answer with a small blush but listened to you

• When you compared them, he inmediately huffed embarassed of your decision, didnt you have something better than a dog?? was that supposed to say he was an animal? He isnt too good with this weird comparations you make..

"Why are you comparing me to a DAMN DOG!? is it- IS IT MY HAIR!?" - You smiled softly at his words and camed slightly closer explaining yourself before he explodes from embarassment.-

"Basically yes, but did you know that Pochacco sometimes is clumsy and sticks his nose where he shouldnt?" - She leaves a small laugh and feels happy that he is still hearing her even if she is basically talking about a topic people consider for a younger audience. - "Just like you the other day! You decided to see what was happening with Anzai even if you could just shrugged it as a problem of him only" - She smiles sweetly at his boyfriend who frowns even more, a tight line on his lips and a blush that almost emanated heat. He can bark all he wants, but you know in the inside he has a good heart that doesnt bite-

"Im not clum- i dont- ugh, im just doing what the captain of the class is supossed to do!" - He growls but shuts himself with her small kiss on his lips, rubbing his neck embarassed he surrenders. Maybe if he buys you more cute things you'll shut up about it? he isnt trying to spoil you of course !!

• If you’re worried about him finding it weird, don’t be. He might make a passing comment about you having too much stuff, but deep down, he doesn’t think it’s weird at all. If it makes you happy, that’s all that matters to him! Honestly, he’ll probably start thinking of you whenever he spots something with Pochacco or Hello Kitty. Just don’t expect him to learn all the names—his brain isn’t built for keeping track of all that!

• now, if you call the Pochacco plushie "our son"... you just made him stop working for the rest of the day. He will scream its not but in the inside he will like it

• if you convice him to bring atleast one of your Pochacco's plushies to his house so he sleeps with it when youre not there, he wont refuse but at first he will say its stupid. After some days, he isnt sure if you made a spell or something on that thing because now he cant sleep without hugging it when youre not around. he wont tell you that tho

☆ H A J I M E U M E M I Y A

• He will be excited to know your hobby even if he didnt understand at first what it was, a serie? a collection? a game? yeeeaah! it doesnt matter, if youre happy he is too. • He would tell you all the plushies you have are like his vegetables, their little babies! You two made the deal that now he has to take care of your things not getting dust if you arent around while you will take care of the plants not dying • When you compare him to Cinnamoroll, he hums looking at the plusie sweetly, how could he deny something to you? He was curious where did you finded them similar tho, it seems you love this plushies a lot. "You think so?" - Umemiya leaves a small laugh and grins posing with the plushie close to his face- "He has my haircolor!" "Yeah! But Cinnamoroll is a bit calmer than you… Still, you two totally look alike!" you say, happy to see that your boyfriend seems comfortable and not at all weirded out by your hobby. • When you tell him that Cinnamoroll is a dog and not a bunny HE IS SHOCKED. He will make a dramatic act apologizing to the plushie ngl he seems more eager to take care of it than you • When you ask him if he wants to bring it to his house, he shakes his head saying - "If you ever miss me and im not here, think of that little guy as me!" - He will accept a white shirt of Cinnamon tho, he wouldnt be embarassed to use it • Just imagine the heavenly kings seeing Umemiya talking about a problem of the town while he has a cinnamoroll shirt, he isnt even picking up why Hiragi has a different frown than usual ☆ S U O H A Y A T O • To be honest, he would be kinda surprised, but he wouldnt show it that much. His quick reaction is just blinking amused and smile to not worry you about him finding it weird "Oh dear, why have you been keeping this hobby as a secret? Its kinda cute..." - He says peeking around your room and taking by himself one of the plushies that called his attention, Kuromi. "Ah, Suo! that is-" - You were about to talk explaining the similarities between them but someway he is more fast than you. - "You sleep with this plushie? Hm...could it be that it reminds you of me?" - He ask on a certain mocking but lovely tone. When you ask him how does he know, he just shrugs it off and calls it "Boyfriend instict" • He would be totally fine with your little hobby, he just thinks about it as another thing to tease you about and see your cute face twitch a little. And also as an idea for future gifts "Why are you comparing me to a little jester bunny, love? Hm? Am I really that mocking to you...?" - he asks dramatically, letting out a small laugh.

• He’d love listening to you ramble about Sanrio for hours—he doesn’t mind you talking his ear off while he sips on some tea. Sometimes, he’d even try to argue with you about a fact (even if your version is correct) just because he enjoys seeing you get a little annoyed. Though he’d kiss you right after to make it up to you! • Just like Umemiya, he would let the plushie with you, so he can tease you about it when he remembers it in your usual morning walks together. "So, how was the night with my mini version? Did you sleep well, sweetheart?" ☆ N I R E I A K I H I K O • Just like Sakura, he was surprised to see your big collection of Sanrio things. What he would probably do the first time he sees this, is take out his notebook and quickly take notes of it so he has an idea of next gifts for you • When you tell him he looks like Pompompurin and show him the plushie, a blush creeps onto his face with a nervous smile, leaving him visibly embarrassed. He wouldnt deny it, but he'd definitely wonder why you think that. When you explain its because of his hair and his golden-retriever-like personality when he gets excited talking, he’d only look more confused.

• Yapper x Yapper type of relationship LITERALLY. While you ramble about Sanrio and Pompompurin similarities with him, he would yap you about Furin, a perfect balance between you two! • He would also find pretty funny finding similarities of sanrio characters with people of Furin, like a form of combine your two favourite things! "So hear me out on this one- Sakura looks like Pochacco!" - You say to Nirei with a convicing smile, showing him your plushie of Pochacco, Nirei just gasp and takes notes of it nodding at your such expert level of analysis. • Nirei would gladly accept you giving him Pompompurin to take care of at his house. He’d probably even send you random photos of Pompompurin in different spots around his place every hour Nirei: "Look! Purin is preparing himself to sleep" *one attached image* - Such a silly dog, you two go to sleep for tomorrow <3 • Such sweet parents for the plushie ngl ☆ K Y O T A R O S U G I S H I T A

• Yeaaahhh, he isnt seeing your vision on the similarities...what does he has to do with a blue penguin called Tuxedo Sam? • At first, he wouldnt understand your obsession over Sanrio, but he wouldnt question you about it ever. After all, his grandma teached him to be a gentleman and he wouldnt want to make you two angry! "So, i think you look like this little guy!" - You said to him directly since Sugishita isnt a fan of overly complicated or unnecessarily long explanations. He blinked, confused, as he grabbed the plushie without thinking much about it. He didnt really see your point, but he didn’t want to upset you either, so he did his best to say something nice. "I-I like it! This penguin is... good!" - You sighed, crossing your arms but smiling at his effort. "Don’t force yourself, dummy..."

• If you start talking about Sanrio and your reasons for thinking he’s similar to Tuxedo Sam, he’ll probably just nod along to everything you say, even if he gets lost after your second explanation. Honestly, he might even fall asleep—but dont blame him, thats just something he tends to do! "Soooo, i thinked of Tuxedo as you because he doesnt like intruders and problems just like you with people that want to fight Umemiya! and...Are you awake-?" - If you get angry at him falling asleep he would try his best to make you feel better once he wakes up. • He wouldnt bring the plushie to his house, but a random day without you noticing he would take the size of the plushie to make custom outfits for Tuxedo. That would probably make you happy right? He asked his grandma for help pls like it

#wind breaker #wind breaker x reader #Haruka Sakura #Sakura Haruka x reader #Haruka Sakura x reader #kyotaro sugishita #kyotaro sugishita x reader #hayato suo #hayato suo x reader #nirei akihiko #nirei akihiko x reader #umemiya hajime #hajime umemiya #hajime umemiya x reader

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cultkinkcoven · 2 months ago

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really can’t stand people who refuse to even try with neopronouns or understand therians because to my autistic brain it is so fucking simple and I feel like it’s actually everyone else that are over complicating shit.

We came up with a couple terms to describe a couple ideas of self. He, she, they. I don’t use neos, but I do use he and they. I use he because I am masculine aligned and I use they because I am also nonbinary and not entirely masc. I don’t have any feelings towards myself that do not feel human.

But some of our gendered pronouns aren’t even enough, and on the realest note, my gender is probably somewhere between boy slut and freak, but I usually just keep that to myself. If someone feels like these words aren’t specific enough to them, fuck yeah make another one. Are you kidding me? You explored your own identity enough to have come up with a special custom term that perfectly describes you? That’s so fucking cool dude.

If a neurodivergent person with CPTSD feels extremely inhuman because of their psychology/ trauma or real world experiences with discrimination, (wow you mean the person everyone treats differently doesn’t feel very human?! that’s crazy!) but they do however have a very easy time relating and communicating with cats through their nonverbal social cues, if they feel comfortable and expressive wearing a tail and ears, and think of themselves as “cat”, okay??? cool? Cat is a homie, tf. Why wouldn’t I want to be friends with cat, cat seems to know how to have fun.

If a neurodivergent person with DID has multiple altars that are littles, and because of some experience, they experience their little as an animal, a puppy, or baby bird, …. okay??? cool??? I’m not really in any kind of position to tell chick that chick can’t fucking exist, and honestly it’s really none of my business how a system manages their littles. “oh they’re probably mentally ill” okay??? And perhaps they are? They’re still living are they not? They still exist, yes? So am I going to go out of my way to make their existence more difficult? I don’t really see the point!!!

If a neurodivergent person with antisocial personality disorder has never felt connected to humanity whatsoever and simply does not want to be referred to by human terms, it’s really not my place to debate about it.

It doesn’t even have to be that serious. You’ve always identified strongly with fairies? Be a fucking fairy dude. No one can stop you. You feel like you’re an elf? Okay! No one can control you, you are whatever the fuck you are regardless of how anyone feels. You can reinvent yourself tomorrow. Why tf not.

Is it really that hard to dynamically adapt language? Like, when people tell me they don’t know how they could possibly use xi xim or xe xer (pronounced with a Z) in a sentence, it tells me that they literally have a lower capacity for learning language. Like they’re not smart enough to apply pronoun grammatical rules to new words, they can’t even fathom the concept of a new word because they somehow believe that words aren’t made up by people but just pop magically into existence. You don’t have to get neopronouns but if you’re telling me you seriously cannot figure it out, I’m genuinely going to think you’re slightly dumb (unless you’re dyslexic, you get a pass I know it’s rough out here for y’all lmao)

It’s not that I think every case of neopronouns is easily explainable and super simple, because it doesn’t even have to be.

It’s more so that, with 7 billion fucking humans on this planet, it’s really not a surprise to me that some of them express their identity through non human terms. As someone with autism I can understand that, even if I don’t feel the exact same. There is always going to be some weird person who goes by knife/knives or bun/bunny. Im kind of just happy they’ve found something they can feel comfortable within. I genuinely cannot bring myself to care enough to argue with someone about it.

The whole “so I can identify as an attack helicopter?” thing is so stupid because if you were being genuine you could identify as a damn fighter jet. But y’all ain’t ready for that conversation because everyone who is passionate is too cringe for y’all to handle.

#rant #neopronouns #transgender #trans community #lgbtqia #neurodivergent #autism

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thatdeadaquarius · 1 year ago

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GREETINGS! How are you doing? I've been practically gobbling up your posts (there very tasty)

Ok so hear me out- I've seen a couple posts like this but imagine-

The almighty all powerful wise creator isss

✨️A literal child✨️

Thanks for hearing me out! For you ->->❤️

Baby you taking on the world aw

DAMN SORRY FOR TAKING FOREVER!! i started fics before i answered my askbox :/

Aw i fucking love child reader stuff,

Lots of isekai animes/manhwa/manga do it and i eat that shit up everytime-

I also deeply appreciate when its not done creepily, like being turned 8 again, and having crushes on others who are... yknow, actually 8 yrs old or sm fucked up shit, like even if its 16 yr olds that doesnt make it any better, bc the protag will actually be like,, actually 20?!?!💀 the straights r wild man, i feel like it happens either way too, like its usually a male MC but thats just bc theyre more common tbh, like regardless of gender of protag 🥲

☆

Sun: Child God Reader (you/they/them)

Orbit: Short Headcanons

Stars: Mondstadt ppl bc i don't show them i love them enough

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: none known & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment any I missed. /gen

Klee has recruited converted you to throwing bombs with her.

You are the only leash on that child too and the only thing standing between Jean and full head of gray hair. 💀

Kaeya doesn’t know whether he’s endlessly worried or endlessly amused that the most powerful god is currently a child

if Jean isnt freaking out over ur whereabouts, Diluc is instead, and worst case scenario, Noelle/Lisa/Albedo is in charge of you

and YES someone has to look out for you, bc ur ass will just start making a hot springs spot like ur in ur teapot or smth in dragonspine (Albedo was fascinated it stayed warm despite the weather so he let you make it/enjoy it before asking u to restore natural order lol)

(Albedo has definitely asked to study you and, unfortunately for Jean, asked u to demonstrate several powers u have)

You do work as a lucky charm for Bennett tho so he does babysit u sometimes

it mostly consists of Fischl, Benny, and Razor “adventuring” by trying to do smth like who can jump on the Anemo slimes and ride them around longest

(the answer is you btw, u managed to get a small fleet of them to bus you around, the teens were simultaneously terrified running around below u to catch you and also amazed)

Noelle is so happy making toddler you all the pancakes you can eat, Sucrose had to stop her from going overboard and not just listening completely to kids when it comes to food

She is now very concerned with making you a balanced diet, tho she will still make u an ungodly tall stack of pancakes every now and then <3

They kind of all equally provide for you, obv ur their god, and ur a literal cutie patootie child, they cant just leave you

(also u might like move a mountain or change the weather or smth if they don't watch you so most are a little paranoid of that too)

Lisa gets u all kinds of cute outfits, still stuff you'd like, but definitely snuck in some sumeru looking clothing lol

Fischl lends you all kinds of books to read, Bennett shows u all the cool views in the city and outside of it (when Jean lets him get away with taking u that far), and Razor…

Razor brings you to Andrius and the wolf pack for a wolf pack party and gives u all kinds of shiny trinkets he’d collected for you

Diluc/Jean/Noelle/Eula nearly had a heart attack when they found out

Amber lets you have all the piggyback rides you want lol

she even managed with her own crafting powers (and your probably editing the game code or smth) she somehow makes a reinforced glider with a small harness on the back for you to glide with her

(Venti has definitely helped for some fun flights by boosting the winds for you two)

SPEAKING OF BARBATOS

ur absolutely spoiled rotten by him (and Dvalin, and Andrius, and the wind sprites)

if this god had money he’d spend it on wine and you lol

takes u flying all the time, any time, would drop everything to go to Mondstadt wilds and use his archon form wings to take you wherever you wanna go

tries to bring u to Angel’s Share but Diluc nearly hits him on the head with a wine bottle and brings you back home after kicking Venti out and giving you grape juice (yes you get all you want, within a healthy amount)

anyway the most important part abt you being a god and child is that you can now fulfill your childhood dreams of riding a dragon whenever you want

(one way to quickly get Mondstadt citizens to trust Dvalin again was just constantly seeing him flying overhead, occasionally seeing a small child on his back also helped lol)

(neither you nor Venti tell Jean you ride Dvalin and keep it an active secret from her.)

☆

srry i took so long! i hope u liked my hot mess of writing (i think its even sloppier than usual bc of all the fic writing full sentences lately)

and if not, I'm sorrryyy 😭😭

I'm focusing on getting thru a haul of asks before getting around to posting that Eldritch AU Part 2 if anyone reads this :)

hope u guys are have a great weekend, thanks for all the birthday wishes!! :D

Safe Travels Anon,

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit

@kiyomi-uchiha777

#genshin imagines #genshin sagau #sagau #genshin isekai #gender neutral reader #my asks #aqua asks #genshin impact sagau #sagau child reader #genshin child reader #genshin god reader #tiny burst of an ask bc that felt appropriate #more to come today and next few days #THANK YOU FOR THE ASK ANON <33 #:)

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eds6ngel · 1 year ago

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Please friend, I need Eddie and his equally feral grungy little girlfriend. Think like Allison Reynolds from the Breakfast Club before they gave her the hideous pink makeover. I want these two clowns to match each other’s energy, both of them nuts about D&D and metal, and I want her to be the one member of Hellfire who is in charge of drawing these insanely intricate drawings of everyone’s player characters.

being eddie's grungy gf would include ...

a/n: i think this calls for some headcanons! and i suppose this is my reminder to watch 'the breakfast club' as i still haven't gotten round to it ! :')

warnings: SLIGHT SMUT!! (one mention of sex, two allusions.) fem!reader. artsy!reader. grungy!reader. kissing. one mention of people calling eddie a 'freak.' tons of fluff and comfort !!

𝜗𝜚 you guys met in your sophomore year.

𝜗𝜚 eddie had been looking to set up a d&d club at the end of the year, knowing his middle school friends (jeff & gareth) were now going to be in high school with him.

𝜗𝜚 eddie didn’t know that you played d&d at the time, but he had sneaked a glance at your notebook during art class and was very intrigued into your drawings, many which consisted of your own monsters, fairies, dragons, anything magical and mystical.

𝜗𝜚 he knew the opportunity was even greater when you were pinning ‘battle of the bands’ posters in the school hallways. he couldn’t believe it was you making those incredible designs.

𝜗𝜚 asked you right there and then if you could help him design a poster for his new club.

𝜗𝜚 you were unsure at first, wondering what the hell this random dude who was in your art class wanted a poster for.

𝜗𝜚 however, you were immediately on board when he mentioned it was for d&d.

𝜗𝜚 you were technically the first member to join his club. it was you and him against the world at that point.

𝜗𝜚 you asked some of your artsy friends who were also in the drama club if you could rent their space on friday nights for weekly campaigns.

𝜗𝜚 they reluctantly said yes just because it was you. eddie was happy as it was one of the few groups of people outside of his own friend group that weren’t calling him a ‘freak’ upon arrival.

𝜗𝜚 over the summer, you and eddie met up to discuss how the whole ordeal would work. his trailer had basically become your second home by that point.

𝜗𝜚 you had started cooking meals together, you would go out to benny’s for a quick evening bite, you even started sleeping over at his.

𝜗𝜚 you began with bringing over a sleeping bag to camp out on his floor, but it soon turned into the two of you just sharing his bed. platonically, of course.

𝜗𝜚 it wasn’t until jeff and gareth came to visit the two of you so you could start drawing their characters for eddie’s visual reference that they encouraged eddie to grow some balls and ask you out.

𝜗𝜚 it took him a couple more weeks, but he finally got there.

𝜗𝜚 luckily you felt the same and you shared your first kiss that day.

𝜗𝜚 and by the time your junior year rolled around, everything was settled in place.

𝜗𝜚 eddie let you sit on his lap during campaigns, to which the boys always complained about.

𝜗𝜚 and after the boys had left, you got up to some… not exactly PG activities on his throne.

𝜗𝜚 or your throne, should you say. eddie said that the throne was all yours, since you decorated the entire thing.

𝜗𝜚 it was actually a 50/50 split effort.

𝜗𝜚 you were the couple who annoyingly blasted metal music out of his van on late night drives at 2am.

𝜗𝜚 hopper stopped you once as you had been getting noise complaints from locals.

𝜗𝜚 you and eddie both agreed it was only because it was metal music and continued anyway.

𝜗𝜚 eddie didn’t realise how feral you were until you got together. you were pretty excitable when you were simply platonic friends, but this was a whole different level.

𝜗𝜚 he didn’t care though as he loved it (and it also transferred to the bedroom.)

𝜗𝜚 sickly PDA couple alert ! eddie’s kissing you all the time ! the boy cannot keep his hands to himself ! he’s infatuated by you !

𝜗𝜚 always sharing cassettes. the both of you never buy new albums individually anymore. you either listen to them together and nerd out, or you share them back and forth.

𝜗𝜚 friday night dates after d&d ! i repeat, friday night dates after d&d !

𝜗𝜚 followed by some truly amazing sex. thank god wayne took the late night shift on fridays. and you hoped it never changed. because it was always the best ending to your week, and you didn’t want to change it for as long as you lived.

taglist: @cosmorant @ye0nvibezzn @tlclick73 @agxxb

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #eds6ngel

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crezz-star · 2 years ago

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I can't help but wonder about your One Piece OC! I know you've mentioned that he's a mature person in the crew, but do you see him as more of a sibling/parental role to Luffy, or is he part of the shenanigans with usopp/chopper/luffy, or is he like tired uncle like Jinbei (or secretly amused like zoro) ? I am eager to hear about where he meshes in with crew especially luffy

I also can't help but wonder if our first mate gets jealous of him often. You mentioned that you do, but I think about like what if some days luffy just misses Ace, and luff will stare at Jean a lot more sometimes or just hover around him just to relive being with his brother *cries*

✨Kira kira yoho!✨

Hello!

Ahhh!! Im so happy and excited every time I get question about my OCs (❤´艸｀❤) Thank you for taking interest and being curious about Jean!

To answer. He is more of big brother type. Not just to Luffy but to everyone. Even the older mature straw hats. Jean just have so much love to give, growing up not knowing much about the world, isolated and thinking himself to be a slave until death. It really is Luffy and the strawhats who saved him and his fellow slaves so, he's enthusiastic in showing them how much he cares for them. how thankful he is to them for saving him, and along with that, his life. So he spoils everyone like this cool doting brother.

I'm actually planning to make one paged comic series ( kind of like 4 koma? ) in his interactions with the strawhats. As well as discovering more of the world. little sneak peek with Sanji ( ignore the cross. i changed that to a locket )

Here, Jean becomes the big brother Sanji dreamed and should have had. At first it annoys Sanji to no end even saying stuff like " gross, dont touch me. its weird! " but Jean is so gentle towards the crew, even helping Sanji wash the dishes, even cleaning the kitchen at night to surprise Sanji that eventually, Sanji accepts Jean. And finally allows himself to be spoiled. Even bringing out that side of Sanji that longs for a caring brother. One he only dreamed back then.

Jean has that ability to let everyone's hidden side of wanting to be spoiled and Jean is all to happy to do so. He is just so happy to be there with everyone. That he never really asks for anything in return.

--------------

As for Zoro being made Jealous by Jean. Yes he does that. but there is a moment only the three of them knows. Its when Luffy gets nightmares about Ace every now and then. most of the time he can deal with it, but there are times he's so shaken. When Jean wasn't around yet, it's Zoro trying to calm him down. But when jean arrived, the three of them found out that, despite being freaked out by jean and Ace looking alike, Jean helps Luffy calm down due to his voice being exactly like Ace's. Along with it, Jean's hugs is just one of the best. Even beating hugs from Jinbei. There's a strange therapeutic effect.

Here is a comic I doodled quickly just now to show that.

I still wanted to emphasize the eerie feeling from Jean and Ace's similarities are so the comic ended up a bit off. (laughs) please forgive me!

Every time this happens, Luffy does apologize to Jean for asking him to 'talk' like Ace. He knows it's wrong, but honestly, Jean would do anything to calm Luffy. and He knows Luffy doesn't mean it and that he's just suffering, So Jean is very patient with him and never really feels offended at all.

And that is all the answers I have!

Thank you for being interested in Jean!! 💖💖

✨Have a sparkling day!✨

#zolu #ゾロル #portgas d ace #one piece #one piece oc #kureask

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vossprime · 2 months ago

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20 Questions: Writing Edition

Tagged by the Inquisition herself ( @inquisitornocturn ), thank you, this looks so fun!

How many works do you have on ao3?

23!

What’s your total ao3 word count?

102,210

What are your top five fics by kudos?

Mechanical; Medicinal (Rogue Trader)

Absolute / Obedience (BG3)

Systematical; Sacrificial (Rogue Trader)

I don't know where to put my hands (Metro 2033)

Blood in the Water (WH40K)

What fandoms do you write for?

WH40K, broadly speaking.

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes! I try to respond to all of them simply because they spark an endless well of joy in me and most often inspire me to say something in return. Also whenever I comment I love replies as well, so I try to keep that going.

What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Once I fucking sit down and continue Blackwater Days you will all see-

From my recent ones, on the principle of want (RT, Achilleas x Heinrix) comes to mind. Not for the plot, necessarily, which is more sorrowful than angsty, but the last line:

For a moment Heinrix wants to kiss him awake, kiss him goodbye. The Interrogator breathes once, twice, then turns on his heel and leaves the room.

It was a deliberate choice to contrast Heinrix with his title here, that was my special little treat to myself. I gain another health bar anytime someone points it out.

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Ironic, given the title, but Bellicose Hearts (Horus Heresy). It was written as a gift and a challenge for @mortallyperfecttimemachine and the theme was humor and fluff, so it ended on a nice note. A photo together. The remembrancers are happy. Keeler is there. Karkasy is alive. Isstvan is far away.

Do you get hate on fics?

Not directly! My comments are locked to registered accounts only, that seems to dissuade the obvious bots and trolls. Always fond of the ask I got that was just a "👎" tho.

Do you write smut?

In theory yes, in practice I have been told my smut is just character studies in disguise. My most popular fics stay the ones that were exclusively written with my [redacted] though.

Do you write crossovers?

Not really - most often they don't hold any appeal for me.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope!

Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

No, but I'm already being vagued /j - SOON.

What’s your all time favourite ship?

You're asking someone who has a brain like a sieve and triple-wields ships until polyamory is the only sensible solution :D

What’s the wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

None. I plan to see everything through. If it takes 10 years, it takes 10 years. Farseer grindset.

What are your writing strengths?

Prose, poetry, evocative imagery.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Dialogue. Who came up with this. Is it not enough to communicate through 4-6 intricately crafted metaphors and call it a day? Hell world.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

Provided I am writing in English, I provide translation in the footnotes and try not to have it drag on for too long. I do enjoy some language variety in fic, though. Dirty Talk in another language? Elite. Sadly I come from the language the absolute least suited for writing this.

First fandom you wrote for?

The first one I published for was Metro 2033, the book. The first one I wrote was for a mobile game called The Arcana. Don't judge me, a bitch saw tarot themes and a pointy-toothed nonbinary vivisection freak and decided he just might. A true freak from day one - you can tell why I like Tervantias.

Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

I'm going to level with you. It will always be the last one. I grow and evolve with each piece and whatever I have last put out will be my pride and joy at that very moment. However, Blackwater Days (which I still plan to bring past chapter 1, it's just sitting in my drafts all disjointed and none of like 5 chapters empty but none ready either) will always be close to my heart for how much planning, fantasizing and worldbuilding happened around it. Those three hour discussions with my roommate on military strategy are sacred.

Tagging: Let me gather my irl squad for a second: @definitely-not-iorveth @mortallyperfecttimemachine , @goofgoofdildo , @ineadhyn , I'd be really interested to hear if you feel like it!

#[voss transmission]#tag game

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blueteller · 1 year ago

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Cale's Super Rock Villa Has a Deeper Meaning

So, I was re-reading the Caro Kingdom fight against the White Star recently (around chapter 450) since it's a super underrated fight… so much stuff I forgot from that part. Like, Mary actually using a dead mana sword?? That's so freaking cool!!

Anyway, the reason I bring it up is because there's an important detail about KRS's past there, which I totally missed before!

As Choi Han attacks the White Star in TCF Chapter 453, he recalls a flashback from CJS's life:

After struggling at work with Kim Rok Soo when he first entered the company, he headed home right away after finishing work for a while after he got used to the work. There were colleagues who wanted him to join them after work because he was a friendly guy, but he always declined and headed to his own place. Only Kim Rok Soo and the team leader knew the reason he had to go straight home. Honestly speaking, his home wasn't much. The company that was located in Seoul was located around the central border of the destroyed area and the still somewhat intact area and Choi Jung Soo's house was around there as well. His house was a small one bedroom in a building that was barely maintaining its shape as a villa. The building looked old like the buildings in a movie about the apocalypse he wanted before the world changed, but the people living inside were happy.

GUYS. DID YOU CATCH THAT? KRS LIVED IN A VILLA!!

And old, crumbling villa where he owned only one bedroom – but that's not the freaking point!!

First of all – KRS liked Super Rock Villa so much because it reminded him of his old home! That's just so sweet. He's such a sentimental guy...! 😭

But that's not what I want to focus on. Yes, there were the Henituse villa and the Harris Village as well, but... Super Rock Villa is different. As something that Cale inherited, by himself, it represents something more than merely a house to live in.

Think about it: the state of the two villas Cale lived in... it's like an allegory to his previous life VS his new life!

In his old life, he lived among the very people he protected, but he kept distance from them. It wasn't a physical distance – since he was living in the same building as them – but he didn't make any friends with his neighbors. Just like with his co-workers, KRS enjoyed their happiness from the sidelines... because KRS was cursed and doing his best to stay away in order to protect them 💔

But! BUT! In his new life, when he got Super Rock villa, not only was it in pristine condition – in contract to the old one which was falling apart – but the first thing he did, was fill it with living beings!!

...Sure, he also did that stupid in-denial internal monologue how he's doing it because he wants them to protect him. But we all know Cale is a shameless liar by this point; even to himself. ...Especially to himself.

So basically: Cale did that because he WANTED TO LIVE AMONG HAPPY PEOPLE AGAIN

Except this time – he was a part of that family!!

The whole Wind Island's test of fear later re-affirms the idea completely. Cale's biggest fear is the Super Rock villa being empty. The happy home meant for friends and family becoming their grave.

The Super Rock Villa is so much MORE to Cale than merely a cool rich house to live in. It directly represents the state of his life and family 😭

#tcf #trash of the count's family #lcf #lout of the count’s family #cale henituse #cale #tcf cale #tcf analysis #character analysis #super rock villa #tcf meta #see things like that is why i adore this novel so much #there's just so much to dig into once you start paying attention #cale is such an interesting person with so many complexities to his past and behaviours and choices #i love it

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harukasangel · 1 month ago

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Yk, I'm seeing lots of ppl on twitter saying that Haruka was 'delighted' when he killed animals, and in regards to my poll quite a while ago, I do wanna say this. It's just my own personal two cents I'm throwing in, but I personally think Haruka doesn't, on layman terms, hate animals. Sure, he wanted to change after his killings escalated to a actual human being and the report stated he felt remorse for *her*, but think about it--Haruka *knew* that the owners seeing the corpses of their pet caused them misery, he *knew* that those pets meant a lot to them. Heck, Haruka believes in god, he knows murder of any living creature is wrong! The report never said he was 'delighted' or 'happy', just relived. Relived ≠ happiness. Relief is when feelings of stress and anxiety fade away. He killed animals as a coping mechanism rather than out of pure sadism

So he didn't keep killing animals because he hated them and basked in the delight of the owners' screams (no seriously, did we read the same freaking report?). He kept doing it because he felt like, for once, he mattered in the world and made some sort of different/impact in the lives of others, even if it was negative (hello???? Haruka "Ever since I was born, I was only ever naturally good at bringing misfortune to others" Sakurai)

Do I think he felt remorse? Honestly, he probably felt bad about later on. Ik it's never stated in the report, but it's also never stated he took pleasure in them. Probably not as remorseful as the girl (he still values humans over animals), but still didn't want to live a life where he had to kill....well anything

Was it a selfish, fucked up reason? Yes, and Haruka was aware of this. More aware than what people give credit for. You can love Haruka and acknowledge that he killed weaker beings for the sake of wanting some temporary control in his life

He's my pookie wookie. He's my kamioshi. He's my blorbo. I wanna put him in my pocket and cuddle him. But he's also my insane sweetie that had, indeed, committed all those crimes

#💧💙 - haruka #haruka sakurai #milgram

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alpaca-clouds · 10 months ago

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Astarion, Sexuality, and Polyamory

I have not written an Astarion analysis for a bit. But there is actually something I kinda want to explore more for Astarion. Because I actually think there is one aspect that does not get explored enough - specifically in spawn endings. (I do not think it is quite that relevant to ascended endings, because Ascended Astarion is never gonna admit to it.)

I am not telling anyone anything new that a lot of Astarion's arc is about reclaiming his personhood, and also his sexuality, after Cazador stripped his personhood from him, and controlled his sexuality for two freaking centuries. We also do know that for an elf Astarion was still a minor when Cazador turned him. While we don't know exactly for how long he was a vampire, we know it was roughly 200 years - and the official age puts him at 268 right now. So he was not 100 years, which is when elves usually come of age. (Which also explains why he has a name that very much sounds like an elvish child name.)

We do know that usually elves are quite sexually liberal and yes, elves that are physically grown but not considered adults by elven standards will usually still fuck a lot. Because they are fucking hippies. It does stand to reason that Astarion hence had some sexual experience prior to being turned. But still, given how young he was in comparison to an elvish lifespan... The majority of his sexual experience was controlled by Cazador in one way or another.

Ironically we do not even know whether Cazador himself ever directly raped any of his spawn. We know he tortured them, but headcanoning Cazador as demi or ace works perfectly fine with the infomation we are given.

Given that during the two hundred years Astarion was with Cazador he did not have a lot of actually consensual sex, and most sex he had was always about him trying to seduce the next victim to accompany him to Cazador, it does stand to reason that Astarion does know a lot about technique in terms of sex... But - and that is the thing I would love to see explored a lot more - actually does not really know what he himself likes. Because to him nothing he was forced to do was ever really enjoyable, was it? Because it was forced onto him.

This is also where the last Astarion post I made comes to play. Aka how the Astarion romance arc gets a nice bow at the end on the graveyard. It is one of those gamey-thingies, where the character arc gets fully resolved, because it kinda has to - even though realistically it would probably take months for a person to get to that point.

I still think, though, it is an underexplored theme. How Astarion actually needs to learn that sex can be something that he had can do for himself, that can (but does not have to) be about connection to someone else, and which can offer a context to give up control - but does not necessarily need to. And I just like the idea of him getting to learn again what he actually likes.

To me this is particularly interesting because I read Astarion in a way that he links a lot of his self-worth to his seductiveness, but actually seems also very naive when it comes to sex.

This also brings me to the other aspect: The polyamory option. Astarion in the game does not have a problem with the polyamory with Halsin. However, his first reaction is: "It is not because we have not in a while, is it?" His big insecurity in there is: "Oh, we have not fucked, now they don't want me anymore." If you assure him though, that it is not about that, he will be fine with it.

Again, I would in a way argue that there is also once more the "tie a little bow around it" thing happening, given that the game just wanted a proper happy ending there. I am absolutely sure that Astarion is in general fine with polyamory (especially given that Faerûn is not as mononormative as the real world is - so it is not like a super foreign concept), but I do think he is in general just insecure about his own relationship to a romanced partner. Because let's face it: The man struggles with a lot of insecurity and self-hatred, because of what he has done and was made to do.

And realistically speaking, that might well come through if there was something polyamorous happening. (And let's be clear: Anything polyamorous, because let's not be limited by the sparse options canon provides.) Because while I think Astarion is absolutely able to feel compersion, I also think he will never the less always compare himself to whatever other partner(s) his partner has. Because the man really, really needs some lessons in self-love again.

I talk about it a low, how yes, Astarion is the character from the game I write about most - but he is actually not my favorite character. Like, non-companion NPCs included he is still in the Top 10, but more like number 6 or 7 probably. But I love writing about him, because... Well, I love writing about people healing from trauma because it allows me to project *coughs* and there is just no character for this like Astarion. And I do love to write different characters healing in different ways. Astarion's way is probably the most messy one, though.

Funnily enough in my stuff he does end up in a polycule too. But at first it is mostly about him realizing, that Tav still has feelings for his ex-girlfriend. And yes, in the end it is Astarion who sets them up to get back together. Before he gets his own scaly boyfriend a bit later. But that is all stuff that happens more than 18 months post canon, where he got a chance to heal a bit from all the shit. He is not fine, but he is a lot better than before.

Ironically I do think that at some point later on he is also going to get with Halsin. But that might be like 10 or 20 years in the future. Not an immediate thing.

#baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion meta #astarion analysis #trauma #ptsd #cw sa #polyamory

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urperfectcinnamonroll07 · 3 months ago

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Hey soo uhh can I like request an Alex volkov x fem!reader?

It can be a fluff oneshot or headcanons or whatever. but here's the visual: After alex goes to pick up Ava and makes a detour to the bakery, he spots a girl preparing Josh's cake, all in her pink, cutesy world.

Alex then takes notice that it's one of Ava's friends that he's only seen like 3 times before in his life. He asks if she's going to Josh's party but she declines, saying that Josh would freak out if he saw or heard about her being at a party (let's say that the reader has been close to the Chen's for a very long time that they start considering the reader as family)

Alex pays no mind but when he starts seeing the reader pop out of nowhere almost every single day, he gets sort of attached?

and if you don't mind, if you do consider doing this request, could you make it to where reader is happy go lucky? Nice, always happy, innocent like real innocent? I'm sorry to ask this 😭 I know this is a lot. anyways have a good day!

My Only Sunshine

Requested?: yes pairing(s): Alex Volkov x gn!reader genre: fluff (may become a series) warning(s): most likely gonna become a series, so SLOWBURN slowburn (good luck), reader is too innocent for the world, mentions of reader's parents dying, alex is honestly so in love and its painful, some mentions of reader with some feminine traits, but it could be for a guy too (i think), mentions of sex, no smut, reader is a virgin, but there is still no smut, left on a cliffhanger (i may make a pt 2) summary: 𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘹 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘷𝘢'𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘣𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘺, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 word count: 2.3k a/n: sorry this is so late my love, but i love the request so much, and thank you for requesting. i have a lot to get out at the minute, so i may try my hardest (and sometime tomorrow i will bring back the fic i js posted of riki bc i read through it and it was shit, so i will edit it, happy days). remember to eat and drink something, love yas, mwah! (if you want i can make a pt 2 due to how it has been left on a cliffhanger)

you loved you job at ‘crumble and bake’ simply because you were such a bubbly person and you loved doing things for other people. people would usually say it’s a flaw, but you wouldn’t, you loved it.

your parents died when you were little, and after years of feeling like you were worth nothing, you finally found something that you were good at. baking. you also managed to find your people. the chen’s. ava and alex were literally like your siblings, and their dad micheal was like your own dad. you were told multiple times about a guy called alex who was josh’s best friend, but you never actually met him.

you were now working in a bakery, ava and the rest of your friends were in university chasing their dreams while you were living yours. in a small bakery in a huge city. you baked all sorts of things. cookies, cakes for birthdays and everything else, pastries, everything. business was booming and everyone loved you. you would say you had a good personality, and others said you did too.

it was pouring outside, and you were trying your hardest to hold out closing the bakery because ava said she was coming to pick up her brothers cake for the party they were having that night, but it was hours past closing time and you were freezing as well as tired. it had been a long night and you just wanted to climb into bed and watch your favourite tv show until you fell asleep.

you heard the bell of the bakery go off and you looked up from the icing on the cake you were doing for a pick up tomorrow. you saw ava and a man walk in from a car outside. you smile and say a ‘hi’ before going into the back to collect the cake, as you were walking, you could fell someone’s eyes trained on you.

you come back a few minutes later with josh’s cake in the box. the man and ava must have been having a hushed conversation, because when you came back, they both stopped and looked at you. you smile at ava and round the counter, handing her the box. you stand back and smile at the both of them. it was so discreet, you could have missed it if you weren’t looking properly, but ava nudged the man she was with.

“this is alex” ava smiles at you. ah, so the man you had never met. alex volkov.

“i’ve heard a lot about you” alex goes for a handshake, but you ignore his outstretched hand and go to hug him. he didn’t melt into the hug, but you didn’t really expect him to. but what he did do is pat your back twice, which was when you took your signal to pull away. you heard ava stifle a laugh at his face. you looked up and saw it too. clenched jaw and eyes staring miles ahead of him, a stoic façade. “oh, im sorry, i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable i just-“ you tried to explain, ava was still trying to stifle a laugh.

“its fine” the man eventually grumbled. his voice was low and he didn’t sound like it was fine, but you nodded.

you bit your lip softly in shame, ava moved the box so it was sat on her hip and patted your shoulder.

“would any of you like anything else? im about to close up” you say softly, looking between the two of them, alex’s eyes were back on you again, and you almost missed the way he had to harden them again to keep his stoic façade. you didn’t mind though.

“can i have some of those cookies jules likes? she would never forgive me if i came here and didn’t get her some” you nod and smile, going back around the counter and grabbed an already prepped bag of the cookies, you knew either ava or jules would come in today and ask for them, so you prepped them just in case. still warm.

this time, when you got back up, it was alex at the counter to pick them up. you saw ava smirking behind him. he looks back at her and she gives him a subtle nod, before he turns back around and swallows thickly.

you hand him the bag, and his fingers brush against yours. he closes his eyes and lets out a small huff. you thought you had annoyed him again until he opens his mouth and speaks.

“are you going to the party tonight?” he says, so quietly you didn’t hear at first, so you furrowed your brows. “are you” he sighs “are you going to josh’s party tonight?” he says, but this time slightly louder. ava’s smirk grew wider.

“uhm” you think, “no, josh would lose it if he ever found out i was going to a party, let alone one he was organising. plus im just gonna go straight home after closing up. its been a long week” you say. your cheeks were beginning to flush and you were beginning to ramble, this was probably the first time you were having a conversation with a man who swung your way.

he nods softly, his face never faltering from its hardness. honestly, alex would have just left it there as he assumed he would never see you again.

but when he had to take care of ava when josh was away, he found himself seeing you a lot more often, sometimes just making sure to drive past crumble and bakes on his way home so he could see you in that pretty pink apron you wore.

honestly, sometimes he even just sat there in his car and followed you home in it to make sure you got home alright that night (it was getting dark on a night and it was winter, don’t blame him for wanting to keep you safe).

he also found himself asking ava and josh more about you, just wondering what you were like. he often used the excuse that he just wanted to know to see if he could trust you with making his cake for his next birthday since the cakes you made always looked good and were always sweet (secret code for: you looked good and was always sweet).

he never showed an ounce of emotion around you though, so did he like you, did he not? of course, you were also quite interested in the big brooding man dressed in all black in the corner of your pink little bakery every so often, so you asked ava about him.

“that’s alex, of course you know his name, but not his face as you’ve never seen him before, but by the sounds of things, you’re both interested” she told you one day. interested? what? that can’t be right because he never shows any emotion around you and barely even talks to you but orders his black coffee around the same time every day, then leaving when you do.

now you think about it… maybe he could be interested, he just didn’t know how to show it! you may finally be understanding this guy. but the not showing emotion thing? what’s with that?

“how can he be interested when he barely ever shows any emotion around me, and barely ever speaks to me, apart from when no one else is out and about to ask for his coffee?” you ask, you were probably overthinking things, but you never had even spoken to a guy before, let alone one like him.

“trust me babe, he shows a lot more emotion around you than he does any of us” ava replies, holding a pink skin-tight dress up to you. you furrow your brows.

“i thought we were shopping for you?” she squint her eyes, probably trying to imagine you in the dress before putting it in the shopping basket.

“we are, but there’s a party jules is hosting soon and i want you both there so i can set the two of you up” she smiles before walking off slightly, leaving you dumbfounded, you jump back into action and follow her.

“what about josh? he’ll kill me and you and jules if he found out i was there” you protest. i mean, you hadn’t been to a party before, much less one jules was hosting, but you did kinda want to go.

“what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him” ava smiled, linking your arm with hers as you continued walking.

and that conversation is what lead you here. in the skin-tight dress ava insisted she bought you, face gorgeous with make up and hair done very nicely. you were stood, holding your clutch, looking for any of your friends who had insisted you come, but instead, someone had found you.

“i thought josh said he would kill you if you were caught at a party” it wasn’t a feminine voice, nor was it a voice you recognised that well, and you recognised a voice when you heard one. you spun around and saw, the one and only, alex volkov.

“i did, but uhm, ava and jules insisted i come, so here i am” you resumed looking around for them, not really caring If you looked or sounded rude. you needed someone you knew so you could spend the night with them instead of being forced to get drunk and ending up in a stranger’s bed the next morning. you had never had sex, and you planned to keep that up until you were married or at least found the right person.

“you looking for them?” you spun back around and furrowed your brows, you couldn’t hear him over the extremely loud music. “i asked if you were looking for them” he repeated louder, “i know where they are” you nodded in response and he held out his hand for you to take.

you furrowed your brows, he told you it was so you could stay together. you hesitated but took it anyways.

his hand heavily contrasted yours, his were cold and calloused, whereas yours were soft and warm. you didn’t mind though, as with your warm hands, his hand got warm pretty fast.

he lead you to an outside area where jules, ava, stella, a very well (shitty) disguised bridget, and booth sat. ava was first to walk over to you. she smiled and welcomed you. she ushered you over to sit with the rest of the group while she stayed back to talk to alex.

it was so discrete that you almost missed it, but you could have sworn you saw his hand flex when iy let go of yours in order for you to go sit with your friends. you sat with them and jules passed you a drink which you gratefully sipped on while you watched ava whisper something to alex, who then left.

not long later, you were in need of a trip to the bathroom, and after assuring your friends you would go alone, you set off to find the bathroom. as you walked through the crowd, your clutch in hand, you noticed someone’s eyes on you. yes, there was a lot of eyes on you, but you felt a certain pair in particular that you couldn’t trace, and funnily enough, you didn’t feel uncomfortable by them.

you shook it off and went to the bathroom nonetheless. and when you came out of the bathroom, a man was stood there in the shadows. he walked out and up to you, looking you up and down.

“hi alex” you didn’t know how you managed to find your voice. the two of you were close now. you never noticed the hues of green until now. until you were both looking deep into each other’s eyes. your voice died in your throat when he cupped your face in his pale and cold hands.

initially, you flinched at the cold contact, but when your face warmed up his hand, you leaned into his touch. you almost missed the small smile on his face as you did so. you could tell he wasn’t much used to physical touch as he stiffened after a while when a frisky couple pushed past the two of you, pushing you both into the wall.

“hi” he whispered back, gently moving a strand of hair out of your face.

his body was now fully pressed against yours, his body stiff aswell as yours. you could now see every inch of his face, his sharp jaw and his colourless and emotionless face juxtaposing yours. your mouth was slightly ajar in slight shock and arousal. you had never been this close to a male before, let alone one you may be interested in.

you would be lying if you said you didn’t go to the bathroom to try and get a glimpse of alex again. you were interested in him and you wanted to know more, which you couldn’t unless he opened up to you, which, he wouldn’t.

maybe you could get ava to tell you more.

alex seemed to become more conscious of what he was doing, his body against yours and his hand on your face. he pushed away from the wall, your face became cold when he took his hand away. you closed your eyes softly, and when you opened them again, he was gone.

you sighed and pushed off the wall and made your way back to your friends. you told them you were going to head home seeing as you were still fit to drive, the only drinks you had was either water or colourful mocktails. they all nodded and you said your goodbyes before making your way outside, pushing past sweaty bodies.

you made your way out of the house, and you managed to drop your car keys, clumsy you. you crouched down to pick them up, but a hand met yours as you both reached for them, you looked up and jade green eyes were staring into yours.

#alex volkov x reader #alex volkov #twisted love #twisted series #josh chen #fluff #ava chen

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badkitty3000 · 8 months ago

Text

You Can't Go Home Again

Chapter 5

Link to Chapters 3 and 4

Link to Chapters 1 and 2

Link to Chapter 6

All Five wants to do is rest. But when yet another apocalypse threatens to doom them all, he doesn't have that luxury. This time, the only solution for the Hargreeves to try and save the world is to unite Five with another, alternate version of himself.

Five starts to spiral when he is faced with the alternate life that he could have had, if only he hadn't gone and ruined everything. But maybe, just maybe, there's still time for him to obtain the happy ending he deserves.

An alternate season three rewrite for a request I received.

Warnings: None

More chapters will be posted as I continue writing this multi-chapter fic. Enjoy!

Chapter 5: You Can't Go Home Again

“I don’t know, I don’t think he’s doing too well.”

“Yeah, even before we got here, he’s not been looking great. I think he’s drinking way too much.”

“That much booze plus no sleep, topped with his size? It’s a recipe for disaster.”

“Should we help? Or at least say something?”

“Ha! Ok, sure, I volunteer you to go down there and broach this subject with our very temperamental and homicidal brother. I’m sure it will go over really well.”

“Well, we should do something. I feel bad for him. He’s been through so much.”

“It’s Five, he’s fine.”

“We can’t just keep saying that. Yes, it’s Five, but he’s clearly not fine and hasn’t been for a while.”

“What are we supposed to do about it? Send him to Junior AA? Maybe throw in a good six months of psychotherapy while we’re at it? We don’t have time for all of that.”

“Look, this isn’t the right time or place to be discussing this. We need to get home and then we can deal with it.”

“And what if we don’t get home? What if we end up somewhere else again? He’s going to really go off the deep end. I just don’t think he can handle another major mishap.”

“I’m not saying we don’t need to offer some help; I’m just saying that this is not the time to do it. There’s too much on the line right now. And you know he’s going to freak the fuck out if you try and bring it up, or even so much as offer any help. Just let the two of them figure this out first.”

“But we’re all in agreement about getting him some help once we’re back home, right?”

“Yes, definitely.”

“Good. Because I don’t want to see him hurt himself or worse because he can’t handle normal life once all of this is over. We already lost him once before; we don’t need a second time.”

“I think the old man deserves a little happiness in his life. Seeing all of this and what could have been…it must be killing him.”

“You’re the one that called him a dick to his face this morning.”

“Well, he is a dick! But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about him.”

“Me, too.”

“Same.”

“I think we all feel that way. Yes, even you, Lila, stop rolling your eyes.”

“On a different subject, are you guys hungry? Cause I’m starving.”

“What else is new?”

As the conversation swung in a different direction regarding food and how much Luther eats in one day, Five stepped back into the kitchen. He had come upstairs to clear his mind a little, and to also get some more coffee. He had actually wanted something much stronger, so he had been trying very quietly to search around in the cupboards for anything that would fit that bill. His siblings, who he had been trying to avoid, had been in the living room when he overheard them discussing his current state.

Hovering in the doorway, listening to their concerns, he glanced down at the bottle of cooking sherry in his hand. He swallowed hard as the shame began to wash over him. They were right; he was a dick. They didn’t even feel comfortable coming to talk to him about any of this because they were afraid he’d go fucking crazy on them. Which, Five realized, was entirely true.

He knew he had a problem; he wasn’t in denial. He had a lot of problems, actually, that was pretty obvious. But they also had another good point, and that was that they just couldn’t dive into all of that right now. Five was on borrowed time. They all were. And if they were going to make it out of this timeline in one piece, and restore things back to how they should be, then he couldn’t waste time sharing his feelings and getting a group hug.

With another wistful look at the bottle in his hands, he returned it, unopened, to the cupboard where he found it. He and his other version had been making really good progress, and he didn’t need to slow that down by getting wasted; no matter how tempting the thought may be. Filling up his coffee cup, he blinked back to the basement before he could change his mind.

*************************************

“Fuck, I think I have it,” the other Five said quietly while he adjusted some dials on the apparatus he was messing with. “I need a different screw driver. There should be one in that top drawer, can you hand it to me?”

Five opened the top drawer of the desk, moving various papers aside to try and find the screwdriver. When he came across a file folder, he picked it up to look underneath. Seeing the tool he needed, Five picked it up, but also accidentally dropped the folder so that all of the papers inside went fluttering to the ground.

“Damn it,” he muttered as he tossed the screwdriver to his other self and bent down to pick up the papers.

The other Five was not paying attention, since his focus was on his work at the moment, so he didn’t realize what had happened. As Five started collecting the papers and shoving them back in the folder, he noticed that a lot of them were newspaper clippings. As he inspected them more closely, Five saw that each one of the articles had to do with their father.

“Eccentric Billionaire And Former Olympian To Dedicate New Hospital Wing!”

“Reginald Hargreeves Debuts The Sparrow Academy: Meet Our Heroes”

“Hargreeves Institute Of Art Grand Opening Friday”

“Another Crime Ring Thwarted Thanks To Reginald Hargreeves And His Sparrow Academy”

“The Hargreeves Diet! Learn Reginald’s Secrets To A Healthy Lifestyle!”

Intermixed with the articles were hand-drawn schematics of the Academy, as well as a few crudely drawn ones of The Hotel Obsidian. Five recognized the drawing style and handwriting as his own.

Holding the folder up, he asked quietly, “What is all this?”

When his other self finally raised his head to look, his face paled for a moment before his eyebrows furrowed with anger. “It’s nothing that concerns you, so don’t worry about it.”

“Well, I think it does concern me considering you ARE me.”

“It’s irrelevant to what we’re working on now, so just drop it.”

Five looked down at the folder with concern, before setting it back in the drawer where he had found it. After another minute of silence, he spoke again.

“Listen, I’m not sure what you’re planning here, but…”

The other laughed contemptuously. “No, you don’t. You actually don’t know anything about me.”

“I do, though. Because—”

“Yeah, yeah…because you’re me, I get it. But just like I am not sitting around here wallowing in self-pity and drinking myself stupid, you don’t understand what I have going on, either.”

Five hesitated. That was all true, but he still didn’t like the idea of some weird obsession with their father. “Does Marie know you collect all of this stuff?”

The other Five slammed his palm on the table, rattling all of the parts lying on top. “Don’t fucking talk about my wife!” he yelled.

“Jesus…calm the fuck down. I’m not saying anything about your wife. But fine, I’ll drop the subject.”

“Good.”

After a few more seconds of uncomfortable silence between the two men, Five rejoined the other one at the table. “Looks good.”

The other him nodded as he used a small pair of pliers to tighten one more coil. “I think that should do it.”

“What do you think? Should we power it up?”

The two Fives looked down at the prototype for their time-travel device. As they had discussed earlier, it was small and portable with a wrist band so it could be worn as a watch. The current design had multiple dials to configure the exact date and time the traveler wished to go. They had agreed that it should also be stylish, so as to avoid any unwanted attention to it. The end result resembled a kind of large diver’s watch with a sleek design.

“Might as well give it a try. If it doesn’t work, we’re going to have to start at the beginning again. If it does…well, then we can build an exact replica so that we each have one.”

With a nod, Five took a deep breath. “Alright, then. I figure if we both channel our powers at the same time, we have a better shot.”

“Agreed.”

As Five watched his other self start to attach a pair of jumper cables to the device, he ran a nervous hand down the back of his neck. “Just so you know, the last time I tried to hot-wire something, not only did it not work, but I almost fried my nuts off.”

Still not looking up, the other Five shrugged. “Well, I don’t have a better idea, do you?”

Shaking his head, Five sighed. “No, not really.”

Once the jumper cables were hooked up properly, Five was handed his two ends of the cables. He swallowed nervously and exhaled a loud breath of air. “Fuck, I can’t believe I’m doing this again.”

“Ok, on three?”

Five nodded.

“One, two, thr…”

On cue, both Fives’ hands glowed with pulsating blue light as they worked on channeling as much of their power into it as possible. They watched as the light traveled slowly along the cables until it reached the watch-like device. As soon as their power made contact with it, the charge reversed itself, up through the cables again and back into their hands. With a loud, strangled yell from both, the Fives gritted their teeth and held tight. The current that was coursing through their bodies was being fueled and refueled by their continual release of power as it created an endless loop of electricity and pain.

“Hold…on...” Five instructed through a tightly clenched jaw. “Keep…going…”

As the other Five grunted with pain he hissed out, “I know…dipshit…just…shut up…”

“Fuck…you…” Five gasped in between clipped groans.

As they worked through the intense pain, they each kept their eyes focused on the watch between them on the table. The electrical current was passing through it, causing it to pulse with the same blue energy of their power. The longer they held on, though, the longer the pulses lasted. Finally, as they were both contemplating letting go before they really did fry off any crucial body parts, the glow became constant. The watch was now emitting its own bright blue light. With a slight nod to each other, the Fives let go of the cables, letting them drop to the ground as their bodies folded over, leaning heavily on the table with both hands. With harsh, loud breaths, they gradually worked through the pain and exhaustion of what they had just been through. After a minute, they glanced over at one another with a small, knowing smirk. Then Five looked down at the watch.

“I’ll be goddamned…I think it worked.”

The watch continued to glow blue, just as it had been when they were channeling their powers into it. This was a good sign, because it meant it had been fully charged and theoretically would not need any more pain-fueled jumps to get it going. That was all speculation, though. It would require a test drive to see if they had actually calibrated everything correctly.

With both of them still reeling from the pain and trying to catch their breath, they sat down and stared at the device. They were each thinking the same thing, because it was the only thing to think. Who was going to test it?

Each of them had been through the disastrous results of botched time travel in the past. It was something neither one of them wanted to experience again, but the choice was obvious.

“I’ll do it,” Five said simply.

His other self creased his eyebrows together and crossed his arms over his chest. “Why should you do it?”

“Well, if you can’t figure that out, you’re even dumber than I thought.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Five sighed heavily, running a hand down his face. He was just so damn tired and he needed a drink. But this had to come first. And it had to be him.

“Look, asshat, I’m not exactly thrilled about throwing myself blindly through the vacuum of space and time again. I’ve been doing it way too often lately, and each time I fuck something up. But it has to be me and I think you know that.”

The other Five huffed, pushing his hair off his face and tipping his head back with a sigh. Then he looked at Five and gave a small nod of understanding. He did know. There was no way he could risk the jump with an experimental time travel device. Not if there was even a chance of getting lost and leaving his kids and wife behind.

“Alright then,” Five said with a terse nod before standing up and grabbing the watch. He swallowed nervously, even just holding it in his hand. He knew how potentially sensitive these things could be, and it was possible any type of movement or disturbance to the workings inside could cause it, and him, to blip out of their current existence. “How far back or forward should I set it?”

“Just a few minutes. Start small.”

Five nodded again, hearing Reggie’s voice echoing in his head. “Keep the same timeline?”

“For right now, yes. Let’s not complicate things quite yet.”

Five adjusted a few dials to set the time and place, before removing his usual watch from his left wrist and replacing it with the time travel version. Even as hesitant as he was with it strapped to his wrist, Five still had to admit that they did a pretty damn good job of making it stylish. It would complement his suits nicely.

“Ready?” the other Five asked.

Five rolled his shoulders back and stretched his neck from side to side in preparation. “Ready,” he stated before pressing the small activation button on the side of the watch.

In one small burst of blue, Five disappeared. When he reappeared a millisecond later, he was still in the basement. This time, however, he found himself staring back at two versions of himself that were in the middle of an argument. Everyone stopped talking and stared at one another. “Shit, I think this means it works,” the smaller ‘other’ Five said, right before Five pressed the button again to return to his correct time.

Popping out of thin air, Five landed in the exact same spot he had been in when he left. With a quick check of his surroundings, he looked at his other self. “Did we do it?”

“I think so. You were gone for maybe a second. Did you make it to the right place and time?”

Five nodded. “It was right here just a few minutes ago, before we charged it. So, yeah…I think we did it.”

“Perfect!” the other version said with a smile.

“That was only one test. We should do a couple more to make sure we didn’t just get lucky. Plus we need to see if this thing stays charged.”

Both Fives knew that the worst thing to happen would be to find themselves stranded in the wrong time again, and with the watch having run out of power. It would be the same as when the briefcases went kaput. They’d be relying on their own powers and that was never a good thing.

“Ok, let me try a different setting. I’ll go a little further back and to a different place.”

He took a deep breath after he programmed the watch. “See ya,” he said with a wave before disappearing again.

When Five appeared out of the portal, he took a quick look around to assess the situation. He appeared to be in the right place. He had put in the coordinates for the Hotel Obsidian and he had found himself landing right in the main lobby. Luckily for him, the type of clientele that frequented that hotel didn’t even blink an eye when a teenage kid suddenly appeared in their midst out of nowhere. As Five faced the main doors of the hotel, he saw what he had hoped to see. His entire family, including himself, were trying to shove their way through the revolving door into the lobby, all while loudly arguing.

“Yes!” Five said to himself with a smile as he pressed the button on the watch before anyone could notice him. When he reappeared back in the basement, he let out a relieved sigh. “Ok, so far so good. There doesn’t seem to be any issue with the power strength and the coordinates seem correct.”

The other him nodded. “So, now what?”

Five let out a forceful breath of air through puffed cheeks. “Well, now comes the fun part. A bigger jump and a different timeline.”

“You sure about this?”

Five shook his head while setting the watch to the date and time he had in mind. He wasn’t sure why that particular date popped into his head, but it didn’t matter what it was, just as long as it was part of his original timeline. “Not really, no.”

When he was ready and the watch was programmed, he turned to his other self. “Listen, if this doesn’t work and I disappear, tell our family I’m sorry.”

The other Five nodded, knowing there was no use in giving optimistic words of encouragement. It was very possible this entire thing could fail. If so, Five would be lost and the kugelblitz would eventually wipe out the entire universe, including his wife and kids.

Five was gone in a zap of blue.

Reappearing on the other side of the portal, he felt the same wave of nausea pass over him that he used to have when he would make big jumps like this for the Commission. He closed his eyes for a moment to steady himself. Then he took a look around.

He was home. At least, the only real home he’d ever known, even if it was more like a boarding school than anything else. Standing in the large foyer of the Academy, Five checked the stained glass on the front door. Seeing the umbrella etched into the panes, he let out a quiet sigh. That was a good sign, but he still needed to confirm he was indeed in the right time and place.

Creeping quietly toward the living room, he heard voices coming from behind the sliding doors that separated it from the foyer. There was the sound of muffled laughter and Five could smell something delicious cooking in the kitchen.

“Baked ham,” Five whispered to himself before rolling his eyes at his own stupidity of talking out loud.

Taking a nervous look around, but not seeing anyone or hearing any approaching footsteps, Five pressed his ear to the door. The laughter was louder, and he could hear people talking, but he still couldn’t make out what they were saying. He knew it was a big risk, but his curiosity got the better of him and he cracked the door just a tiny bit to peer inside.

They were all there. His entire family, including Ben and himself, were gathered together, playing some sort of board game. Because Five had programmed the exact date and time, he knew they were all eight years old and it was a Saturday. Reginald had gone out for the evening, and Pogo had decided the kids could stand to use more than one hour of play time that day. So, he had asked Grace to make an extra special dinner of their favorite ham and potatoes, with chocolate cake for dessert. While she was preparing it in the kitchen, the siblings celebrated their precious freedom together.

Five smiled to himself while he watched his family playing and getting along. It was one of his better memories of his childhood. They were still young and hadn’t been competitive with each other yet. Training was still fun and the idea of being debuted as the Umbrella Academy for all the world to see was exciting.

Diego and Luther were arguing, of course, but it was more of the normal sibling arguing you would expect, and not the kind where you try and kill one another. Allison was trying to get everyone’s attention to explain the rules of the board game, but no one was listening to her. Five’s young self and Ben were sitting on one of the couches behind her, throwing little pieces of balled up paper into her hair and laughing hysterically behind their hands.

Klaus and Viktor sat dutifully in front of the table with the game, trying to listen to the rules as obediently as possible. That is, until Klaus took one of the playing pieces and stuck it up his nose, making Viktor laugh and Allison annoyed.

“You guys!” she started to protest, but when she saw Klaus take another piece and try to balance it on his head, she started cracking up. “Oh, forget it,” she said with a giggle, picking a piece of paper out of her long curly hair. She turned to Ben and Five who were doing a very poor job of looking innocent. Allison stuck her tongue out and flicked the paper back at them, hitting Five in the nose.

“Alright, children, time to eat!” their mother cheerfully announced from the dining room.

Five watched his little self spring off the couch, pushing Ben down in the process, and laughing. “Yes! I’m starving! I call the biggest slice of cake!”

“No way, Five! I do!” Luther argued as he trotted after his smaller brother.

“I’ll let you have it if you can catch me,” Five teased, just before flashing his bigger brother a haughty smile and blinking away.

The kids eventually made their way into the dining room where they were out of Five’s sight. He closed the door again and pressed his forehead against it, closing his eyes. The urge to burst in there and warn his innocent, younger self about everything that was going to happen was so strong he could feel his heart pounding wildly in his chest and pulsing in his ears. He wanted to grab him by the shoulders and look him in the eyes. He wanted to tell him not to time travel, even if he thought he was ready. Listen to Reggie. You really will be starving. And you’ll be alone. For so, so long…you’ll be alone.

The internal battle waged on as Five felt the tightening in his chest again and the breaths that wouldn’t come. Black spots began forming behind his eyelids.

He needed a drink. Maybe he could slip inside while they were at the dinner table and steal a bottle of Reginald’s booze. Then maybe he could think straight. No…no, he just needed to breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

Five, are you ok? You need to get out of here. The experiment worked, you just need to get back now.

I know, Dolores, but what if I can save him? Save me?

Five pressed his forehead harder against the door frame. He was panicking and frozen stiff. He needed to get out of there before someone saw him. Or before his little eight-year old self started experiencing psychosis symptoms.

You can do this, Five. Just open your eyes and move.

I can’t…I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I can’t.

Yes, you can Five…you know you can. You just don’t want to.

As usual, the Dolores inside his head was right. He wanted to stay. God, he wanted to stay there so badly. Despite all of its tortures, the Academy was his home. It was warm and filled with delicious smells from his mother’s cooking. His siblings were there; healthy and alive. His warm, cozy bed was waiting for him upstairs.

Five was certain that if he just waltzed into the kitchen right now, Grace would kiss his forehead and smooth his hair before insisting that he sit down at the table while she made him a plate of food. She would smile and ask where he’d been. When was the last time he was comforted like that? When was the last time anyone cared that much about him?

Your siblings care, Five. You heard them talking about you. They love you.

No, they just think I’m an asshole. They need me to get back to their lives, but they don’t really care.

That’s not true, Five. You know it’s not.

“Stop it stop it stop it stop it,” Five whispered to himself. “Move, stupid. You need to move.”

Nothing you can do will change anything, Five. What has happened has happened. You left your home at thirteen. You got lost in an apocalyptic world all by yourself. You became an old man and an assassin. You tried to save the world. All of these things already happened to you. And there’s nothing you can do to change that.

And just like that, Five snapped out of it. He opened his eyes, lifted his head, and took in his surroundings again. He was still alone. He could still hear his younger self and his siblings in the other room. But it didn’t matter. What was done was done. He could travel years into the past or decades into the future. He could jump a million timelines. But nothing would ever change his past.

The best he could do now was to make sure the future was just a little bit better for him and for his family. So, with a heavy heart, and what felt like a ball of lead in his stomach, Five reluctantly pressed the activation button on his watch. The Academy would never be his home again, and he had to accept that.

“You ok?” his doppelganger asked when he appeared back in the basement.

Five was breathing hard and raggedly, still reeling on his feet. He nodded and clutched the side of the table. “Yeah. Just some lasting symptoms of time travel. It will pass shortly.”

“And it all worked correctly?”

Five nodded again. “Yes.”

The other Five clapped his hands together with determination. “Great! We can get to work on building the second watch, then.” He looked at Five with concern. “Are you sure you’re ok?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Can I just…can you get me a drink? I need one before we start again.”

His older-looking self looked dubious for a second, and then he nodded. “Yeah, sure. You want whiskey?”

“I don’t care. Anything.”

“Alright. I’ll get you one drink, but that’s it.”

“Sure, whatever,” Five sighed as he sat heavily down in one of the chairs.

As the other Five left to go get the drink, Five rested his elbows on his knees and put his face in his hands. He needed to pull himself together. He couldn’t crack up now, he needed to concentrate. The tears were starting to form behind his closed lids, but he squeezed his eyes tighter so they would stay there. When he heard the footsteps coming back down the stairs, he wiped his face quickly and straightened up, smoothing down his clothes and combing his hair back into place with his fingers.

“Here,” his other self said as he handed him a tumbler of whiskey.

Five took a small sip and he immediately started to feel better. “Thanks.” He took another, longer drink, and then set the glass on the table before standing up. “Alright, we’re not done. Let’s get to work.”

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