#[not included here are points such as he's missing a leg and the scarring and why he was mostly false primed for ages]

[the-leyline-directory]

Have my current small collection of Aramis sketches. I'll have his blog up in a little bit to be sure but short rundown;

FF16 OC, Aramis Dantes, Dominant of the Lesser Eikon Nidhogg 'Shadow of Bahamut, Sleeping Guardian of Saint Graegor' ;; Once a Dragoon, now excommunicated due to Anabella's lies and then handed to Waloed for peaceful promises. (To the public the lies continued as his 'defection' and 'betrayal'). Spent a few years within Balmung Dark, until uncontrolled priming and escaping. The next handful of years were spent making it back to Storm, learning about his status as a convicted felon and wanted villain, being violently hands on about freeing bearers from servitude, and being a 'terrorist' to Anabella in any way he could. It's not until after the start of the narrative that he properly gives Cid a chance and begins visiting the Hideaway.

Sidenote; It's a bit more complicated than that, and his lore is tied with another character owned by my wife who assists to ground his motivations, and the status of his Eikon does not effect the story narrative and I'll explain that more on his pages as it has spoiler context. --- secondary note is that while Aramis is the Dominant of ‘Nidhogg’; this is not based on the FF14 Characterization, and more accurate to say he is formed around ‘Níðhöggr’ the original Norse mythology and such traits are evident.

[bitchlessdino]

scream your heart out (m)

🔪pairing: fem!reader x seventeen (???) 🔪genre: horror, slasher, smut 🔪tags: DISCLAIMIER!!! MAY NOT SUIT MOST AUDIENCES, Graphic sexual and violent imagery color coded in pink, abrupt changes in text color, features/mentions members (Chan, Seungkwan, Wonwoo, Minghao, Seungcheol, Seokmin, Junhui, Soonyoung, Joshua), established relationships, scream au!seventeen, Hybristophilia, erotophonophilia, homicidophilia, graphic images, mention panic attacks, smoking, mentions disfigurement of faces, severed body parts, knives, guns, threatening phone calls, face masks (horror), knife wielding, blood, gore, death/murder, knife play, bloody handjobs, cum mixing with blood, consensual sex but nonconsensual murder, HONESTLY SOME REALLY FUCKED UP SHIT AND IM SORRY BUT YALL SHOULD BE READING THE WARNINGS, sexual innuendos, kitchen sex, daddy kink, unprotected sex, cream pies, cuck! (??) member, voyeurism, exhibitionism, breeding kink, PLS LET ME KNOW IF IM MISSING ANYTHING PLS 🔪word count: 6.8k 🔪summary: you and your friends get caught up in a classic horror slasher movie, only it's in real life. Now you're off to fend for yourselves in Seungcheol's million dollar home. The question is, did you keep them out, or did you just lock them in? 🔪author note: thank you @multi-kpop-fanfics and @wonwussy for beta reading for me <3. here's some of their notes “I’m scratching my face to not fucking scream” “WELL SHIT BRO WHAT THE FUCK” -Zeta “It definitely does capture that slasher essence” -SJ this was so fun yet mind numbing to write but this is way more extreme than anything I’ve ever written like I lost a lot of sanity writing this. FR one of the most fucked up things I’ve ever written. I hope it was worth it. ENJOY EVERYONE and even tho it came out late HAPPY HALLOWEEN

Ever since the murders over a week ago, everyone in town has been on edge. All including the individuals most closely involved.

You had lost three core members of your eight. 

Joshua, someone you’ve known since grade school who was sliced open from the back before being stabbed 8 times to the point of excessive bleeding. He had just gone out to walk his dog, the poor creature being the only reason they found his body at all. If not for the dog’s bloody paws, and the trail of blood they left behind finding help, Joshua’s cadaver would’ve lost deep in the woods.

And then Chan, your long-time boyfriend, was stabbed fifteen times in the chest. His face was so disfigured from obvious violence and what looked to be burn scars, that he was practically unrecognizable if not for the fact he died in his own home. Police are still looking for his severed arms and legs to this day with no luck.

And finally, Seungkwan, who hadn’t died but lost to the paranoia festering in his blood like a disease. That caused him to take the train to the furthest destination possible to attempt to escape death if at all possible, leaving the rest of you with only the reassuring texts he left in his wake.

All that was left was you, Seokmin, Seungcheol, Minghao, and Wonwoo; the core five.

“Okay, absolutely no one is leaving this house for the time being. Until the psycho is caught behind bars, dead, or whatever the fuck! We’re safe here.”

Seungcheol, the eldest, did just as expected: contacted the rest of you into a personal prison. Luckily, he was loaded. The prison happened to be six thousand square feet of space with countless rooms, amenities, and a housekeeper to boot. From the looks of it, it’s paradise, but it’s definitely a prison.

“Holy shit, you have an indoor basketball court?”

A prison with an indoor basketball court. And a pool apparently.

Seokmin wasted no time to enjoy these features, breaking out of his clothes and cannonballing in his underwear. If you knew any better, Seokmin didn’t even look like he went through any trauma at all. It looked like every other day for him.

“There's a murderer and you’re doing butterfly strokes?�� You asked, baffled.

The golden man scoffed, reaching the edge of the pool and resting against it with his forearms. “What am I gonna do? Wallow, crying to my mom, worrying about dying, and not taking advantage of this gorgeous mansion we’re staying in?”

“Thank you, Seokmin,” Seungcheol grinned.

Seokmin winked back at him, “Of course, daddy.”

“How are you both so unserious about all this?”

Wonwoo left a kind hand against your shoulder, looking back at you with warm eyes and a small smile. “They’re grieving. Just in their own way.”

You sighed, crossing your arms. “They’re being ridiculous. We shouldn’t be here. We need to be at the police station or something.”

“You were there when I got the call. The creepy voice said no police or you all die. Remember?”

You shuddered, hands over your sides to relieve your chilled skin. “Of course I do, but we’re sitting ducks here. This isn’t any better. We need protection.”

It was Seungcheol’s turn to scoff then. He strutted in front of you, flaunting his wing span before flexing his arms and then crossing them over his chest. “Well, you have me.”

“And me,” Seokmin joined. “Pure muscle right here.”

“Maybe pure laughing gas, not sure about muscle. We’re actually living in a horror movie right now and you’re all making jokes.”

“Hey,” Wonwoo stroked your head as his soothingly deep voice serenaded you, “Don’t say that. We’ll make it out of here.”

His arms come around you, forearms pressed against your collarbones, and his chin crooked over your shoulder. “You have me too. I would run through that knife before it could get to you.”

You genuinely smile for the first time being there, your hand stroking over his embrace. Wonwoo delicately kissed the temple of your forehead, reminding you what it was like to be constantly adored.

You were grateful for what he had become in your life. Wonwoo had kept you company in your time of need. In the absence of Chan. He had come to your house with whatever he thought you might need, lent you his shoulder that you could cry on, lent his ears so that he could listen, lent his body that you could heal. In more ways than one.

“You’re right. You are.” You turned to face him, wrapping your arms around his body and meeting his eyes framed in specs of hard plastic. “You’re the first person I can sacrifice if we face them head to head.”

He mused at you. “Ooh, now look who’s pulling jokes.”

“Who said I was joking?”

“You two are disgustingly cute,” Minghao commented coming through the back door. “Horror movie rules: they get killed while having sex.”

You punched the new face right in the arm, watching him scurry away to your other friends laughing.

“Not funny, Hao.”

Minghao sneers at you, a jester smile still on his face. “Ease up, princess. Wonwoo, watch your girl.”

“Only because she’s so pretty to look at,” he briefly grinned down at you before directing his attention to Minghao sternly, “but come on. We’re all a little psyched right now. Cool it with the murder talk. Alright?”

Wonwoo pulled you aside into the dining area, ignoring the careless laughter outside. His thumb stroked against your knuckles, lips pressing sweetly against your cheeks. His grin sunk deeper in his cheeks the further he made it past your jaw and then down your neck. He felt your throat vibrate against his lips. “Wonwoo…”

“I can’t have all these guys get you heated like this. That’s my job,” he teased with a rasp.

You slightly pushed him off, your arms swung over his shoulders. “You’re so ridiculous right now.”

“Anything to put that smile on your face.”

His lips reconnected with your neck, nipping at your skin. His humming sent tingles down your spine, and he took your body to press you against the side of the counter. Your hands grasped his baggy shirt, lip close to his ear, fanning your breath against his face. You smiled like a girl in love. Obsessed.  “Daddy…”

“I love it when you call me that,” he mumbled, just as love-struck, if not more. Your giggles brought out the pink on Wonwoo’s ears and cheeks while tightening the groin of his pants. You noticed immediately, cupping it in your palm, and running your finger along the seam. Your eyes skimmed over his taken expression, leaning your full weight into him. “I know there’s something else you really love.”

“Do you now?”

You nodded, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. “But do you really want to do it here? Risk getting caught?”

He leaned into your touch, allowing your fingers to take apart his pants. “Try new things right? Like you always say. Plus you’re scared. Gonna turn that fear into pleasure. Make you feel good, just what my baby deserves.”

“You're so good to me, Daddy,” you moaned.

His hand finds the hem of your shorts, pulling them down to expose yourself to the cold air. He fingered through your panties and slid two digits through your folds. He felt your breath hitch as he squeezed your clit, eliciting your soft whines. “You’re so wet down there, baby.”

“Just waiting for daddy to fuck me where anyone can find us and watch.”

Wonwoo eagerly pulled down his pants, kicking them and yours aside, but not without pocketing your underwear. He lifted you up slightly from the ground, his exposed cock hitting at your hip. “Look what you do to me.”

Your throat went dry at the sight of him, hand aching to wrap your hand around his girth and have him shoved inside you.

He didn’t let you wait a second long, and pushed in slowly inch by inch, burying himself in your pussy until he was nearly balls deep. You grasped his shoulder in a gasp, savoring the fire burning in your stomach. The girth of his cock stretched your molten walls, allowing them to melt all around his cock as he spread your legs. You writhe in his embrace, your limbs closing around his lean and toned build, already blissful from the few seconds of him being inside you.

Wonwoo’s words kissed your lips, flushed your skin, and left a permanent smile on your face. It swelled pride in his chest, better than any physical trophy would have. His hips slowly rolled against yours, letting you adjust to his size. He massaged the flesh of your side through his fingers, mentally reassuring himself you were his and his alone, but his names on your lips became more than proof.

Your hips buckled towards him in heat, matching his pace before the carnal side of him decided to fuck you like an animal. His cock then plunged sharply inside you, and then again, a whimper coming out of your lips. Your hips stuttered the harder he pounded, arching your back, you felt his hand above your ass, pushing you against him.

“Daddy…”

He lost control when it came to you, addicted—religious—the second your body came in contact with his. He loved how your fingers ran through his hair, not caring how his glasses fell off his face in the process. With drool out of the corner of his lips, he could feel the blood rush up to the surface of your skin, making him feel warm at home inside you. Throbbing, he only got harder feeling how perfectly snug you were, pricking his clammy skin with goosebumps as he bottomed out.

“You’re sopping, precious,” he murmured with a sly grin.

He had you begging, flustered, and beautiful. Your hand clasped his face as your other arm looped around his neck, swallowing his lips, anxious and thirsty for his breath. You craved every part of him viscerally. “Cum in me, daddy. Please…”

He scoffed, lips ghosting over yours. “Will you take every bit of daddy’s cum, hmm? Hold my cum inside you.”

You nodded gingerly. “Yes, yes. I promise, daddy. Give it to me please, I want you to spill your cum inside me and make me yours…”

“Hold on to me.”

You obliged, met with the hot stream of his climax, yours quick to follow. He embraced your sides, devouring your lips and muffling your whines. His loads pumped into you in erratic thrusts, fucking his cum back into you and making sure you drained him of every ounce. His fingers dug into your flesh, feeling you just come apart for him, undoing the tension that festered earlier.

But that tension was needed. It was necessary to survive. Everyone let themselves forget the current predicament, basking in the glow of the sunset until dinner time arrived. Despite the housekeeper that supposedly exists, she hadn’t been around since all of you stepped foot in the house, like a ghost presence. Seungcheol scrambled to find her—reminding you of his peculiar obsession with the woman—as he wondered when dinner would be ready since a rise in temperature or a savory scent couldn’t be found in the kitchen.

“That’s strange. She’d be finished with a whole chicken by now,” the homeowner commented, noticeably picking his nails.

“Aww,” Seokmin groaned, “Well, is there anything else to eat?”

“I mean…you can look around.”

You narrowed your eyes at him in disbelief. “This is your house. You don’t know what you have in your own house?”

“You try navigating a five-story home with countless cabinets!”

“Buy a smaller house, you prick!”

“Guys!” Minghao chimed in. “Breathe in…and out. We’ll just find food. Seungcheol, your maid, your house, your search. She’s probably fine.”

Your hands slammed against those pristine marble counters. “We are NOT splitting up right now. This is what the killer wants. She’s probably already dead and we’re fucked.”

Wonwoo came to your side, laying a cool calm over your shoulder, and rubbed your sides. You let yourself melt in his touch, his sweet voice soothing you effectively. 

Seokmin sat up from his stool, “Okay, okay. I will help Seungcheol and you guys stick together.”

“That’s still splitting up!”

“Better than alone.” Seungcheol rebutted. “You guys stay.”

Despite your protests, they went on their search. Your head banged against Wonwoo’s chest, muttering in anguish about how everything was going wrong and that it’d only get worse. Meanwhile, Minghao seemed to regain some of that tension but masked the fear with the bright light of his phone, scrolling through TikTok. You didn’t know what was more annoying, sensation of imminent death possibly behind any door, or the same five songs replaying on Minghao’s feed.

After 15 minutes when they were nowhere to be seen, your patience had run thin. You picked yourself up from Wonwoo’s lap and dusted yourself off. “Fuck this. We’re finding them.”

You felt his hand on your shoulder, a concerned glow in his gaze. “Babe, hey. They’ve got it. Trust them.”

“Wonwoo, you know I can’t do that. Let’s just find them, hmm? Together?”

“Not a bad idea,” Minghao agreed. “Better in groups right? We go together, eliminate us as any potential suspects.”

Your boyfriend sighed, collected your hand, and laced his fingers through yours. “Fine.”

You were all joined together by the hip, making sure you were each other's sights. Through the wider than wingspan hallways, past the ridiculously expensive sculptures, you kept your eyes out for your estranged friends. Silence couldn’t have been more loud in these cavernous spaces, only hearing the gut feelings in your stomachs that’s churned in trepidation. Every step taken was the group closing in on the killer. 

Fortitude meant nothing if the danger was already inside.

Before turning around the corner, Minghao—reluctant to lead the group—crashed into a human-sized obstacle, causing the stumble of your entire party. You all faced a wide-eyed Seungcheol with the missing young housekeeper walking hand in hand with him. Suspicious, but besides the point.

“Holy shit, we said we’d come back!”

“It’s been 20 minutes, Cheol! You guys could’ve been dead for all we know.” You retorted.

“Wait, where’s Seokmin?” Wonwoo asked, noticing he didn’t see him nearby.

“He went ahead. He needed to piss or something and meet up later.”

“You idiot.” Your eyes burned a frustrated rage. “I said don't split up. DON’T SPLIT UP! That’s the number one rule of horror movies. You’re going get us fucking killed. He could be the murderer for all we know.”

Seungcheol scoffed, shaking his head. “Seokmin? No way. He’s the last person to even think to do that.”

“Well, do you see him? No! Probably he’s off someone being Ghostface reject with his stupid little voice modulator and cheap party city costume.”

“I told you—“ Before he could finish, his phone went off in the nick of time. When he pulled it out to saw Seokmin’s caller ID on display and the owner of the device wouldn’t help but smile. “See the bastard is even calling.”

He picked up and put him on speaker, eyeing you cheekily, amped to prove you wrong. “Seok, you little shit. How long does it take to piss, huh? Just say you wanted to take a dump.”

“Oh yeah, I took the shittiest, stinkiest, fattest dump. You could probably smell all the way from the other end of the hall.”

Instead of Seokmin on the other line, all of you were met with the eerie voice that had called you multiple times before. The voice that felt like spiders crawling up your legs. The voice that had you second guess whether you locked the front and the back door. The voice whose owner had killed countless people already. 

Seungcheol held the phone in a vice grip swallowing, fear stilling in his unsteady eyes. “You—Where the fuck is Seokmin, you son of a bitch?”

The morphed voice on the other end laughed, sounding bone chilling as nails against a blackboard. “What’s to say? Why don’t we play a little game to find out?”

“Mother fu—“You grabbed the phone from Seungcheol to answer in his place, cutting the older man off. “Why go through with this?”

“Why, I just want to help you find your beloved friend. All out of the kindness of my heart.”

“If it was all kindness, you could tell us where he is.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Psycho,” Minghao muttered under his breath, eyes wide in shock and fear, as if registering the idea of death for the first time.

“And if we refuse?” Wonwoo interjected.

“Seokmin dies, rock for brains,” Seungcheol gritted.

“Ding, ding, ding. Or should I say, chop, chop, chop, since that’s what'll happen if you get any of my questions wrong.”

You scoffed, coming down the stairs with your friends to follow. “Have at it then, you freak.”

“Hey, hey, play nice. Maybe I’ll get too excited and decide to cut him up early.”

Seungcheol glared at you briefly before taking back the phone, storming down the stairs, and reaching the ground floor. “Ask away, as long as Seokmin is safe.”

“First an easy one. What’s your favorite scary movie, Seungcheol?”

His feet stopped at the end of the couch in his living room, stammering to answer. “What kind of fucking question—uh, The Ring?”

“Don’t lie to your friends, Seungcheol. You know that’s not the answer, that’s just what you say to anyone that asks. Say the real answer.”

“That’s the movie though!” he started to shout, visibly shaking.

“Just say it, Cheol!” Minghao pushed.

“Stop playing around Choi Seungcheol! Just say it,” You joined.

“Fine!” He faced the friends, evidently swallowing his pride as he choked up on his answer. “I never watched a goddamn scary movie! Is that what you want to hear? I get panic attacks every time I hear one in the background, why do you I’m always going off smoking when you guys put one on,” he confessed through his tears.

“Congratulations. Your first right answer. Now was that so hard? Pussy boy?”

“Fuck you,” Seungcheol sputtered, tossing the phone back to you.

“Next question. ‘The Texas Chainsaw Massacre,’ Leatherface is known for wearing a mask when it was in fact several. How many and what were they in the original movie?”

“Who the fuck would know an answer like that?” Minghao croaked in disbelief.

“Three. A ‘Killing Mask’, an ‘Old Lady Mask’ and a ‘Pretty Woman Mask.’” Wonwoo calmly answers, garnering horrified looks all around. “I wanted to be a filmmaker, remember?”

“Correct. Next question. What Was Freddy Krueger's serial killer nickname before he died?”

“It’s on the tip of my tongue,” you said slightly panicked, “Wonwoo?”

“The Springwood slasher.”

“Wow, Another amazingly correct answer. Hold on to that one, Y/n. He’s a keeper. He’s smart and fucks your brains out to the point of you screaming bloody murder? What a catch.”

You didn’t respond, impatience seething on the tip of your tongue, “Just tell us where this is all going.”

“Patience, sweetheart. Last question. What exact kind of knife does Ghostface use in the Stab movies? Here’s a hint: it’s the same one I’m holding in my hand against Seokmin’s throat. (Help me please...)”

“S-Seok.” Seungcheol gasped.

Seokmin’s voice could barely be heard on the other end, weak and afraid, only staggering breaths audible.

“Wonwoo, please,” Seungcheol begged, tears falling past his neck. “He’s our best friend.”

Wonwoo swallowed, gears visibly creaking in his head, “I know he uses a hunting knife, b-but—“

“Oh…” the voice cooed, “Well, that’s just not enough, is it? Seokminnie, say goodbye to your friends (Please, no…).”

“Seokmin!”

“Wait!” You barged, clutching the phone to the point of it almost bending. “A modified Buck 120. I remember now. It’s coming back to me. Now, let Seokmin go!”

The line went dead and in turn, light cast in the evening darkness of the poolside. All your eyes shot back at the change of light, startled at the sight in front of them. Seokmin was seated in a chair, bruises against his sides, bleeding from the splices on his forearms, and duct tape over his mouth. Yet the most frightening part was his closed eyes.

“Seokmin!”

You all rushed towards him, swinging the porch door in a panic. Seungcheol tried slapping him awake, pleading he’d be alive. “Seokmin please, please, wake up…

The poor victim's eyes start to flicker open, mumbling through the adhesive over his lips.

“Buddy,” Seungcheol ripped the duct tape clean off him, his ear coming up to his friend’s lips. “Speak to me…”

Seokmin’s voice came out in croaks, hardly incoherently, all except, “Be…hind…”

Minghao spat up blood, doubled over as Ghostface was revealed right behind him, and fell right into the pool. You and the housekeeper both let out a blood-curdling scream. The masked intruder wiped off the blood using his black rope, anticipating a lunge towards their next victim. 

“Run,” Wonwoo breathed out. 

He took your hand and ran with it. Taking a second to look back, you see Seungcheol and the housekeeper try to escape similarly before she was tugged right back towards the killer and she was stabbed right in front of him five times, each one faster than the last, having the poor Seungcheol paralyzed and fallen on his knees. The sounds of suffering were loud enough to hear throughout the neighborhood.

Wonwoo dragged you back upstairs, his survival instinct telling him to seek haven high and far up the house. 

“You left them there to die,” You proclaimed.

“He said he could manage it. You’re more important.”

“You actually believe that? Ghostface snuck up on Minghao with neither of us looking!”

“We’re going to have to. Secungcheol can handle himself.”

Finally, he finds the room, closing the door behind him and pushing heavy furniture in front of it for more time to stall. “We’ll be ok for a little bit here. Let’s look for weapons.”

He started rummaging through drawers, looking for anything strap, blunt, heavy, anything worth using. He was red in the face, sweat drenching his entire body. The only thing running through his mind was keeping you, the most important person in his life, safe. 

“Wonwoo, I don’t know if we’re going to find anything. Fuck. I’m so scared right now.”

He recognized the panic in your eyes, the bounce in your step, and the quiver in your voice. “Hey, hey, baby. Look at me.” He grasped your face in his hands, wiping your tears away with his thumb. 

“I’m here, hmm.” He kissed your closed eyes. “You’re alright.”

Then your tempered cheeks. “We’ll get through this.”

The tip of your nose. “I love you like hell.” 

Finally your trembling lips. “I’ll keep you alive.”

“Promise?” You managed to breathe out.

“Scouts honor.”

The banging resonated from outside the locked door, only getting louder and closer every passing second as if teasing you to death. You shook in Wonwoo’s embrace, burying your face in his chest. “I don’t want to die here, baby.”

“You won’t. Not with me.” One arm wrapped around your body, and another had his fingers locked around the base of a lamp, tugging it from the outlet. Pitch darkness joined you, only having to rely on the dim-lit sky through the peek of the windows.

Whomever on the other side cracked through the wood of the door, breaking it piece by piece as it fell to the ground, knocking over the dresser that blocked 

“Shit, shit, shit.” Wonwoo pushed you behind him.

Finally, your barrier came down with a final kick, rendering it useless. Wonwoo let out a battle cry, charging at them with the lamp above his head. He swung his weapon while Ghostface swung theirs, both missing simultaneously. Gritting his teeth, Wonwoo pulled forward, aiming for the head.

They crash against the wall in the process, but not without mutilating the midsection of Wonwoo’s stomach. The visually impaired man fell back to the ground, groaning in agony as he clutched his stomach, while blood trickled through his fingers. “Mother fucker...”

Wonwoo’s vision started to fight against him with the loss of his glasses, dimming images before him, and slowly processing the murderous figure trodding before him. Wonwoo’s determination picked him right back up slowly, picking up his lamp once again, trying to take another move toward the perpetrator. And by pure luck, the lamp crashed against the crown of their head.

Ghostface stumbled back, quick to recover but visibly agitated.  Soon enough, they plunged the full length of the knife right into Wonwoo’s gut, sticking it deep and long before kicking him off of it. Wonwoo lands on the hardwood, blood gushing out of him like a public water fountain. “Fuck, fuck!”

“Wonwoo!” You come by his side, clutching at his wound desperately. “No, no, no.”

The sinister figure approached once more, hand creeping against the edge before he pulled it over and off his head. His eyes stared back at you both maniacally. His grin stretched from both ends freakishly before overtaking in deep chuckles. “Happy to see me?”

“…C-Chan?” Wonwoo managed to gasp.

“Hi, bestie.” His signature smile, once warm and inviting, reflected horrifyingly as if out of a film, one with too much bloodshed and betrayal to imagine. “Well, didn’t think you’d see me again, huh?”

“Chan, what the fuck?” You screeched. 

“You’re supposed to be dead.” Wonwoo voiced panic-stricken. “What, how?”

One foot over the other, Chan carried himself with conviction, ease, and the confidence of a man who slaughtered countless amounts of people. 

“You guys don't know how easy it is to fake my death. I was surprised by how incredibly stupid police officers are. Find a body that’s my height, my build, cut off their hands and arms to not get their fingerprints, singe their skin and face to the point of unrecognition, and plant them in your own home. I’m a fucking genius.”

“S-Seungkwan,” Wonwoo wept, his adam’s apple, “You actually—”

“It was beautiful. Masterful.”

“Why?” Wonwoo stammered. “Your best friend—“

“He was an imbecile. Weak. All bark and no bite. You will never understand how good it felt to stick the knife inside him and watch the blood burst off of him like a sprinkler. Like the knife going in and out of him surged power throughout my entire body. So, I kept doing it. And doing it. And doing it. And doing it. And doing it. And doing it. And doing it. AND DOING IT.”

His smile. That violating smile.

You sobbed, covering Wonwoo’s wound with your hands. “Y-you monster.”

“This was all just fun for you?” Wonwoo bared his teeth. “You get your kicks from lying, deceiving, stabbing your friends? You think you’re some Billy Loomis?”

“Of course I have fun. I had lots of fun. We had so much fucking fun.”

“We?” Wonwoo repeated.

“What the fuck do you mean we?” You asked horrified.

Chan started to chuckle to himself, chest heaving exuberantly before he stood completely still. Dreadfully still. 

“Well, I'm not the one that killed Joshua, am I?”

A million guesses ran through Wonwoo’s brain. None made sense the more he thought about it. “Your Stu Macher? Seokmin…Seungcheol…?”

Your eyes turned to him fearful, before it melted into something else, something familiar. Something terrifying. “No…” your lips drew close to his ear. “Me…” 

Your hands squeezed around his wound, gripping, earning his moans of anguish, screaming at you to stop, before you retrieved the knife hidden behind your boot and drove it into his shoulder. Wonwoo let out the loudest scream he could ever muster, feeling the blade sharply cut his nerve whilst pain shot into his chest. He tapped his heel incessantly on the ground, tears streaming from his eyes, looking at you in disbelief, overcome with hurt.

“And he was a good fuck too until the knife I put through his back made him scream like a little bitch.”

You pulled out the knife from him, seeing how the pain he felt in his body only complimented the suffering pooling in his heart, his mind, his soul. His lips quivered in your direction, sucking in his breath. “Y/n…Why?”

You simply shrugged. “Why does anyone kill these days? They’re bored, daddy. Same reason why things can change in the bedroom, to spice things up. The flavor of life is murder now, darling.”

“You’re killing people.”

You drove the knife one more time into his thigh, savoring his scream of agony. “And we’re more alive than we ever have been,” you said, twisting the knife before pulling it out.

You walked toward Chan, helping him pull off his robe. “And so is our sex life.”

“So, Junhui, Soonyoung…Joshua, and even Seungkwan.” Wonwoo asked, catching his breath.

“Every. single. one,” You chuckled. “Draining their cum out of like having a second puberty until life is literally drained out of their bodies. What a bunch of pussy boys. So obsessed with sex, they didn’t see the knife coming their way.”

Your hand reached for the ottoman and pushed Chan there to be seated, underdressed in the black tank top and black jeans he hid underneath with his momentarily abandoned bloody knife at his side. You unbuckled his pants single-handedly, your knife still in your other hand. “And Chan just gets so fucking hard with all the bloodshed. Like a bloodthirsty animal.”

“You just look so fucking sexy with blood on your hands,” Chan moaned, “Touch me how I like it, baby.”

“Mmh, my pleasure.” Your hand used the blood covering it as a morbid form of lube, closing around the girth of his cock to squeeze and lightly stroking it from base to tip, softly thumbing over the small slit on top. 

His stomach flexed, bucking his hips in your direction as he bit down on his bottom lip, beaming like a child on Christmas. Horny for your touch, Chan couldn’t help but squirm in his seat, warning up to your touch. He was absolutely growing at a rapid pace. “Like that baby, like that.”

“That feel good, daddy? You like how the blood is covering your entire cock? Seokmin’s blood, Minghao’s blood, Seungcheol’s blood? Wonwoo’s blood?”

“Fuck. Yes.”

“You two,” Wonwoo’s shock couldn’t stagger from the scene in front of him, unable to process all this information at once.

“You’re massaging our friends into my cock so good, baby.”

“Yeah?” You traced your fingers over the details of his shaft, your nails prodding at the veins as your hand slowly picked up pace. You rolled him in your fist, letting him rut in your defiled hand as he moaned your name like an animal in heat. “I’m getting so wet watching fuck in my hand covered in blood. You’re just a sick lunatic obsessed with killing your friends and fucking my sweet pussy. I love that about you, Daddy.”

“Fuck,” he screamed, hands gripping the ottoman in restraint, brimming with passion, “Wanna mix Wonwoo’s cum you kept inside you with the blood. Sit that sweet pussy on my cock for me, lover.”

You nodded invitingly, not missing a beat. You never did replace the underwear from before, making it easy to remove your shorts and sliding him inside your warm walls, massaging his length as you rolled your hips against his. You held the knife you still had in a death grip, stabling against the reliability of Chan’s shoulders. You mumble his name pleased, arching your back as you grinded down on his lap. “Your cock feels so good covered in blood, daddy.” 

“Your pussy feels even better knowing how much fun you had stabbing Wonwoo for me.”

“Of course, daddy.” You turned to the body mutilated and defenseless on the ground, grinning as Wonwoo was forced to watch. “That look good, Daddy Wonwoo?” Your ass bounced purposely in Chan’s lap, the jiggle showing off the splatter of blood left from the handjob.

Everything in Wonwoo told him to look away but he couldn’t, like a train wreck or a car crash, he couldn’t part with the mess of a situation he was witnessing. He wasn't sure what this meant for him, mentally nor physically.

“You like watching Chan fuck me, Daddy? His bloody dirty cock fucking me like you did a hour ago, fucking me like a nasty little whore.”

He hissed through his teeth, right the strange feeling surging in his pain-stricken body, “Shut…the fuck up.”

You laughed obnoxiously. “You love it. You love being a little cuck, watching other guys fuck my pussy. As if you hadn’t peeped on me and Chan fucking when he wasn’t ‘dead’.”

“It’s not true, you bitch.” The twitch in his trousers told him otherwise.

“You’re such a liar a dirty, dirty liar like I’m a dirty, dirty fucking whore.” You groaned loudly taking Chan’s cock, bouncing against his lap as you felt him pulse around your walls.

“That’s right baby take my cock.” Chan’s hand came over your bare cheeks, striking them with his full palms while his hips jerked up your body. “Taking the murder fueled, hard fucking cock.”

“Daddy, your cock is making me so fucking wet, stretching my pussy the way you sliced open our friends,” You growled.

“Fuck you’re such a little succubus, baby. Bouncing on my cock, coating yourself in blood. And I’ll kill more and more for you. I’ll do anything for you.”

“Yeah,” You began slowing your pace, drinking in his every word. “You’d do anything for me?”

“I’d kill the entire human population for you.”

That left you smiling from ear to ear, the tension coiling in your stomach. Your chest pressed against his, pushing against his thrusts. “Yeah? Would you cum in me, Daddy? Mix our dirty mess inside me. Let me take your cum, daddy.”

“I’ll let you drain me of every drop, my little psychopath.”

“Cum daddy cum, make me full and breed me with our homicidal baby daddy. Make you a real daddy.”

Chan shuddered, overwhelmed with immense arousal. His hips found life of their own, hammering into you at top speed, and watching the pleasure morph on your face and the staccato rhythm of your breath leave your lips, all while the load threatened to burst out of his sack. “I’m cumming, baby, all for you, ah—“ then it exploded inside you. His cum launched out of his cock like a hose, he painted your wall in milky white, turning pink as it seeped out of you.

“I’m so close, daddy…”

Chan threw his head back to catch his breath, hands possessively finding purchases on your hips. “That’s it, baby. cum for daddy.”

“I’m cuming daddy, I’m—“ You gripped your knife, taking Chan’s abandoned one before plunging both in his head. His smile dropped, a small and weak, “baby” leaving his sweet lips before spitting up blood on your chest and he fell limp. 

You didn’t stop, however, given the fact that your orgasm had just arrived the mere second Chan tasted metal in his mouth. Your moans could’ve been mistaken for anguish if not for the smile on your savage face. “I’m cumming all over your cock, Daddy, fuck! You’re so good to me, you do so much for me. I love you so much. Hitting my spot even in death.”

The wave of climax finally started to fade, unlike your smile, wretched and demonic. “Thank you for your sacrifice, Daddy. I’ll miss you so much.” You kissed deceased Chan’s lips, coming down from him, and fixing his pants before fixing his pants before pulling your shorts back on your body.

“Y/n…what the fuck?”

Watching you pull the knives out of Chan’s head, Wonwoo's expression was a mix of confusion and horror, struggling to back away as you approached him calmly, almost serenely.

“Chan has served his purpose,” You answered plainly as if obvious. “It was his time.”

“You did that, all that, with him, and you MURDER HIM? Your partner in sick, sick psychotic crime?”

“I told you spice was necessary, plus I’ve grown rather fond of you.” You bent down to his level, eyes noticeably just a deep pit of disparity. “I couldn’t let him kill you, so I beat him to it. Good thing too, because that was the best orgasm I’ve ever had.”

Wonwoo whimpered under your touch—well, the knife’s touch—as the tip of it dragged over his jaw, drawing out a shudder. “Y-you’re letting me live?”

Your smile. That damned smile. You and Chan were mere reflections of each other. How had he not seen this sick image sooner?

“As long as it's with me, because you love me right? That’s what you said. You’ll always love me and keep me alive. You promised.”

You pressed the blade against his neck, “You’re cold-blooded. Fucking your dead friend’s girlfriend, leaving your other friends to die to save me, and taking on a mass murderer just for me.” Your other hand caressed over his face. “That’s hard fucking core, baby. I love that so much. You really love and want me. Well, I want you just as bad.”

“Like you wanted Chan?”

You scoffed, using the knife to point at the abandoned soulless body on the ground. “Chan was disposable. He was already fucked up in the brain. I can nurture you, let you prove you’re that you’re mine and only mine. Then I’d have no reason to kill you. Not at all…say you’ll be with me forever.”

“…yes, sweetie. O-of course I will.”

You sighed a breath of relief, your harmless hand coming over to stroke over the stray hairs on his head. “That’s my daddy. My one and only. We can be the finals. Together. Only us—”

“Hello! Wonwoo! Y/n!” Miraculously, Seungcheol found their way to you, barely alive it sounds like.

Rage filled your eyes. “Holy fuck how is he still alive,” you mumbled under your breath. “I’ll take care of him.”

You held the knife to your side, standing by the door and away from its open view. “Cheol! In here! We caught the killer!”

Seungcheol managed to find the defaced door, peeking through the rubble to see a disheveled Wonwoo, panting and close to death. “Wonwoo!”

“Cheol…” Wonwoo grunted. 

“Hang in there, buddy. I’ve got you.”

“To…your…right.”

You glared at Wonwoo, betrayal in your eyes before launching yourself at the hero, who hardly had a scratch on their body. Seungcheol, taking his friend's warning in consideration, built up a wall of defense. His eyes caught you just in time and held up your arms, pinning you against a wall. His eyes finally registered on your face, and his grip on you only tightened. “Y/n, you evil little bitch.”

You chuckled tauntingly, struggling against his weight and strength. “Hi, Cheol. I know you always wanted to stick something in me, mind letting me do it first?”

“You—wow, you’re actually mentally deranged.”

“You don’t like that? Maybe my knife through your skull can change your mind.”

He kicked you in the groin, having you plummet to your knees, cusses streaming out of you like a river. “You pussy. Ass. Bitch.”

“Seungcheol,” Wonwoo groaned, painfully cheering him on.

You managed to kick Seungcheol down in your distress, crawling on top of him to gain leverage. “I know you liked to be topped.”

You held the knife, hands wrapped tightly around the handle before striking. Meanwhile, Seungcheol’s hands were wrapped around your wrists, the tip of the knife tickling his nose. Sweat beaded against his forehead, struggling harder than he thought he would as you smiled still.

“This would be a lot sexier if you let me run my knife inside you, baby.”

“Fuck you and your demented punk ass,” he grunted.

“I would if you’d just FUCKING DIE!”

A gunshot follows soon after and the blood gushed from your neck, pouring from both ends and falling lifelessly against Seungcheol, who let out a shrill scream.

“I found a gun,” Seokmin proclaimed weakly from the door before fainting to the ground.

Seungcheol rolled your body off of him, sick to his stomach. “Sick crazy bitch.”

He looked towards his friend who remained helpless his entire journey before his eyes got caught on the dead body he only realized now. “Is that…”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo whispered.

“And they…”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck, dude.”

Seungcheol went around to pick up Seokmin from the ground, grabbing the gun. Meanwhile, Wonwoo’s eyes lingered over your body, in disbelief it was alive a mere second ago, then he saw something strange, causing his eyes to fly open. “Cheol behind you!”

Another gunshot. Right between your eyes and your body that stood for hardly a second longer than it should’ve—of course with the knife still in your hand—fell right back on the ground.

“They always come back,” Wonwoo quoted.

Seungcheol let out a deep exhale, loosening his grip around the gun. “And aim for the head.”

“Sorry about your house.”

“…sorry about your girlfriend.”

“Me too.”

post reading a/n: always like me to insert chan into anything fr. i have no excuses

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @homerunhansol @goblinvern @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @smileysuh (felt fucked up not to tag you bc you’re fucked it just like me 💕)

[sunburstsoldier]

Some modern codywan fics that I just love

I have an EXTREMELY LONG fanfic recs document and I've been meaning to make a bunch of posts for ages so here's the first one!! non-explicit Modern AU Codywans in no particular order:

HOT2GO by Saerus2665 for dontbelasagnax | 32k | Mature |

Nurse Ben & firefighter Cody. Ben is a disaster in this and i love it. also bonus Bant is there!

“Hey,” Ben calls from the back. He holds up the forms, “You missed one.” Cody latches another one of the cabinets closed then turns to him. He doesn’t seem surprised to see him. “My bad,” he says simply. He comes to the back of the wagon and takes a seat, legs hanging over the side. He glances up as Ben hands over the forms and pen. “You’d think running down signatures would be a little below your list of duties” he says, in that annoyingly pointed way of his. That’s fine. Ben’s decided he’s done walking on eggshells around him. “You’d think a Fire Captain would be better at remembering to fill out forms he’s done a hundred times,” he returns, just as pointed. Cody smiles at him, a sharp glint in his eye. Or: Nurse Ben and the bad bitch firefighter he pulls by being a complete disaster

Turn it on to a new kind of bright by rolo_rulu, Saerus2665 |41k |

Cody is a hot surfer & Ben is a biologist and also a banana stand dude. Absolutely hysterically funny.

Someone rolls him over onto his back. “Hnnngh…” Ben blinks his eyes open. There’s a man looking down at him, haloed in the bright light of the sun. He has dark eyes, and handsome features, including an interesting scar on the right side of his face. A stray dark curl hangs down in the middle of his forehead. He’s beautiful, with the sunlight behind him. Ethereal. “Are—are you an angel?” Ben finds himself saying. He doesn't know if it's the heat or his poor instinctive attempt at flirting that makes him say it. The man squints at him, brow furrowing, clearly caught off guard. “Uh—are you a banana?” The mention of it brings him back into the reality of the situation: he’s trapped in a banana suit, 10 feet from the banana stand, with the object of his recent fantasies—because yes, this is indeed Hot-Surfer-Cody— looking down at him.

Charmed On The Wayside by TapeMonkey21 | 39k Teen+ |

Lawyer Cody, farmer Obi-Wan, aka Hallmark AU! So good I read it twice in two days, it is EXACTLY like the hallmark movie I never knew I wanted.

Cody Fett's perfect big-city life falls apart when his boyfriend breaks up with him, leaving him heartbroken. A visit to the small Vermont town where his brother Rex lives has him crossing paths repeatedly with Ben, the strange, charming, handsome, flannel-wearing owner of the local cider mill and orchard. Can Cody find love again amidst the fall leaves? Or, the fall Codywan Hallmark Movie we all deserve. Written for the Codywan Comfort flash event.

*The truth that once was spoken by Jimmytiberius | 40k | Mature  | Les Mis Theater AU.

Now with several sequel mini fics, a gorgeous love letter to theater and to our favorite boys. Really cool then-and-now structure.

Obi-Wan Kenobi is a well-known actor in London's West End who's just signed a contract to make his long-awaited Broadway debut as Jean Valjean in Les Miserables. There's just one small wrinkle. Broadway star Cody Fett will be playing Inspector Javert. Obi-Wan hasn't seen Cody since the summer he was nineteen, when they were in summer stock together... also in a production of Les Miserables. Their relationship ended badly. What will happen when they see each other again for the first time in nineteen years? Will they ever find a way to tell each other the truth about what happened at the end of that summer?

sourdough: flour, water, and starting over by Shortcuts_make_long_delays |19k | Teen+ | BAKERY AU. This one is very sweet!!

Did Cody need to be up at 3:50am? No, not technically. But he had graciously offered to take Fox’s Sunday morning shifts at their Uncle’s bakery. Donning Fox's red apron as part of a decade long joke, he works at the bakery as he attempts to figure out what he wants from life. The first time Obi-wan shows up to dinner at Anakin's after moving back to Coruscant, he arrives twenty minutes late with the bag of rolls in hand, and unable to stop thinking about the baker in the red apron. Fox, he's pretty sure the name tag said.

bury me beneath the tree i climbed when i was a child by stormwarnings | 33k | Teen + |

Cody is an EMT; Obi-Wan's house keeps catching fire. Absolutely hysterical setting, I love the way they raise the twins communally in this fic so much.

Obi-Wan meets Cody for the first time when his niece and nephew almost light his house on fire.  (Obi-Wan Kenobi and Cody Fett find their way into love slowly but steadily. There's broken bones, too much sooty turnout gear, late hours spent at EMT class, three kids, ten brothers and two adopted siblings, two weddings, and all number of laughs and inside jokes along the way. It's worth it, in the end. Family's always worth it.)

It's Raining, Dear by cafffine |10k | Modern AU 

This one feels like you're just catching pieces of their lives together and i love it. Leia loves rocks. Obi-Wan has anxiety. I love it.

Cody and Obi-Wan fall in love. They live together, Rex calls when he can, Anakin is just out of reach until he isn't, Luke and Leia grow up too fast, Ahsoka lives far away, the back deck needs to be fixed, life happens and it happens and it happens.

More to come !! enjoy!!

[riddled-with-fear]

Heads or Tails

Have an angsty Harvey Dent x reader one shot! Finally back to posting after taking an unforeseen break!

Summary: Harvey comes back to see reader after years of not seeing them. Angst, but no smut.

Word Count: 1020

CW: Angst, rejection, coercion, emotional manipulation(?), no smut, GN!reader.

You sighed as you sat your briefcase on your desk, glancing over to Harvey’s old space. You had been tasked years ago with clearing out his desk, and taking down the name plates on his side of the office he split with you. You just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. The office had replaced Harvey’s position long ago, but they had a new office space remodeled for them, so you saw no point in rushing the task.

You walked over to his desk, which had long since been covered in a thick layer of dust, and stared at it. Longing for Harvey back.

You hadn’t seen him in person since he was unconscious in the hospital after he had been attacked with acid. The nurses had reported him eloped the last time you had gone to visit him and since then he has taken on the persona of Two Face. Though, you knew long before Harvey had been struggling with his mental health, the acid attack just set everything into motion.

You picked up an old picture frame and wiped the dust off the glass with your bare hand. The picture was of you, Harvey, and Bruce Wayne. It was the day you graduated and had joined the D.A.’s office. A faint smile graced your lips as you fondly remembered that day. You and Harvey had been inseparable ever since. 

“Just the way I left it, you included.” 

The sudden voice startled you. You jumped and quickly spun around, the picture falling from your grasp and shattering on the floor.

“Harv… Harvey?! What… what are you doing here? Where have you been?! I…” Tears welled up in your eyes, spilling over your bottom lids. 

Harvey leaned off the door frame and slowly stepped further into the office, his hands hidden in his pockets. “Good to see you too.”

“I… You have no idea how much I’ve been missing you.” You braced yourself against the desk for support.

You had seen Two Face on the news, and in the papers, but seeing them in person was... different. His entire left side was horrifically scarred. His suit was tailored to reflect that as well. His right side sported a pristine white suit, and his left side sported a black, singed, and tattered suit.

“But not enough to visit. Not enough to write.” Two Faces scoffed. 

“I tried! Harvey, I tried!” You cried, “ever since your accident… I stayed with you. You eloped from the hospital, no one told me what happened! I’ve had to find out on my own from the news, gossip at work… Do you know how hard it is to get clearance to visit Arkham!? Even for a DA assistant!” You sank to the floor, your legs too weak from shock to hold you up any longer. 

“You… did?” Harvey asked gently. 

You sobbed, louder this time, “I did! The guards… the nurses… even Sharp! They told me every time I didn’t have the proper clearance to visit you. That you were too high risk for visitors… no matter how many forms I filled out, or waivers I signed! Then… then I hear about what happened with the asylum, and then Arkham City!? What the hell even was that! We did everything we could to prevent that facility from opening and yet…” you put your face in your hands, tears coating your palms. "I never gave up on you."

The only noises in Harvey’s old office was the sound of your sniffles. Neither of you spoke. You both sat in uncomfortable silence. 

Two Face finally spoke up, “Join us.” 

You looked up at Harvey, tears blurring your vision, “what? What are you talking about?”

Harvey moved to kneel in front of you, extending his good hand, “Join us. Be our assistant. Be by our side again.” 

“Harvey… Harvey I can’t…” 

“Can’t? Or won’t? Too good for us now?” Two Face scoffed.

"I have a life! I have a career, one I've worked so hard for, I can't just abandon it like-" You quickly stopped yourself.

"-like what? Like us?" Two Face accused.

"no... no that's. I'm sorry, that's not what I meant." You back tracked.

"There's nothing here for you. Leave it behind, we can give you everything you want." Two Face tried bargaining.

"Harvey, I can't. It's not that simple. I will never give up on you, I can support you from here. But Harvey, I cannot go down this path with you." You grabbed his hand, and held it tight between yours in a silent plead for understanding on his part.

Harvey took a deep breath, and looked away from you in an attempt to ground himself. To keep Two Face's anger in check. You could tell Two Face was clearly not used to being told no from anyone.

Harvey turned to look at you once more, "It was just an empty promise then, huh? You told us you'd do anything for us. What changed?" Two Face spoke up.

"Of course not, of course it's not an empty promise but, do you know what you're asking of me? I didn't change but you did."

Sure, somewhere deep down there was still the same Harvey Dent you knew, but Two Face had held him hostage for years, and there was no telling if he would ever let go.

"Should we let the coin decide? Heads you stay here, tails you come with us. What do you say?" Two Face reached into the singed pocket of his slacks and pulled out the trick coin.

You glanced at it, knowing exactly what that coin was. It was simply an illusion of choice. No matter what side it landed on, it would favor Two Face.

You swallowed thickly, "Fine. I'll play. Heads I'm staying right here." You made sure to reiterate his stipulations back to him.

The coin flipped with a soft ting. Two Face caught it in his scarred hand, and took his good one out of yours. He placed the coin on the back of his good hand and revealed it to you.

Harvey smiled.

"Tails."

[reblog-house]

Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial Wc: 835 Fandom: Life series Characters: Life series winners (including April Fools) Ao3: Here! When Scott appeared in a new world after Simple Life, he was not expecting what met him. Warning for body horror, though you don't see it happen.

Seeing Double

Tiny Scott was born from light into a new world. Both his eyes closed and his arms extended, a gust of air caressed his face in a welcoming gesture. 

With a content smile, he slowly opened his eyes, ready to take in his new surroundings. The first few moments of calmness before the start of a new game were always important to him. It was never good to start the game with an unsteady foot forward.

That short game he just finished had been a good change of pace. He felt truly refreshed after that. He couldn’t wait to-

The world wasn’t grass or sand, there was no sky — and very few people surrounded him. Not nearly enough to constitute a-

Something crashed, and Joel was yelling, pointing at him, but his eyes were set on the others.

He looked strange. Much… taller — disproportionately so. His torso seemed normal, but his legs and arms…

“You said there were no repeats! That’s not fair! And why does it have to be Scott, of all people?”

“Ouch? What did I-” he said, at the same time as another familiar voice said: “I’m still here, you know?”

It was his voice. Or as close to his voice as could be, distorted to his own ears. He was behind a counter, crystals refracted from his eyes, but they didn’t meet his own. 

“And why are you complaining? Finally realizing I could’ve actually won against you?” Grian’s voice came out smug from behind him, at the other side of the room. “From what you said, it seemed pretty close…” 

“It was not! And you didn’t win, anyway,” he rushed to say, “so I don’t know why you’re trying to brag about it!”

Grian looked wrong as well. More obviously than the others, covered head to thighs in feathers, and his face, it was-

“Oi, you’re all scaring him. Look at the little guy! He’s practically trembling!” Pearl said as she approached him — he twirled around to face her, and he shouldn’t have. Her figure towered over him more with every step. “Hi Scott!” She looked down at him and smiled. “Didn’t think I’d see a second of you here. I’m assuming you’ve learnt your lesson since we last met?” Pearl’s smile bore fangs.

His poor body’s heart was going faster than it did even with this size at the start. Faster than even the exertion of the chase when he was still of his regular height. 

“Ah, I see someone forgot to sacrifice himself this time around?” Scar said slowly, followed by a sip of his mug, sitting by the counter. Way too many flowers grew from his face, though only one flower would’ve counted as too many.

“Or to team up with the wrong people.” Martyn said, equally as scarred by coral, if not more. One of his eyes had sprouted into colorful tendrils, no hint of what had once been there. There were gaps in his smile. “Had a fun run? Not sorry for cutting your win short back then, by the way. It had to happen.”

Once everyone stopped talking, there was a brief moment of silence. Scott took this time to bring his heart rate down a notch.

“Scott!”

Oomph- a body crashed against him, sending him back a few steps — he barely managed to keep himself on his feet. Hands and a torso sandwiched his body and half his face like a hug, but no arms surrounded his body- no, he had to turn his head away from the body to breathe, and only the first fourth of an arm squished his face, the rest of it missing. The hands behind him pressed even harder into the hug for a second, then the whole body released him and held his shoulders when he stumbled back, keeping him in place. It was Cleo. 

“Look at you! Hi! You’re even shorter than me! Join my short team, I’m planning on overthrowing the talls — particularly Joel,” she fake-whispered. “He let his growth spurt get to his head, but he just looks weird with the legs and—”

“I heard that!”

“That’s surprising!” they yelled back. “I don’t remember you putting a bug on me! Or did you get the ‘hearing superpower’ Martyn had?” Then they turned to Scott and their whole demeanor changed again. “How are you doing! Your head is so big, how are you even standing up? It’s like half of your body and three times wider! That can’t be stable!” 

“I…” 

Everyone was looking at Scott, surrounding him from every side. Each face extremely familiar, memories from many lives past coagulating, fusing into the now in a way the pieces should never fall. All of them mangled, uncanny, wrong. 

But looking down to his own body, tiny legs under an even tinier torso, hands stained by void like the dirt he could never get rid of at the pond, from countless hours of thinning out the world, he realized…

He was faring no better than them.

[leiatalon]

Can we get a quick overview of the ros appearances. I feel like i keep missing their descriptions in the game for some reason.

Sure! I'll pull some descriptions out of the text. There are also descriptions in the glossary on the stats menu. I tend to sprinkle bits of physical description throughout, so more is revealed in subtle layers as you read, but I'll drop the intros for each character here…

As I went through to grab these I realized some of the physical intros were pretty thin. I've painted in a few more details in my working file of the game because of your ask, so thanks for that! Will include them in the next update, which should be toward the end of the month.

The Eternal Library Character Descriptions:

COLLIN's broad shoulders tip at an angle as he leans back and looks up at you with green eyes showing bits of gold like sunshine peeking through dense forest. His longish dark hair is tamed tonight, though you've seen it wild and wind-blown many a time. His long legs stretch out, sword resting in its scabbard against the heavy wooden chair.

DORIAN's indigo eyes shimmer with silver as he smiles. Dragon ink tattoos wind around his wrists, with the hint of more beneath his collar. He wears his dark hair long, but you catch a glimpse of ears that show the subtle points of someone with Fae blood as he tips his head in greeting.

SEVITAS is a bit shorter and a great deal wider than Marienna, with eyes the color of dark whiskey and a face that boasts several scars: one across his left eyebrow, one on the same cheek, and another on his chin, showing gray in his otherwise dark beard. His biceps bulge beneath his black shirt as he curls his hands into fists, then straightens his thick fingers in what seems to be a habitual motion. So many weapons hang off his frame you're hard pressed to count them all, but the whip clipped to his belt is impossible to miss.

ANGELINA has sky-blue eyes. Her golden hair is pinned with jewels and she's the picture of elegance and beauty in her pale-pink gown.

MARIENNA is tall and lean with sharp eyes, cropped black hair, and smooth golden-brown skin. She carries short swords and a collection of knives.

GEMMA is petite and fiery. She has bright eyes: one green, one gray. Her sandy-brown hair is swept up in a bun, but a few strands escape to frame her heart-shaped face.

Yes, Sevitas has a longer description than the rest. He needs it. Dude has SCARS. 🤣 Again, there's more peppered throughout the text, but I appreciate the reminder to make sure each character gets introduced with a decent physical description. Sometimes I see them in my head and forget to paint in all the details while I'm writing.

Thanks for the ask! 👑

[mxstly-melancholy]

William Afton x Detective!Reader Part Two

warnings: fem reader, stockholm syndrome? , knife , regret, silent threats ? lmk if im missing anything.

part one is here.

© 2025 mxstly-melancholy ─ do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms without my permission.

“W-what-!” You gasp out.

William held the knife closer to you, making you sit very still. You didn’t know what to do. This was the end- surely. There was no way you were getting out of this. 

“You see… I’ve been doing experiments. I won’t bore you with the details.. but I do know someone you can pin the crimes on- and it’ll look legit.” He mumbles into your ear.

Your eyes scan the room anxiously, trying to find any way out of here quickly if he loses his grasp.

“W-who?” You stutter out. Your mind's going a million miles an hour. You tried your best to stay calm. 

“My business partner, Henry. I can plant evidence that makes him look guilty. That is… if you’re gonna be a good girl and let me do what I need to without getting in my way?” You could hear the smirk in his voice. The knife remained close to your neck. 

You’re nearly hyperventilating at this point, “I-is that what you want?”

William hums in response, pulling the knife away.

“That’s not all.” 

You let out an exasperated sigh, falling forward onto your hands.

Behind you, William puts the knife down on the couch. He crosses his legs. 

“What do you want..?” 

He puts a hand under his chin, fake thinking. 

“Well… let’s see..” he uses his foot to kick your back, signaling for you to face him.

You spin around on your knees, scooting backwards in the process. A scowl was written on your face as Williams' arrogant gaze was on you. 

“I want you to keep the police out of my way, and no more investigations at my business.” 

Your eyes flickered with nervousness, “and what if I can’t do that..?” 

William glanced over at his knife on the couch, then back down at you. 

He didn’t need to say anything for you to understand. 

You swallow harshly, knowing the consequences of almost everything happening right now.

This was a bad idea from the start, you should have trusted your gut. Everything is on the line now, including your life. 

Your lips parted with hesitance, unsure of what to say or do now as you sit on the floor in front of him. 

“Nervous little fella, aren’t you?” He gives a cooked grin. 

You flinch at his words, disgust crawling through you. 

“Well I don’t think you want to leave after all this.” He says sarcastically, standing up and stretching. “You’ll have to stay the night… with me.” 

Your eyes widen, there is no way you were going to stay here. He puts his hand out for you, you hesitate but take it, standing up slowly. You rub your neck, small surface cuts along it. You wince, but quickly realize it’s nothing too bad.

William grabs your hand and drags you to his bedroom. He turned the bedside lamp on, and your eyes scanned the room. It was neat, almost too neat. It’s like no one has lived here in years. 

William starts to undo his shirt, your eyes can’t help but wander, looking at his chest as it becomes exposed. The harsh scars that were on his arms continued to his chest and back, and.. further down. 

He notices your stares, and makes no effort toward stopping you. 

He turns his back towards you, starting to undo his belt. 

Fuck it, you thought, you were exausted, and quite frankly you couldn’t give a fuck right now about anything. You take your shoes and jeans off, then your bra, only leaving you in your shirt and panties. You watch as William gathers his clothes off the floor, only in his briefs, and throws them into a basket in the corner. 

You quickly avert your eyes when he turns, making your way into the bed. It was cold, but comforting as you crawled under the covers. You had no energy in you to fight with him about not staying, so you made the best with what you had. 

You feel the bed dip as he gets into bed next to you, his warmth radiating towards you. You wanted to scoot closer by instinct, but you didn't. 

He turns the lamp off, leaving you two to lay in dark silence. 

You lay on your side, your back to him.

“You know..” he says softly, “you almost have me feeling bad.” 

You scoff, “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” 

He giggles, “No… I don’t know. Maybe we can talk through everything again tomorrow- when my head is more clear.” 

You had whiplash from this man, you had no idea what was going on anymore. 

“Okay..” you yawn. “If that’s what you want..” 

William turns, facing you. His hand reaches out, hovering over your hip. He wants to touch you, so badly. It’s been years since a woman laid in bed with him, he couldn’t help it.

Your eyes were closed, unaware of the hovering hand over you. 

He withdrew his hand, bringing it back to himself. He mentally beats himself up, knowing he could easily get what he wanted with some persuasion, but for some reason- whether that be the exhaustion or some other mental factor- He can’t. Not to you. Not anymore. He knows what he did earlier was wrong - he was ashamed, even if she agreed, he felt dirty. 

As if you could hear his thoughts out loud, you turn around and face him, his eyes open, staring at you. You couldn’t see much in the dark, but the moon outside illuminating into the room casted a faint light onto him, just enough to see his face. 

You hesitate, but move forward, and kiss him. He accepts it, his hands coming up to cradle your face. 

After a moment, you pull back and look into his eyes. 

“I don’t know why I did that.” You whisper. 

William gives a soft smile, “It’s okay.” 

His hand moves to your lower back, bringing you in closer to him. You lay your head on his shoulder, his warmth enveloping you. You hum with satisfaction, your eyes falling closed as sleep overtakes you. 

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

How strong are your skeleton's bones? How much would it take for them to break one? Has any of them already break one?

Undertale Sans - Despite his low HP, he's pretty average. His bones are as solid as those of a human. He broke a few during his teenage years because he was quite reckless, mainly in his arms. But never a big big fracture. He has a beginning of scoliosis though, that guy is definitely never sitting straight.

Undertale Papyrus - Despite having phenomenal strength, Papyrus' bones are quite fragile. It's mainly because of his growth during his teenage years, and the long size of his spine. It's actually pretty thin and he got a few scares growing up every time he fell badly on his back. He only broke his ankle once, after Undyne accidentally sent a spear through it while they were playfighting. She felt terrible and he used this to force her to do things he really wants to do when she's getting too stubborn.

Underswap Sans - He has bones of steel, quite literally. He can break rocks by crushing them against some of his bones. He never broke a bone and his hard training since he was a teenager definitely helped making them strong.

Underswap Papyrus - Honey always struggled to coordinate his bones since he was a kid, and that resulted in a lot, a lot, A LOT of fractures. Sometimes several at the same time, but not done at the same moment lol. His bones are fragile because of how many times he broke them. Arms, legs, pelvis, ribs... He pretty much broke everything at least once and still has a few scars as a memory of them. He almost broke his skull once by falling off the bridge of Snowdin which was actually not a bridge but a cliff Blue painted to look like a bridge to make a human fall the cliff :D

Underfell Sans - His bones are quite thick and very hard to break. His body kinda adapted to the horrible conditions he was living in. He still has a lot of broken bones in his life, mainly from stronger monsters trying to kill him, and he has a lot of scars. He actually misses two ribs as well near his soul because a monster ripped them off to try and grab it. Red hates people touching him near that area as that's a big weak spot he's scared people can find out. Like Sans, he has a beginning of scoliosis too, and it's even worse because even standing up, Red is not standing straight lol. Edge usually kicks him in the pelvis every time he catches him standing the wrong way but Edge is not here every hour of his life so who cares.

Underfell Papyrus - Edge has thick bones as well and can take a lot of hits, that's why he's mainly a soldier who fights hand-to-hand, unlike Undyne who is better at fighting at close distance. That's why they're so complementary even though they hate it. He broke a few here and there, but that idiot never told anyone so they kinda heal on their own. Some of his bones are not very straight, others have really bad scars, including his face, but that's fine. He's still not telling if he's breaking something on the Surface by the way.

Horrortale Sans - Oak's bones are extremely fragile. Unlike his brother, he never ate human meat and so he took the 14 years of famine in the face. Added to that, he lacks the ability to feel pain, so when he injures himself, he usually doesn't notice right away. The list of fractures is quite long, starting with his head, obviously, but also his ribs. Undyne forced him still by throwing spears in his ribs, and he broke some in the panic, as he was convulsing on the floor after she exploded his face. He misses a good 20% of his ribcage, that dusted. He also has only four fingers on the right hand, because the fifth one got stuck into one of his brother's bear traps, oopsie. He broke his arms and legs multiple times since to the point that Toriel actually put health reinforcement spells on his legs and arms lol because she was tired of fixing them.

Horrortale Papyrus - Willow's bones are very fragile as well, both because of his growth as a kid and the famine, but he's recovering well. All of his spine is badly damaged because of his last fight against Undyne, where he tanked most of the attacks. He has to be very careful and follow all the doctor's recommendations as if he receives another powerful hit, they warn him he might end up paralyzed for life. His pelvis broke in several pieces as well and it didn't heal properly, which is why he's limping a little and uses a stick to walk.

Swapfell Sans - He has really thin bones, but he compensates by being extremely good at dodging and attacking straight in the weak spots of his opponents. Nox was refused several times in the Royal Guard because they judged him too weak, but that didn't stop him from killing all of them to earn his place. He never broke anything, and he's imposing himself long daily sessions of exercise to avoid any injury. He's at the top of his form. He looks weak but he is really not. No one can land a hit on him, he specialized in dodging to be sure it never happens. At least he hopes it will never happen...

Swapfell Papyrus - He has pretty average bones, despite being a walking disaster. That's actually quite a miracle he's still alive since he broke everything at least one, spine and skull included, but somehow always had enough luck to recover without any consequence. Most of these injuries are either because he was too drunk Underground or doing stupid things. It's not his fault, he doesn't know how to not put himself in danger.

Fellswap Gold Sans - He has bones of steel as well. You can headbutt him at full force and knock yourself out without him even flinching. Wine is scarily strong, no one is really sure if he's bluffing on his abilities or not. He's terrifyingly fast, super strong and it's hard to see him struggling in any fight. He broke a few bones in his childhood fighting random monsters in the streets, but that never stopped him.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - Coffee looks like a weak monster to everyone who ever met him, so it's easy to think his bones are fragile. He has actually bones of steel as well and a scary strength. He's just not using it because he doesn't feel like it and has no self confidence whatsoever. But yes. Sweet Coffee can tear a human in half if he really wants to. Why do you think Wine is so frustrated about his wasted potential?

Some bonuses with the rest of the Horror brothers because why not:

Horrorswap Sans - His bones are weaker after the famine, but he still has extremely strong bones. He suffered a lot of injuries during the famine, as not all humans were actually happy to get killed by him and fought back. He may have lost a leg in his fight against Alphys, but he manages pretty fine without it. He adapted his prosthetic leg really fast and he is barely limping, it's hard to tell he has only one leg.

Horrorswap Papyrus - Obviously, both the famine and the torture Alphys inflicted on him didn't help with his already fragile bones. Pumpkin has huge problems with his bones, as some of them are so damaged they're slowly dusting. He has a ton of fractures that didn't heal properly, and so most of his bones are in weird angles, with bumps and old broken parts sticking out in some places. The doctors also had to break again several too damaged bones to assure him of a better quality of life later. There's obviously the irredeemable damage caused by the loss of his inferior jaws added to that, which makes eating very difficult and he lost his ability to talk. He has days where he's in so much pain he can't walk, but it's getting rarer. He still has to walk with a stick, and he can't do a lot of things, like climbing stairs or hopping over surfaces taller than his knees.

Horrorfell Sans - He still has thick bones and got out of the famine with not that much injuries. His body already adapted to extreme survival, and there was already famine in Underfell way before the CORE crashed so he was ready. Sure, he lost an arm in the last battle, and he's still very salty about it, but that's fine. Who needs two arms anyway, that's so overrated. He keeps inventing stories of how he lost his arm. He doesn't want to tell his kids that Undyne cut it in the first 10 seconds of the battle and then he hid behind a wall for the rest of the fight cheering his brother lmao.

Horrorfell Papyrus - Chief still has thick bones, but he's not using them that much anymore. Undyne almost fully sectioned his spine and without Grillby's quick thinking and powerful healing spell, he would have probably died. That's still a miracle he has legs actually. Yes, they're not moving, but at least he still has them. The doctors are hopeful he will be able to walk again someday, so he tries his best to keep his spirit up.

[ishouldbedoinghw]

You Can't Erase Me

One Piece fanfic, part 3

Previous parts are in my pinned masterlist.

A woman enslaved by the celestial dragons is found by a man with red hair. Angst ensues.

A/N: This story will follow the canon loosely; some events will stay the same, others will be edited for the plot. The timing of events will also be slightly edited from canon so that certain characters are included. The main character is an OC of mine and in her mid-20s. Yes this is important. Character design will likely come soon.

TW: slavery, human trafficking, vomit, mentions of attempted sexual abuse, traumatic flashbacks, discussion of trauma, general angst

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

The first thing I remember next is vomit. There's acid pouring out of my mouth and sweat covering my body, and I'm emptying my stomach again and again and again until I don't think I even have bones anymore.

I'm hunched over, gripping the sides of a bucket so hard my knuckles turn white and my fingertips bleed. My clothing sticks to my body, and my mouth is writhing with the taste of vomit and bitter salt. My right hand reaches under me, trying to find some stability and trace the seven grooves in the floor. I can't feel them. The floor beneath me isn't the smooth wood I'm accustomed to, but a bumpy, moist texture that makes me want to vomit again.

Where am I what am I doing why am I sick what's happened-

A hand gingerly touches my back, and a white-hot pain tears through my body, making me scream. The hand quickly withdraws, taking the pain with it. At first, I think it might be the honey-man, then nausea rolls through me again as I picture the not-boy's hands touching me again, and I'm gagging over the bucket.

"It- it's alright, I won't touch you again," says a voice behind me, and I want to whirl around and put space between me and whoever is calling out to me, but the most my body will do is heave itself around slowly. My limbs feel heavy, and my head is pounding with the movement, and I catch a glimpse of dark blonde hair before I let out a choked sob that I don't quite understand. I spent my life serving the not-boy, why do I now want to scream at the thought of him being here?

Despite my mind's screaming protests, the blonde hair moves closer to me, and the blurred figure becomes a face. I relax slightly - it isn't him.

But I can't convince myself that I'm okay. I can't remember ever seeing anyone that looked like this man, he was never someone that came into the not-boy's room. He wasn't the honey-man, and I'd never heard his voice even murmuring in the hallways or through the walls.

"My name is Hongo," he speaks again, gesturing toward himself. "I'm a doctor, I'm here to make sure you're okay, and I'm not going to hurt you."

A doctor?

I stay silent, and he speaks again.

"What's your name?"

My mouth is sticky and unyielding as I try to open it. He looks at me, not speaking.

Is he just waiting for me to say something?

He's sitting cross-legged across from me, and I feel very... studied under his gaze. There's a scar creeping from his hairline, and most of his dirty blonde hair is pulled into a ponytail near the top of his head, the rest shaved from the top of his ear down. He's clearly older, but he moves with the energy of a much younger man, still full of life.

My tongue loosens, and I finally say, "They call me Cheeper."

He smiles at me then, all teeth that splits his face in two. He's missing a couple of teeth on one side, and I find myself staring at the gaps.

"But is that your name?" he presses further.

I really didn't think it was, the longer I thought about it. I think at one point I'd been something else, but I'd been Cheeper for so long that it was really the only name I associated myself with.

"No," I said finally, shifting my gaze from him to the floor.

"Do you have a name?"

Why does he care so much?

"I don't know," I shrug and start picking at the floor, somewhat missing the familiar one, two, three, four, five, six, seven grooves again. My body was still uncomfortably sticky, and my fingers left little semi-transparent smears as I traced shapes in the floor. The more I move my hands, the more I notice them shaking.

Hongo's hand starts reaching toward me again, and I find myself shuffling away before my back hits the wall behind me, and that burning pain shoots through me again. I let out a choked sob at the sensation, and he snatches his hand back, looking a bit sheepish.

"Is it okay if I touch you? Sorry I didn't ask before, I'm used to- well, different kinds of patients."

I wasn't sure what he meant by that, and I didn't ask. I just force myself to nod, closing my eyes and bracing myself for the pain from earlier.

Hongo's POV

"It would be better if you opened your eyes for this, might help you keep calm if you can see what I'm doin'," I say, reaching for a pair of thin gloves from on top of the table to my right.

She warily opens her eyes again, but doesn't relax an ounce, even at the sight of the gloves. She almost reminds me of a deer, with the way her spindly limbs tremble and how she looks at me with wide, terrified eyes.

"How about you just watch what I'm doing, you can tell me to stop anytime," I say as gently as I can, showing her my hands.

Her pale lips twitch, and her eyes are watery at she looks away, clearly fighting with herself. I wait, moving my hands to now fold them in my lap.

"I-" she finally says, her voice barely audible. "I don't want it to hurt again."

I shift closer to where she's cowered in the corner as subtly as I can, holding my arm out.

"Look," I say softly, "Touch my arm."

She doesn't move, so I continue:

"I think you have some injury on your back that's causing that pain. I won't touch you there if you don't want, but I need to see what other injuries you have if you don't wanna get more sick."

She looks at me again, tears spilling down her face as she says, "Okay."

I grab her wrist as gingerly as I can, and she visibly flinches as I press her fingertips to my arm.

"See?" I say, giving her what I hope is a comforting smile. She doesn't shy away as I release her wrist, so I take that as permission to continue.

She watches me with wide eyes as I check over her exposed skin. She's ghastly pale, and extremely dehydrated - to be expected from someone who was just fished out of the ocean and promptly puked everywhere. Her skin is raw and bruising around her neck, but nothing too serious as far as I can tell.

Lean back away from her, I start chewing on the inside of my cheek as I figure out what to say next. I don't want to push her, especially considering I'm a man she doesn't know, but I'm worried about the pain in her back.

I let out a sigh, and say "Listen, I know you're scared, and you don't want me to touch your back, but I need to see what's wrong so I can help."

"Do you promise you're going to help?" Her voice is barely a whisper, but I can't help but be thrilled that she's cooperated thus far. I stand, holding my hand out to her. She stares at it for a moment before putting both of her hands in mine, gripping both sides of my palm as I help lift her to her feet. She doesn't let go, and her legs tremble beneath her as her grip on my hand tightens.

Can she even stand on her own?

I start chewing the inside of my cheek again as I take just how truly tiny she really is. I can't even tell how old she is, she's all bones and pale skin, and my stomach clenches as I take in how malnourished she seems to be. I let her lean on me as I lead her to the bed on the other side of the room. As I gently guide her to sit down, her arm shoots down to stabilize herself on the stiff mattress. I almost turn back around to grab the puke bucket again as I watch her head hang and her breath quicken, but she looks up at me again after a minute, waiting for me to start.

"I promise that I'm here to help, but I can't promise this is going to be painless."

Her throat bobs, and for a moment I'm afraid she'll refuse my help, but she nods her head. I let out a sigh of relief, and start checking her vitals, saving the inspection of her back for last. I start mumbling what I'm doing once I touch her, hoping to offer some form of comfort.

Finally, I let out a puff of air and stand to full height, my knees cracking a bit as I did so.

"Alright, girlie, I need to lift your shirt up to see what's going on there, okay? I'm just gonna push it up over your shoulders, and it'll stay covering your front."

She just nodded once, and hunched over a bit more. The corner of my mouth twitches at her attempt to help. I had no idea where the poor girl came from, or how she'd ended up with some mermaid, especially so far from Fishman Island. Hell, even she didn't know. As I sat down next to her and gingerly started lifting the hem of her ratty shirt, I tried wracking my brain to figure out how a person couldn't even remember their own damn name.

A sour smell hit me as I slowly pushed her shirt up to her shoulders, and I could see raw, festering skin underneath. Bile rose into my throat, and my breathing grew unsteady as I saw the full state of her back. There, settling an infection deep into this girl's back, was the brand of the Celestial Dragons.

And it all made sense. The raw skin and bruising around her throat, the lack of any nourishment, right down to her lack of spirit-

My hand started shaking as my gaze traveled down to the exposed skin of her hips, littered in bruises. My breathing grew labored, and I had to clench my fist to keep myself from pulling her into my chest and telling her it would be alright, she was safe, and that she was far away from whatever sick bastards had done this to her.

But I couldn't scare her. I'm not even sure she was aware of anything that had really happened to her, and I sure as hell didn't know how to tell her.

I knelt in front of her so that I was at her eye level, and steadied my breathing.

"Well, girlie, you've got a nasty burn that looks infected. It's gonna hurt like a bitch, but I've gotta clean it and treat it or it'll get a lot worse."

To be honest, I wasn't sure how that infection hadn't killed her already. If she couldn't even remember where she came from, and she didn't even know what was on her own body, I can't even imagine how long she'd been under their control.

"Girlie," I started softly, "Do you know where you got all this?"

She looks at me, and shifts on the bed to run a trembling hand through her hair. It looks like a deep maroon or magenta, and seems to have been buzzed fairly recently.

"I don't know. I-"

She was cut off with a sharp knock on the door. I wanted to groan, knowing exactly who it was interrupting me. The door swings open, and there he stands - my captain, Red-Hair Shanks.

[skin-anon]

//ooc skin anon/patch.... its me......the MOD LOCKSTEP /ref anyways hi.uhh ik youve said youre more of a writer than an artist.However if you have any sort of vision for what patch looks like i would like to try to interpret their design. i have hyperphantasia and i kinda ? have a vision for what they look like but id rather be as accurate to the creator's vision as possible.so if you have any written description apart from the mass of eyes then please tell me -🔒🐾ooc

ooc You ask for a description, and here it is. For a little explanation, the mass of eyes are mostly just because, when in complete darkness. That's all you can see of him unless you have something like night vision. He usually keeps himself 'away' from others, due to seeing himself as dangerous. But he just loves to help people. Blame the soft side of him. or the sad side. Being the eldest parts of him, they are the real reason he tries so hard to be a "gentle giant"

I have both a description of how he looks and art made by @ratexplody

This so far is the "closest" to how he looks, missing a pair of moth-like antenna atop the head, something to tell how tall he is. And a thinner body. I am happy with what Rat made for my baby. He stands at 40 meters tall, his "outer shell" seems to be built of various materials. From the stitched up green left arm of fur (which ends in long fingers and a oversized hand), to the purple dyed animal-leather arm that ends in a mantis-like claw/blade/thing. To the simple human manikin arm below that one. what with his size one would think it impossible to fit him in any normal building... thing is though... he sorta... warps physical space where ever he goes. Interiors just become 'his size'. Bending, stretching on until he can comfortable stand within the space. I've struggled with deciding how I want his torso to look beyond simply "thin" and with the comb-ribs and cylinder-center. Most I got is just battle scarred 'blanket' over something unknown. Legs are two enormous tree-like things, that... while they look like bark, They have the same color as flesh and feel more... metallic. From the knee-points the legs split into two separate legs on the right and three on the left. With many joints that allow him to use them to sorta... climb upside down, side ways. As long as his stump-like feet can anchor themselves, he can walk or stand from any angle. These legs make up nearly a third of his height. He has a long, prehensile tail that from a distance looks rat-like... but up close, it is really just one enormous string, that. Rather than being connected to the base of the spine like other tails. It connected to the back of its neck. Like a built in leash. The wing is bat-like, looking almost exactly like one at first. But the texture is... smooth. Like, it feels like a cotton bed-sheet if you were to touch it. Gentle and smooth. The cylinder in his chest, as Rat states can be removed. Allowing him to just... sorta swap what tunes he wants to listen to, his ribs acting as a comb and him as one big living music box. (I keep forgetting to state it, but where ever he goes. There is always the sound of a music box playing. It is soft, and sometimes hard to notice. But he loves his music too much to not have it playing. Think of this music-box song/thing as his theme, if you will.) (for anyone curious, This is the music box tune he plays. Think of it like a horror game theme for him, the louder it is. The closer he is.) For anyone curious about if he has any mouths... that big eye on the head isn't just a eye. The pupil is a circle of glowing teeth that when closed. Looks like an eye. the "eye-lid" is just the lips. It does not need to 'open' when he talks. His voices just... sorta radiate from his body like he is a living speaker system. Any wound over his body reveals eyes beneath his skin, including the stitch-work along his arm. -That music-box flail thing off to the side is something he carries with him at all times. But is unimportant unless a... 'incident' involving violence happened. This last fact is something I just like to say. If he were to cry, his tears would seep from his wounds. What with the enormous amount of eyes within and all that. As far as descriptions go, I believe this has all the little notes and facts I got about him. Three arms, two legs that split into more "legs". A single wing, rib-music box cylinder-cavity-thing. Mouth-eye... yea, I think everything is here.

[charkie-ee]

💚💛❤️ Third Life Series in 2024 (happy 3 years of third life!!) 💚💛❤️

“We’re on a quest for Pizza. I- *zooms in* PIZZA.”

once again, spoilers if you haven’t watched 3rd life smp!!

EPISODE 2: WELCOME TO SANDLAND

. Scar and Skizz are the only yellows on the server as of the start of episode 2

. Grian and Scar’s plan for getting valuables in the series was to steel other peoples items, and then put them in Pizza’s chest to sell back to them.

. The first visitors of Monopoly Mountain (aka Sandland in this episode) are Tango and Martyn!

. Scar gives out his first reputation points to Cleo for their enchanted chestplate! (oh god here we go)

. ‘Grian, get the bucket’ is a very common thing you’ll hear Scar say in this episode. This is the lava bucket Grian uses to threaten visitors of the sand biome, though he is not very successful.

. Scott does not respect the torches that layout Sandland, and steals some sand. Grian does a terrible job of preventing this.

. Scar gives reputation points to Tango for his enchanted leggings! (terrible mistake on his part)

. Grian, “get the bucket”s Joel, which is not very effective.

. Scar gives reputation points to Joel for his diamond sword! Grian is not happy about this.

. Grian tries to convince Etho not to give Scar his shoes, but is unsuccessful.

. Scar gives 10 reputation points to Etho for his enchanted boots! (that are deducted later)

. The magic act Soli-beans-major-littlewood-FANTASTICO! comes to show Grian and Scar a magic trick! (etho is also there) Unfortunately, this magic trick is making a dark oak tree appear! (from the forest mentioned in the last note) Goodbye to that monopoly.

This utter loss gives us, in my opinion, one of the best clips in the entire series;

(NEVERMIND TUMBLR ONLY LETS ME ADD ONE VIDEO PER POST WTF. anyway its the one where the ‘magic’ group leaves and Scar says ‘i’m going to murder them’)

. BigB visits! And I’m going to say something now, because not enough people realize this. Grian always has a different tone with BigB throughout these series. He’s much more soft with him, and does everything to benefit him until they turn red. Take a took at this clip below:

this clip is kind of self explanatory? in a way. for instance Grian talks about desperately needing food, and a few second later, gives BigB a portion of his porkchops despite not knowing if BigB’s has enough food. Keep this in mind when watching Double Life. specifically when Grian tries to ditch Scar to hang out with BigB. They’ve always had that kind of bond since the start of the series.

people who haven’t watched double life, you can scroll past that :-D (i guess its too late now but. ahem. moving on)

. BigB gives Grian the idea to put pressure plates all around their base to scare off unwanted visitors.

. Scar finally calls the Sandland base ‘Monopoly Mountain’ (he said it! he said the thing!)

. BigB drops a diamond for Scar, and before he can try to barter with him anymore, BigB flees with the help of Grian’s cobwebs to slow Scar down.

. BigB gets 50 reputation points for a diamond!

. Grian crashes, and Bdubs dies while he’s logged out

. Grian timelapses building the Desert Tower on Monopoly Mountain! (in the process he also accidentally builds his face on the base lmao)

Also one quick thing— apparently Pizza was presumed dead by other players earlier in the episode. Grian does not film or explain this at all, except at the very end where he says Skizz informed them that Pizza was alive. (theres something about this llama and not getting enough screen time smh. i don’t know where it came from and i don’t know how it died, but its there)

.💚💛❤️.

did i forget anything? reply, or put it into the tags if theres information I missed!!

I will be doing more posts like this for all of the episodes of Grian’s pov. that being said, if i miss something that was said/a scene in a different pov, i will not include that in this post.

thank you for reading and have an excellent day!

.💚💛❤️.

[atamascolily]

Lily liveblogs: Thunderbolt Fantasy 4x05

"Have fun storming the castle!"

picking up from where we left off last week with the road trip through the Wasteland of Spirits and Juan Can Yun and Dan Fei asking "Are we there yet?"

Shang: Don't make me turn this expedition around!

they want to stop and rest in a crevasse and Shang thinks this is a bad idea but they do it anyway

they are attacked by evil vines and NOPE it back out into the sandstorm, lololol

Wasteland of Spirits is Tatooine from Star Wars, confirmed

I don't know why Shang thought he could just let these kids go off by themselves, thank goodness he got smacked by plot or else they'd be toast.

meanwhile, in the demon realm, Chao Feng's sole surviving officer freaks out and runs off... straight into a han jiao's mouth and is devoured on camera with lots of blood and gore. OM NOM NOM.

Chao Feng also freaks the fuck out, but is saved by Mu Tian Ming. When Chao Feng asks why, she's like, "I dunno, seemed like a good idea at the time". beautiful cinnamon roll, too good for this world, too pure.

Instead of thanking her, Chao Feng yells at Tian Ming for taking Lang away and says it's all her fault; Tian Ming does not slap her across the face, but says that that might be true if Lang came here by chance, but she thinks he has a purpose. AND SHE'S RIGHT.

I hope Chao Feng has a redemption arc, but I fear for the worst for Lang and Tian Ming and everybody else as soon as she finds herself on more solid ground. (you just know Azibelpher will LOVE her scheming little mind)

The Order of the Divine Swarm arrives at Azibelpher's castle and Ba Wang Yu decides to storm the gates while Hua Wu Zong turns invisible and slips inside in the chaos. Lin, disguised as Piao Miao, opts to wait outside and watch.

this pays off when Xing Hai shows up with Lang and he immediately switches back to his normal form to surprise them.

Lin immediately picks up that Lang is part demon (the horn kinda gave it away, lol) and turns him temporarily invisible so he can sneak into the castle. He then turns his attention to charming exposition out of Xing Hai and plays her like a damn fiddle.

elsewhere, Ansaato is skittering around the Demon Court on his little insect legs (complete with sound effects) and is pissed that Azibelpher is early for their meeting (and apparently in the flesh???)

the other nobles show up, including Parasol Lady my beloved, but unfortunately, we don't get a good sense of their personalities in their brief back and forth. Other demons include: Covid Safety Protocols (wears a mask); Megamind (turban, big head); and Blue Enforcer of the Status Quo. I thought Megamind was going to be an evil advisor based on his character design, but he's just a guy, I guess??? At least there's nothing much to distinguish him here.

the demon king is a shadowy figure hidden behind a screen and HMMM THAT SEEMS FAMILIAR WHERE HAVE I SEEN THAT ONE BEFORE, but he's got a new VA, so he's probably not somebody we already know. Probably.

(can you tell I'm still scarred from last season's reveal, lol)

turns out that the statue macguffins are seals that allow you to summon demon gods if you get a quorum (4). There are 8 total, one for each demon noble and the king.

everybody is freaked out that Jia Li is dead and her seal is missing. Azi plays innocent, lol.

Lin finds all this out from Xing Hai, so he'll probably start collecting them now because thieves gonna thieve. Lang is also collecting them, but he's the only one at this point who doesn't know what they do, and this is probably all part of Azi's plan to awaken the demon gods and start the War of the Fading Dusk in earnest.

[look, if you put a sleeping demon god in the first episode, it had damn well better wake up by the last episode, I'm just saying].

also Lin has decided to torment Xing Hai by speculating he might be a demon, too because he's not affected by the demon realm the way a normal human should be.

he's trolling, obviously, but it's funny because he uses the same phrase Shang does: "no matter what anyone chooses to call me, it doesn't matter because I know who I am"

I've said this before and I'll say it again: Shang and Lin are opposites, complements, parallels, and foils, and also archetypal, and this extends to their backstories as well, which means it's unlikely that we'll see parents for either of them.

Xing Hai is objectively speaking a terrible person but I feel so bad for her because her shitty kind-of ex being a demon would solve a lot of problems for her because demons are supposed to be shitty to each other. So she's actually really into this, and while nothing Lin says is an outright lie, it certainly isn't the full truth.

{Xing Hai being in love with Lin is mostly subtext in the show itself, but it's in the light novel, and also there is a delightful series of social media posts where she fantasizes about what to do with him when he's theoretically under Seven Blasphemous Death's control and one of them is marrying him in a Western-style wedding with Azibelpher as the minister. And even then they're STILL not the most toxic het couple in the show by a wide margin!!!!}

meanwhile, Ba Wang Yu murders everybody and walks into the castle and Lin tells Xing Hai that Azibelpher isn't there because otherwise some would have stayed back to defend their master.

[this is why Azi was at the meeting early, lol]

Cut to Lang Wu Yao wandering around the empty castle, only for Spider to sneak up on him with chains, believing him to be Azibelpher.

.... you know what, he's not exactly wrong, Lang really does resemble his dad and the portraits are everywhere because Azibelpher lives in a gothic castle and has decorated accordingly

I really hope Wasp and Spider team up with Lang since they all hate Azibelpher, because the alternative is that Lang kills both of them next episode and I want to keep them around for as long as possible.

this episode is so fucking funny and I laughed so hard, twenty minutes just FLEW by, can't wait for next week

[synthe4u]

.cod #5

A/N: I INTRODUCE MY 'DREAMS' aka my writings that would only make sense if I was dreaming (they're not actual dreams)

This will include misspelling, missed punctuation, military inaccuracies, etc. This is not meant to be serious writing. It's more of a hit and run; confusion and never gonna get back to you. i have warned you.

masterlist

No man left behind, but what if Y/n did get left behind. An accident? Or maybe on purpose

“S-shit, guys!” “Evac landing” “Ghost, shit,” they coughed through the smoke. “Fuck damnit,” a few shots went through the air. Nicking his arm but going through his leg. Y/n fell onto one knee, “Ghost! Soap! Anyone?!” They called out for help but none came. They tried their comms but it was broken. No one was coming “Evac now leaving” They looked up to try and see the heli leaving but no sight of it, there was too much smoke.

-

“Hey, guys, where’s Y/n?” Soap asked, the heli was already halfway to base. The guys looked around the aircraft and had no sign of him. They knew he wasn’t in the body bags, they checked each one for enemies. Last time an enemy came through a body bag and nearly leaked their information when they came back to base.

-

You pull out a cigarette, lighting it. Getting mesmerized by the lighter before putting it away. You blew smoke out and looked around.

“Goddamn, this is some good weed” “Got any to share?” Someone was nearby. “Got a penny?” You didn’t care if it was an enemy, your men had left you whether it was on accident or purpose. I mean I know you had your fits with the pilot here and there but it wasn’t that bad.

“I have a euro” “It’ll do”

The person came closer and you got a better view of them. They wore a mask covering their mouth and nose.

“Heyo” “Pass the weed?”

You passed them the stick and they pulled down their mask. There was a scar on their left cheek.

“How’d you get that one?”

The man puffed out the smoke, “that is some good weed. Get what?”

“The scar,” you pointed to your own cheek

“Oh, some guy pulled a knife on me on the street” “Some short story that was” “Haha.” “What are you doing here?” “I’m here to collect the bodies” “One man?” “My team is lazy” “What don’t you kill me?” “You gave me good weed, a hard thing to get out here.” “Would’ve never thought”

The man offered to pull you up out of your sitting position. You grabbed his hand, and yall just stood there.

“Where to now?” “Up to you, I already collected all the bodies” “Do you wanna walk around?” “In a war zone where many have died? Sure” “When you say it like that, it makes it seem bad” “Isn’t it bad?” “It is.”

You both walked around encountering other people who were chill with you being there even though you were their previous enemy.

“Y’all make it seem like y’all are gonna come and stab me when I’m not looking” “Why?” “The kindness is a little much for me”

They go out to hug you and you try to pull away

“Hey! Let go!” “You just need some affection” “I don’t wanna be fuzzy” “Too bad”

Meanwhile as Y/n made a new friend, The base

The boys were down because they lost a friend. He was likely KIA but they didn’t find their body so they’re labeled as MIA.

A call suddenly rang through the base. No one called unless it was important plus not many knew the number to the phone. So it was weird

Price went to answer it, “Hello?”

“Hey Price, so funny story I’m living life rn, like actually. I’m at a resort with these people and it’s like oh my gosh. Can I stay?”

“Y/n?” Price was confused and shocked “Yes captain?” “You’re alive?” “Yes captain”

Soap being. The nosey body he is was listening to the conversation and told the others in the room that y/n was alive. The others were shocked as well to know they were alive.

Soap also told them he was staying at a resort.

Gaz heard that and replied, “What?!” He threw his hands up, “they said they would go with me!”

Soap also told them you wanted to stay but Price said no.

Y/n being lazy told them to come pick them up in a fancy car to make it seem like they’re rich.

Y/n exchanged numbers with the people he was with and told them he was leaving. The others were down of course but knew that y/n would return next time he had his leave as what he had said.

[narrators-journal]

Would 17 and 30 Ryomina be okay? Recently found your works and loved how you wrote the pair in the 2022 kinktober asks!

I’m so glad you enjoy how I write Ryomina! Also, just. Fuck yeah! Love getting to write for my number one favorite persona ship (Tatsujun’s a close second btw)! And, I hope this is satisfactory and is some sort of improvement from the earlier kinktober works for these too. Good and sadistic or masochistic, as well as including enough knife for some good ol’ knife kink! I tried, and I think this is a good balance with my ever sought after variety lol. Though, I will warn ya, this one might be a tad...gorey? Or, like, bloody. It’s a bit bloody for sure. Sorry if that’s too far, feel free to ask for another kinktober work if u want a redo or smthn, lol. (I also just love getting kinktober asks, they’re very fun)

Kinktober prompt list: Here

Kinktober masterlist: Here

CW: Blood is spilled, knife kink is to blame lol. Minato’s also kind of sadistic, and Ryoji’s definitely a masochist here. The usual freebie teratophilia/monsterfucking energy, blowjobs, also! Just a general warning for spoilers for persona 3, and morbid dialogue relating to animals. Nothing zoophilic, just dark.

Minato smiled as he balanced his knife on the chest of the beautiful man beneath him. The tip of the blade dug into his pale flesh by the weight of the blue-haired senior’s hand on the hilt, Ryoji’s refreshingly blue eyes locked onto the blade, even as he laid back on one of his many pillows with his swept-back, chestnut hair a bit of a mess around his round, pink-tinted face. “Y’know, Ryoji, when you said you wanted to give me a graduation gift, I didn’t expect this to be what you meant.” He hummed, the shirtless man only able to give an awkward, “I...um, I mean, you did always say you wanted to mark me up? So, happy graduation! Sorry you missed it! Go crazy, as an apology!” while he laid on his circle-shaped, pillow-covered bed. A small chuckle a failed attempt to cover the way his eyes were wide with a melancholy mix of nerves, guilt, and arousal. “You sure? If you’re scared of the knife, I won’t use it.” the wildcard hummed flatly, even as he lifted the blade away from the bead of blood that formed where the sharp point of the knife had dug into him.

Which, was probably a good idea, as Ryoji gave an honest, hearty laugh that shook the blue-haired man who straddled him in his boxers and one of the brunette’s button-ups. “Aw, Funeral lily, that’s cute. But come on, we both know what I am now, right? A kitchen knife isn’t going to do anything to me.” He reminded, which was a green light for a darkly trouble-making grin to spread across the midnight-haired man’s fair face before he tossed a leg back over the brunette’s body to instead climb off of the bed. The confused look the move earned responded to with a small smile.

“Great! Then I’m not wasting anymore time. Get on your knees, Mochizuki.” He ordered, the weapon in his hand used to gesture to the bright yellow sunflower carpet that was only one of the many pops of color that the immortal brunette used to brighten the gothic architecture of his bedroom. “Wait, but, I thought you’d, y’know, want to mark me? Or, well, at least try, since I don’t really scar.” Ryoji asked even while he moved to do as he was told. And, his point was hard to argue, since the small bead of blood Minato had gotten with the tip of the kitchen knife was already a scab. But, that did little to dissuade the eager excitement already in the wildcard’s blood. “I will, don’t be impatient you slutty pincushion.” He snorted with a pat to the man’s head once he was obediently on his knees in front of him, “But I haven’t had sex in literal years, so now that I can walk around, I’m going to take my time and enjoy this.”

And, while that explanation made Ryoji blink up at Minato with a bit of surprise in his blue eyes, all it took was a small nudge from the flat of the kitchen knife to silence any further conversation or inquiries.

So, instead, the tall brunette obediently set to work on freeing the man’s erection from his boxers so that he could start the foreplay before he got stabbed. First, with almost tentative swipes of his warm tongue at the base of the wildcard’s dick. Slowly trailed up his length with low moans to encourage him. Then, when Ryoji got to the tip, gentle, ghostly kisses. Which, he lavished onto the head of Minato’s cock until a bead of precum could be lapped away. “Fuck, Mochi...I see you haven’t fallen out of practice…” The wildcard joked while he watched the brunette’s thick lashes fall over his eyes at the taste of the salty fluid. But, Ryoji didn’t respond to the small jab, he just took him into his mouth to begin a gentle amount of suction that earned a louder moan.

Finally, he began to bob his head slowly. More of Minato’s length taken into the warmth of his mouth with each movement, just enough suction added when he pulled back to quicken the wildcard’s breaths, and his tongue kept to the underside of his cock for extra stimulation as a swift reminder of why the brunette had been such a swift hit with the girls of Gekkoukan

Yet, that night wasn’t a usual night. Because, if it were any night before Minato’s coma, it would’ve taken more than Ryoji’s playful, patient pace to infect the blue-haired wildcard’s head with a feral voice that urged, Fuck his face. Slam into his mouth, it’s not like he can suffocate on your dick. Even if that WOULD be insanely hot. And, on a normal night, Minato wouldn’t have had a knife to keep at his lover’s neck. “God damn it…” Minato muttered to himself, his eyes closed so he could relish the moist warmth of the tongue his cock sat on, Ryoji’s nose now buried in his pubes so that the brunette could huff whatever musk the wildcard had. Before, after a long moment, he pulled away and let his member go with a soft pop of his lips. “You doing okay, Funeral lily? You want me to- Woah!”

Ryoji’s question died in the air when Minato firmly pressed the point of his knife into the dip where the brunette’s throat met his shoulder. “No! No, I don’t want you to stop, why the hell would I want that?!” He snapped, teeth barred at the reaper as his knife drew a new bead of blood that swiftly trickled down along his collar bone. “I-I was just checking! You were breathing very fast, I didn’t want you to pass out or something,” The brunette explained, his sapphire eyes wide as they watched the silver glint of the blade. “I won’t fucking pass out, fuck you.” Minato snarled while his cock twitched in impatient agreement. Though, his ill temper, naturally, didn’t deter or scare the brunette sat before him. Which, while Minato understood, still irked him a bit.

There was simply something annoying in the way that Ryoji moved his eyes to look up at him, the affection and lust that had shamelessly filled his eyes from their first interaction slowly dulled by the return of his guilt, any hint of fear squashed by a hint of regret that snuck in the moment the brunette no longer had a dick to focus on. Which, honestly, might’ve been the real reason Minato’s lip curled down at the man in that moment, aside from the simple irritation that came from the lack of sexual release.

So, he soothed his own anger with a quick slash at Ryoji’s neck with the kitchen knife. Done to earn a yelp, and rekindle the pink blush that had faded from the brunette’s cheeks, but, also to stir up a darkly sadistic joy in Minato as well. The masochistic pleasure that washed away the guilty shine enough to return Minato’s less malicious, lascivious enjoyment while he watched the gash heal itself shut. Only to jab the tip of the knife into the cut just before it could completely heal. “You were serious, huh? You’re really just gonna let me go crazy on you with a knife?” He asked, the dark lust that filled his words almost enough to shake the wildcard, if he hadn’t been too horny to care about his own moral standing. “Uh-huh…” Ryoji panted out, which got a raised eyebrow as he continued, “Like I said...not like you’ll kill me, so. It’s just kinda hot, not scary.” “Why? I mean, other than the masochism of it, I guess.” Minato hummed, the tip of his knife slowly drug across the man’s offered throat to create a new wound and let more thick blood spill down his chest. “Be…” The reaper’s voice was even weaker when he spoke that time, his head lolled back, lust glazed over his eyes like a layer of ice over a pond in winter. “Because...You’re no threat to me. So, you trying to be, is...cute. Like...like a fox trying to intimidate a hunter’s gun.” And, the morbid reason made Minato snort a bit before he pulled the knife out of Ryoji’s throat to let him heal. “Well, that’s good, I suppose. Now, open your mouth.” He abruptly ordered, though the reaper’s obedience enough to make his cock twitch once more.

So, with his lover’s arousal in mind, and his own impatience just beneath the surface, the wildcard grabbed Ryoji’s swept back hair and pushed himself back into his mouth. Though, he didn’t bother with a slow, or really even compassionate pace. Ryoji Mochizuki was Death, he could take a dick being shoved down his throat for a few moments.

Which, Minato took advantage of to fuck into the man’s mouth while one hand was kept tangled in his slicked back hair. Though, the tall brunette made no move to stop the harsh treatment. Instead, he only let out muffled whines and moans, kept his tongue pressed against the bottom of his lover’s dick, and his hands on the carpet so that he didn’t jolt to hard while Minato lost himself in the pleasure. Unhindered moans released into the air to dance with the quieter, needier noises of the brunette. The knife kept, as best as Minato could manage through the haze of his desire, at the god’s throat. Any scratches or jabs little more than fuel for the two’s desire.

Until, all too quickly, Minato’s thrusts began to turn as sloppy as his breaths. His thoughts little more than fuck...god damn, fuck… before they were vanquished with the wildcard’s other senses in a blinding blast of white-hot heat.

And, when those senses returned, Minato found himself not on his feet, but crumpled bonelessly into Ryoji’s arms, his head on the taller man’s shoulder while he ran his fingers through Minato’s midnight hair. “What...the hell…” He breathed, his thoughts like sand in his skull, “I...Why am I so tired? Why did that...Did I even orgasm?” “You did,” the brunette assured with a laugh, his tongue swiped over his lips as if to double check that he got it all, “You even managed to get most of it in my mouth before you collapsed.” Minato only able to huff at that last part, his cock only able to weakly twitch in its own complaint, “That’s so embarrassing. I don’t collapse after a fucking blowjob.” He muttered, though the brunette only squeezed him and scooped him up to place him back onto the circular bed. “You also don’t sleep for seven years, funeral lily. Give your libido time to build back up, dear.”

While he spoke, the tall god crawled into bed beside Minato and cuddled up to him despite his continued mutters. Though, while it hurt his ego a bit to admit, the wildcard knew his lover had a point. So, he caved and let the brunette bring out his wings to drape a large, iridescent-black appendage over him like a blanket. “We’re gonna fuck again once I have my breath back, though.” He warned grumpily, with a kiss his only response.

[prince-toffee]

Food and Scars

Pt. 2 of 2

Scars

A cyan doorway opened in Blaze’s bedroom lighting up the dim room. It was the middle of the night, full moon illuminating in the dark lands below. From the doorway emerged two figures. One cat and one hedgehog. To say they were exhausted would be an extreme understatement. Their legs were quaking, about to give out. Both of the heroes were clad in armour, traditional Solian armour, with personalised customised details for each. Blaze sported a purple cape bellowing from her right pauldron. Silver’s suit had hints of cyan paint all across it mimicking the patterns on his body. They were peppered with arrows lodged into their armour. Their armours were dirty and burnt and fractured, some pieces were missing. Their capes torn and tattered. Silver was missing half a quill as a rogue blade had sliced it off during battle. Another one of his quills was still on fire at the tip. Blaze snuffed the dancing flame out between her thumb and pointing finger. She then proceeded to flop onto her bed face first.

The doorway closed behind them. Silver just stood there, wavering from side to side, about to fall down. He was about to sit down on the floor leaning against Blaze’s bed, but Blaze patted a spot on her bed next to her. Silver immediately understood and took his place by her side. Still face first in the bedsheets Blaze’s hand slithered up his leg up to his chest. She scratched it at his chest plate. He once again understood. Silver’s markings lit up bright neon and slowly his armour dismantled and floated off his body. Unveiling his soft fluffy chest fur. Blaze’s hand buried itself within it and combed through it. Her hand eventually made its way up to Silver's cheek. He leaned into it. Closed his eyes, smiling, his markings were burning bright like a blush, they expanded across his whole body, including his face. Her hand explored his soft face, but it stopped. He felt it shake slightly. Silver opened his eyes to see Blaze’s worried face staring up at him. She rose swiftly, closing the distance between them, bringing her face next to his. “B- Blaze? What-“ Her golden eyes fell on his lips, and he suddenly felt like a fire was burning through his body. “Wha- What are you about to-“

“Silver.”

“Y- Yes? Blaze.”

“You have a scar. It runs across your lips, on the left.”

“Oh...” His neon blush faded slightly. His bashfulness faded, but he grew more embarrassed. “Oh, yeah, I think I got it a few days ago. Don't worry it's not infected, I had a healer treat it.” He replied with a smile trying to diffuse her worry. Blaze hadn't seen it as Silver had constantly worn a faceplate over the bottom half of his face along with a helmet to protect his large quills. Blaze had a matching faceplate. Which she took off in that moment.

She ran her thumb over the scar therefore his lips. “It's deep. Does it hurt?

“No, no, I'm okay, I promise.” He gently took hold of her hand.

“Why wouldn't you tell me? Silvy?”

“I don't know, there were more important things happening at the time. We were at war, on the frontlines for eight days! Plus, it's not a big deal, I get worse scars all the time.” As he finished the sentence, he realised he had made a mistake. He could tell from Blaze’s bewildered, almost angry expression.

“What?!”

“Umm.”

“When?! Where!?... Well!? Silver!?” He pulled back, stiffening up. He tapped his pointing fingers together; she began to sweat a little.

“I- I don't know, all the time, all over the place.”

“What do you mean? Silver, expound, explain! Immediately.”

Silver stammered, attempting to avoid eye contact, “Well, I timetravel to apocalyptic future timelines all the time; there are monsters, robots, dangerous landscapes. I get scraps and scrapes here and there, now and then. And then there's whenever we fight together to protect the Queendom against Eggman or whatever eldritch being he awakens that week. You're by my side most of the time, you never... I don't know, acknowledged it.”

Blaze sat up and scotched over to the grey hedgehog. “Show me.”

“W- What?” His markings began to burn bright once more.

“Show me the scars.”

“Well, alright, well, I mean they're all over the place,” he glanced over his chest, arms, and back, “They’re usually hidden under my fur. I guess the most visible ones are on my hands.” He removed his gloves and gauntlets and showed his hands to Blaze. The circular markings on Silver’s palms pulsated with light. His palm and fingers were covered in cuts and burns.

Blaze took hold of Silver’s hands. “Where are these from?”

“My powers are controlled through my hands, so they're usually under the most strain. I attack with them, block with them, channel my energy through them. Also, I'm sure some of these are paper cuts too.”

Blaze still seemed distressed, “Do they hurt?”

“No, these were a while ago.”

“So, none of them needed dressed?”

“No, the lip scar was the newest.”

“Anywhere else?”

“Yeah, all over.” He looked down over his chest. Blaze retracted her hands and move them over to Silver's chest, she began to comb through the belly fur. As she moved through the fur she found cut after cut. She was too focused on searching for and cataloguing every wound she found to notice that Silver was barely keeping it together. He was shaking. Holding his breath. As if that was going to stop his blushing. His hands gripped the bed sheets at his sides, crumpling them up. Trying his hardest to keep his telekinetic powers under control - as in times of elevated heart rate he'd have an involuntary response of levitating objects around his surroundings. Once when he was a kid, he got so excited about Blaze holding his hand that he accidentally tore the royal greenhouse they were playing in twenty miles into the air, a chunk of earth with it. Now, in his older age he had a greater grasp on his powers, but he did still slip up from time to time. Like right then and there, when Blaze’s hands made their way to his sides just above his hips. He practically forgot to breathe. His irises glitched. His cyan markings lit up in a bright red.

Blaze seemed to have noticed, “Hmm, I've never seen that before.” Her eyes met his as she looked up at him, “Are you alright?” His voice failed him, all he could do was nod and hum. He could swear she smirked, just slightly, and then just as quickly as it appeared it vanished on her face. “Silver.”

“B- Blaze?”

“You're doing it.” It was only then that Silver managed to tear his eyes away from Blaze and noticed that the wardrobes, vanity desk, nightstand, and various other objects were hovering above the floor encased in a cyan outline.

“Oh, s- sorry.” He breathed in and out, attempting to calm down. All the objects settled down on the carpeted floor.

“Excited?” He could almost hear a smile in her voice.

“W- What? About what? Heh, no, no.”

“Hmm.” Without warning, somehow, she managed to get even closer, she sat on his lap and practically hugged the timetraveller, and her arms wrapped around his back which her hands glided across. “There's more on your back.” She remarked looking over his shoulder.

“Uh, uh huh.”

She ran a finger through a gathering of notches on his shoulder blade, “I recognise these ones. Hailstorm of enchanted arrows at the battle of Arachnos. A few arrows got through your barrier. If not for you I would have lost an eye.” She felt his hands land on her back.

“I'd never let that happen.”

“Heh, I know.” She noticed another scar, a long trench, probably a slice from a blade of some sort. “But I don't recognise this one.”

“Ah, Future: DNF-138-15:34pm. A Metal Sonic reactivated while I was scouring an abandoned Eggman base. Moved faster than I could register.”

Blaze pulled back, placing her hands back on his chest, she looked up at him discombobulated, “Silver...” She narrowed her eyes at him, “Do you keep track of every scar? Do you catalogue every scar?”

“Well... yeah, I guess so.”

“This one?” She pointed to a mark on his belly.

“Future: CFA-276-17:28pm. Concealed dagger, Fang The Wolf.”

“The dark patch near the spine.”

“Future: SCM-889-09:54am. Sneak attack, Surge The Tenrec.”

“The burns on your sides and up your back, are those from Surge too?”

He paused at that one. “... No... Y- You don't remember?” Blaze didn't understand. “Ninth birthday. Birthday party. Ryan Dylanger. Royal castle garden. You were nine, I was eight.” Blaze narrowed her eyes, she didn't recollect facing a villain at such an early age. Ninth birthday… ! ... The synapses in her brain fired up. She realised something horrifying.

“Oh, lord,” She remembered, “It’s- It's me, isn't it?”

“Yeah. It was your birthday party, Ryan Dylanger tried to kiss you, and you knocked his front tooth out.” Blaze sighed and buried her face in his patch of chest fur. Shame and guilt gript her as those deeply repressed memories returned to her.

When the Princess was younger she had... let us say; Troubles controlling her powers. Her pyrokinesis had always been a difficult challenge to overcome. It often felt like instead of controlling it, it controlled her. That fire within her was alive, unpredictable, hungry, and gluttonous, with the power to spread and consume all it touched turning it all to dust and ash. She was always afraid of her powers, of hurting others. When her powers had manifested, she had isolated herself from everyone, any kids her age, out of fear. Even occasionally ignoring Silver in the corridors. It was lonely, but it was for the best. She often snuck out to The Castles Vault at night and pleaded to The Sol Emeralds for them to take the power away from her. But they never did.

Her mother, the stern and cold Queen Ember had often told young Blaze that it was The Sol Emeralds themselves who had gifted Blaze with her fire, at birth, and that she had a responsibility to master it and utilises it as a tool to protect their Queendom, and to smite those who opposed them. It was of course her mother who had hammered the lesson of discipline into her over and over again. Taught her how to suppress her emotions and through that leashing her abilities and allowing her to channel them effectively. It's so the Blaze we all know now was born.

But her father, King Sear, was a far kinder and warmer soul. He proposed that suppressing Blaze’s emotions was not the right path forward, that it was unhealthy for her. Claimed that the fire could only be correctly utilised with open emotion, not as a tool, but as a friend. The Sol Emeralds asked for respect from their wielder and guardian. It was him who pushed for Blaze to meet with more kids her age, to open up to others. All he wanted was for his daughter to have a normal life.

Unfortunately, the King passed away when Blaze was still young, never had the chance to guide his daughter into any brighter path. And she missed him, she missed him dearly. All that emotion boiling just under her skin, until it was unleashed at the birthday party. It was all too much to handle, the little cat burst into tears, and her skin burst into flame. She covered her face and crawled up into a foetal position, a cyclone of flame swirled around her, burning the garden around her. All the guests had scattered. Some of the castle guard attempted to get closer, but the heat was too much, they were getting burns from metres away. Gardon was the one who got the closest. He pleaded to young Blaze, hoping his voice would soothe her anguish, but the flames had consumed her whole, she couldn't hear the voice of the only father she had left through the roaring of the fire. The guards had to drag the elder koala away before he could suffer from heatstroke. The panic and sorrow in Blaze’s heart faned the flames. But as the guards retreated, they noticed a figure that wasn't retreating. A small boy, his fur a greyish white.

With a pout of determination on his face. A cyan aura surrounding him, Silver charged into the flames. His psychokinetic shield he created over himself managed to protect him from harm, but even through it he could feel the immense heat. Silver wasn't stronger than Blaze, he never believed that he was. Her flames burned through his energy fast, the force was pushing him backwards. But he would not give up, he pushed forward and up to the hovering Blaze. He screamed her name. He cried her name. The boy eventually made it to the fiery cyclone Blaze was encased in. He placed his palms against the constantly shifting form of the tornado. Even through his barrier he felt the stinging. But it didn't matter to him. He pushed forward. He slowly began to breakthrough into Blaze’s firey cocoon.

She needed him. He had to help. Not because he thought he needed to stop her from hurting people. But because his friend needed him. His friend was scared and alone. And in that moment, she needed a friend more than ever. And so, the stinging didn't stop him. “Blaze!” He cried. She heard it. She turned to the hedgehog, her hands uncovering her face, unveiling her pure white eyes, with no pupils, with an orangey red outline. As well as that, her whole body was littered with markings much like his, stripes glowing in a neon orange light. She panicked; the tornado grew.

“No, no, no, no, Silver, you're not supposed to be here! You need to leave before I hurt you. Before-“

“You won't, it's okay.” He smiled his silly smile. He embraced her in a warm hug. Shock permeated through her whole body. “You can't hurt me.” His hug only tightened as he spoke softly to her. She quickly hugged back, wrapping her arms around his back. She buried her face in his shoulder. The fire soon faded away and the two slowly descended to the earth still in an embrace. They touched down on the charred grass. Silver promised to clean up, to quell the Queen's rage about the damage on the castle grounds. That spotted eventually became his own personal garden where he spent most of his days, with Blaze often helping to tend to the flowers and vegetables at his side.

Back in the present, on the bed Blazes eyes suddenly began to notice more and more burns across Silver's body. There were more burns. There were more. “By the Emeralds. I did this. All of this. I did this to you.” She began to shake.

Silver took hold of her hands to steady them. “No, no, no stop that. You couldn't hurt me.”

“But I did. All these burns, they're all from throughout our childhood.”

“I don't blame you for anything. I love you all the same.”

“But how could you?! I've hurt you so much. Why would you ever want to be around me?”

“Because you're my friend. You're friendly, kind, compassionate, strong, pretty, you have always been there for me all my life, protecting me, you played with me, fixed me up, if not for you your mother would have tossed me out onto the street. You stood up to bullies to protect me. You make me feel safe, like I have a safe home to come back to after experiencing all the horrors the future holds. Blaze, you're my anchor. You have done so much for me, and I always feel like I never do enough for you. All your life you struggled with this power, this great burden. This burden that you've been dealing all on your own, I know you feel like you’re alone. I know how that feels. But I'm here to show you that you're not. You struggle so much; I just want to help you carry the weight of the world. You could have left me, considered me not worth your time, but you didn't. And I'm never going to leave you to deal with this alone. You never scared me or hurt me because you could never truly hurt me.”

“Oh, Silver.” She bowed her head avoiding eye contact, “You're so naive.” She smiled slightly. “I have constantly told you that you do not owe me anything.”

“I know, but I just want to help. You deserve the world and more.”

“Oh, please I'm hardly as perfect as you describe.”

“You're the best. I would move mountains for you.”

“Oh, stop it. My fire is my responsibility not yours.”

“Yeah, but you always helped me when it came to my power. I want you to know that... I don't know, if you need someone to talk to, to help, I'll always be there for you. I don't know if I want to call our abilities... ‘conditions’, but, you know, we-“

“We are the same.”

“Feel any better?” Silver asked tilting his head down looking for her eyes as he rubbed circles across her back, massaging her.

She was still looking down, not at him, “A little. But-”

“I look up to you, every day. You’re my hero, Blaze.”

Her eyes shifted back to meet his. Both their eyes were slightly watery at that confession. She once again leapt into a hug and buried her face into his chest. He returned the hug, of course. And they stayed like that for a moment; her listening to his heartbeat, while he placed his chin on top of her head and listened to her purr softly.

“Ugh, this is too much emotion for this late at night.” She murmured; her words muffled through his thick fur.

“I'm sorry.”

“Stop apologising... You help a lot.”

That remark made him smile. “You want me to go?”

“No, stay overnight.”

“Want me to do the same?”

“MmHmm.” She simply murmured, getting comfortable on him, ready for sleep. She had a busy day, and an early morning tomorrow. He encased the two of them in a cyan aura, lifting them into the air slightly. He laid down allowing Blaze to lay down on top of him. Using his powers he pulled back the bed sheets and he floated underneath them. And then covered both of them up. With Blaze generating a steady wave of warmth under the sheets the two fell into slumber quickly, but not before Blaze spoke up one last time, “Whenever you get hurt, whenever you get back to me, tell me these things. I don't like you getting hurt so far away where I can’t protect you. Okay? Promise- Just promise me you’ll be safe. Or allow me to come with you, allow me to protect you wherever you go. Okay?”

“Okay.” He pulled off her hair band, freeing her hair, and nuzzling into it.

[skycapt4in-a]

[ 🧨 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s the quickest way to set them off, even if they hide it well ?

[ 🗡️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is a scar that they have but never talk about ?

[ 🎀 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is their main love language ?

HEADCANON QUESTIONS / @manaborn

[ 🧨 ] . . . See the thing is, I know I say he's really scarily good at hiding his emotions from all his Guild training, but the thing is he was never really able to fully put a lid on his temper, so there are a few things that can set it off and it's mundane things like people being stupid and the consequences affecting him, or missing a deadline on a high paying contract because of his own hubris.. and also his own hubris.

But that isn't the fun answer, the fun answer is: Don't talk about or ask about Torrent until he brings the topic up in conversation. It's been years since his death by this point but the wound still feels raw and open to him and he's still very angry over his death despite the fact that he got revenge on Torrent's killers. Revenge, not closure. It didn't help that his other brother still blames and hates him for Torrent's death. Raz is the only one who said it out-loud to him, everyone else was sympathetic and tried to help him, but Noah, in his incredibly healthy ways, latched onto Raz'nar's words instead until he believed them wholeheartedly. There's a few reminders of Torrent's presence around Shi'p that Noah never had the heart to put away or get rid of, his room is sealed off but the little sign outside the door that displays who the room belongs to still has Torrent's name on it. His axe is down in one of the cargo storage areas, just sitting out in plain sight for anyone to see, and there's a few pictures of the whole crew, including the big guy around Shi'p too. Little things, except the axe. It's massive.

[ 🗡️ ]ㅤ It's the ones that litter the right side of his torso, back, leg and under the arm. There's too many of them to count, those parts of him look like he was viciously attacked by one thousand angry paper sheets or was standing too close to a large sheet of glass that was violently flown through by his spaceship when she was breaking him out of prison. Shi'p made a slight miscalculation on where she would stop when she lost enough momentum after smashing through the prison walls and it almost killed Noah <3 She's still sorry about it to this day. But he doesn't like those ones, there's too many of them and believe it or not he doesn't tend to openly brag about his michief and antics unless he knows the people around him are safe, and those scars are very hard to explain away and have it not sound like a lie. It was also one of the few instances where he was actually very close to dying that stuck with him and reminded him that while he runs around with folks who are tougher than him, that he is still a squishy lil human.

[ 🎀 ]ㅤ i answered that over here :D i am in fact too lazy to copy/paste the answer <3