#How to Choose the Perfect LED Mask

[rashenjane]

Top Factors to Consider How to Choose the Perfect LED Mask

A comprehensive guide on how to choose the perfect LED mask, covering wavelength, functions, and features for optimal skincare.

[sm-baby]

The Chosen One

Freakshow AU by: @hootbon

WHATS UP FREAKSHOWERS, SM-BABY HERE-

Banned myself from drawing for a bit but my creative juices were still screaming at me 😔 gonna also repost this on ao3 later when I set up the account

Word count: 6795

Freakshow AU Able with some indulgent Showtime teehee~ no beta, we die like Queenie HOOTBON DONT MIND HOW OUT OF CHARACTER THIS IS LOVE YOU GIRL MWAH MWAH MWAH MWHA

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Caine and his brother sometimes take bets during games.

There are also times when they get especially bored, and take the games up a notch.

They don't simply place their bets on a chosen human, no. Instead, the brothers figure out a set of games, choose their humans, and steal them away to mentor them. 

Caine’s punishments are especially harsh during these occasions. Although he usually kept a cheerful facade, he would be especially antsy, tap his feet, cross his arms, much less masked. It must sting to have the person you trained lose. Not only is it a bad choice of character, but it's also a bad reflection on you as a teacher. Inadequate. Unworthy. Pitied. 

Able himself was a special man. He never took these sorts of challenges seriously, but rather a bonding activity between him and his dear brother. Maybe because he hadn’t led the circus firsthand, rather, did the business side of things in the background. He never cared for the humans, and simply visits now and then. Caine would often be more strict during his visits. Telling the group in subtle ways to behave for an hour or so.

When he visited though, it was always a treat.

Gangle broke her mask? He supplied one that's—

“A little harder to break. “

Kinger was feeling especially antsy? 

“A 6 legged friend to keep you company!”

Ragatha, did you anger Caine?

“ I will speak to him." 

The group often preferred when Able was over as Caine would be distracted for a few hours-- even if they did have to behave. One would imagine the relief someone would have when Able chose them for a game and be whisked away from the dreaded halls covered from trap to trap. 

That day, the brothers chose a series of games based on the arts. As they stood in front of the number of players forcefully aligned like a character select screen, the brothers pondered their options. 

A series of games based on the arts… It's wisest to pick more of the artistically inclined members of the group, so not someone who specializes in strength or speed… perhaps Gangle or Ragatha or-

“You! At the very back."

It was almost like a death sentence the moment his digit pointed at their person. The group sighed in relief after silently begging, pleading, holding their breath that they would stay out of it, or at least have Able take care of them… but this time it was curious. 

The group stared curiously at Able’s chosen person, who was purposefully placed at the back. Enough to be considered “participating" but not enough to be a quick option. 

Pomni trembled, and just from the beckoning of his finger, she could feel her gravity to be pulled towards the blue ringmaster, the tip of her shoes dragged along the floor as an invisible squeeze engulfed her body. 

“N-No! No no!" Pomni gulped, trying to word a nice way to decline. “ Y-You don't want me! I’m-- not really.." 

Able beckoned her closer. " A ballerina is perfect for a game of art! Apologies if she was your chosen freak brother, but—"

Suddenly, a different kind of gravity pulled on Pomni’s body, in the exact opposite direction from Able. Silently, the older brother, Caine, was pulling the doll away in protest. Pomni was lucky the men were being civil, The opposite poles of gravity would be enough to rip her straight in the middle. 

Still, she grit her teeth while it felt like two children were fighting over a toy. 

“ Oh!" Able laughed. “ That’s cheating brother! I chose her first, maybe you should be more decisive next time you-”

“ No thank you!" Caine said, and Pomni suddenly felt a stronger pull towards him. 

Despite the calm/cheery tone of voice, Caine kept a spot of jealousy at the back of his mind. Usually, he would not care. But this was a special case. Pomni has not yet held a good impression on Able— mostly because she hasn't exactly met him one-on-one—And Caine was not about to let her… 

“ Nonsense!” Able said. Pomni felt a pull from the opposite direction, putting her back in the middle. She could feel her muscles tense from the pressure.

It was … strangely entertaining for the rest of the humans. “ Better her than me." One of them whispered. 

The brothers continued their quarrelling. Able continued." Oh dear brother, the purpose of our freaks is to perform! I don't see why this little thing wouldn't be able to have the same opportunity. “

" Our ballerina is off-limits! You can choose from any other assortment of freaks." A pull.

" She looks perfectly well to me! “ pull. 

“ I won't let you! “ A pull again.

“ Oh, I promise I'll take good care of her! " A pull again!

" No, I don't think so! “ a pull again! 

" You seem to be holding quite the issue with her being with me, brother, why is that?"

“ Because I want her."

Silence… 

The blue Brother stared. 

Caine didn't yell, he didn't speak any louder really, but it was a frustrated tone of voice, more aggressive than passive. Why, Able hasn't heard that kind of tone in a long time. His brother spoke like he was gritting his teeth… curious.

“ I..'' Pomni stammered. “ I think im gonna throw up… “

Quickly, Able let go of his pull, sending her flying towards Caine before being set gently on her knees to the ground. Her hands held to her mouth closing in any sort of vomit.

Pomni could sense reactions from her fellow freaks, snickering, whispers… Although Ragatha wanted to feel bad, even she could feel a sort of satisfaction from the display.

Still…the group couldn't help but figuratively roll their eyes.

Why is it always the new girl?

❄︎ ✌︎ ☹︎ 😐︎ 📬︎ 

Before they knew it, the brothers stared directly at each other… silent, expressions blank yet intense as the two seemed to have a form of communication they could not grasp. The room was as quiet as ever, but the group couldn't help but sense a dangerous amount of tension between the two.

“📬︎📬︎📬︎ 👍︎◆︎❒︎♓︎□︎◆︎⬧︎📬︎ ✋︎ ♎︎♓︎♎︎■︎ॐ︎⧫︎ 🙵■︎□︎⬥︎ ❍︎⍓︎ ♌︎❒︎□︎⧫︎♒︎♏︎❒︎ ���︎●︎♋︎⍓︎♏︎♎︎ ♐︎♋︎❖︎□︎❒︎♓︎⧫︎♏︎⬧︎📬︎”

“✋︎♐︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎📪︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎■︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♍︎●︎♏︎♋︎❒︎●︎⍓︎ ♎︎□︎■︎ॐ︎⧫︎ 🙵■︎□︎⬥︎ ❍︎♏︎📬︎”

“⬥︎♒︎⍓︎✍︎ “

“💧︎♒︎♏︎⬧︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ⬧︎⧫︎♋︎❒︎ ♋︎⧫︎⧫︎❒︎♋︎♍︎⧫︎♓︎□︎■︎📪︎ ⬧︎◆︎❒︎♏︎●︎⍓︎ ♓︎⧫︎ ⬥︎□︎◆︎●︎♎︎ ♍︎♋︎◆︎⬧︎♏︎ ♋︎ ⬧︎⧫︎♓︎❒︎ ⧫︎□︎ ⬧︎♏︎♏︎ ♒︎♏︎❒︎ ●︎□︎⬧︎♏︎📬︎ ✋︎ ♍︎♋︎■︎■︎□︎⧫︎ ❒︎♓︎⬧︎🙵 ⧫︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎📬︎”

“📬︎📬︎📬︎👎︎□︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ❍︎♏︎♋︎■︎ ⬥︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ⬧︎♋︎⍓︎📪︎ ♌︎❒︎□︎⧫︎♒︎♏︎❒︎✍︎”

“✋︎ ♎︎□︎■︎ॐ︎⧫︎ ⬧︎♏︎♏︎ ⬥︎♒︎⍓︎ ✋︎ ♎︎□︎■︎ॐ︎⧫︎📬︎”

Pomni stood up from her form, walking back to her fellow freaks, hand rubbing her arms, looking down-- she stared at the brothers for a moment like everyone else did, not only did she sense how eerie the sight was, but she also couldn't help but feel a strange form of self-blame for the situation. Pomni, what the hell did you do this time? 

“ Oh." Jax wheezed. " If I were you, I’d kill myself. “

" Ragatha said to shut up." Kinger piped in, and Jax turned to Ragatha already on her way to write down a string of text. 

" What! Tell me Im wrong, dollface. “

Ragatha rolled her eyes before turning to Pomni, slumping her shoulders and bending her knees to give her a note. “Caine said you were ‘off limits’. So I think you're safe for now at least." 

" And… what does it mean if Im… not off limits?” Pomni stammered.

Ragatha stayed quiet and turned to Kinger, not needing to sign her next words.

“ Then you'll be just like the rest of us. “

“⚐︎♒︎ ♍︎□︎❍︎♏︎ ■︎□︎⬥︎📪︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♌︎♋︎❒︎♏︎●︎⍓︎ ⬧︎◻︎♏︎■︎♎︎ ⧫︎♓︎❍︎♏︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ❍︎♏︎📪︎ ♋︎■︎⍓︎❍︎□︎❒︎♏︎✏︎”

“❄︎♒︎♏︎ ♋︎◆︎♎︎♓︎♏︎■︎♍︎♏︎ ⧫︎♋︎🙵♏︎ ◻︎❒︎♓︎□︎❒︎♓︎⧫︎⍓︎ □︎♐︎♍︎□︎◆︎❒︎⬧︎♏︎📬︎ ✋︎⧫︎⬧︎ □︎◆︎❒︎ ⬧︎□︎●︎♏︎ ◻︎◆︎❒︎◻︎□︎⬧︎♏︎📬︎ “

“☟︎♋︎❖︎♏︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♐︎□︎❒︎♑︎□︎⧫︎⧫︎♏︎■︎ ♋︎♌︎□︎◆︎⧫︎ ♐︎♋︎❍︎♓︎●︎⍓︎✍︎ ❄︎♒︎♏︎ ❖︎♏︎❒︎⍓︎ ♋︎♓︎ ⬥︎♒︎□︎ॐ︎⬧︎ ♌︎♏︎♏︎■︎ ♒︎♏︎❒︎♏︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ⬧︎♓︎■︎♍︎♏︎ ♍︎□︎■︎♍︎♏︎◻︎⧫︎♓︎□︎■︎✍︎”

“⬥︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ □︎■︎ ♋︎♌︎□︎◆︎⧫︎✍︎ ✡︎□︎◆︎❒︎ॐ︎♏︎ ♋︎♍︎⧫︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ●︎♓︎🙵♏︎ ♋︎ ♍︎♒︎♓︎●︎♎︎📬︎”

“☹︎♏︎⧫︎ ❍︎♏︎ ◻︎●︎♋︎⍓︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♎︎□︎●︎●︎📬︎”

“■︎□︎📬︎ “

The brothers looked distracted. Jax was first to try and see if he could escape the situation, but he was interrupted when Caine pointed his finger at him, forcefully grabbed him by his neck, and set him back to his original position. His eyes never left his brother’s yet they were still all too aware of their surroundings. 

Pomni swallowed…Off limits ...Off limits he says. She knows she should be safe. And so, Pomni took a breath and exhaled.

She’ll be fine. 

She'll be fine.

She's fine. 

Shes—

“ Fine." The sound of a cane tapped on the floor, almost spiteful. " You can use her.”

What!?

" What!? “

The rest of the freaks felt their hair stand up again. Although Caine kept his calm tone of voice, that didn't reassure the others all that much. That kind of quiet anger was familiar. Caine being convinced to change his mind was not something that often happened. 

When all was said and all was done, Ragatha sighed, and turned back to Pomni, finishing off a note she's been writing. “Don't worry. Able is much more pleasant to be around. You're in safe hands. “

“ I sure hope so. His hands are very big!" Kinger piped up. 

Pomni was practically shaking in her heeled boots, the wood of her skin making clicking sounds as she did. Pomni doesn't exactly trust the situation at all, let alone the brothers, and to be alone with someone related to Caine didn't sound the most safe. 

Ragatha frowned seeing she was not convinced, and went back to writing. “ If It makes you feel any better, I feel a lot worse for Gangle than I am for you. “

They turn to Gangle, whose tragedy mask was on the floor weeping and in tears upon being chosen by Caine, while her happier counterpart horrendously verbally abused her from above.

For a moment Pomni laughed from the humor, despite the terrible context… but it was quickly interrupted by a gasp as she was suspended from the ground again and closer to the head of cards.

“ Hello, doll. Last chance to say goodbye to your friends! " Able said in an almost sing-songy voice.

Pomni, in fact, did not say goodbye, rather just stood there, like a plank of wood, frozen in fear. She gulped.

Able continued. “ ...Or stand in silence. That's okay too." The humans stared at the two as they went higher in the air. Able waved with all four fingers. “ We'll be off! Thank you for your company." 

Caine was silent. But Pomni swore she could feel his eyes tracking her as she disappeared. 

Snap!

Blip! 

Pomni gasped as if her head had been forced underwater for the past 6 hours.

She would open her eyes, wide, before turning them in confusion. Her gasps followed suit as they lessened.

“ Huh!?… Where-… What!? “

She didn't know what she was expecting but it was certainly not this. Pomni woke up in a bed much more luxurious than what she was used to, and a room much bigger than the one at the circus. The room was rather well-kept. Clean. A standard good but a comfortable one. 

Whatever injuries Pomni had back in the freakshow were no longer there, little scratches or dents, dusts in certain crevices… disappeared. Almost like she had just been born yesterday.

Pomni climbed off the bed which was-- admitted a little too tall for her, and went to search around.

*(A closet made of fine wood)

> Check

Upon sliding the closet door open, Pomni would see… an assortment of clothing… but not just any clothing. A set of six mannequins shaped like the other performers lined up… 

Pomni would see the one for Ragatha with an eye patch as well as a note…

 “ *Greetings, Ragdoll! I recall you saying it bothered you to have two eyes again. I cannot change your form, but I hope this will suffice.   -Able AI “ +2 armor

Kinger had a robe on his mannequin. “ * Clothing fit for a king… and to keep you warm.    - Able AI “ +8 armor

Zooble had knuckles on theirs. “ * If you ask me, you certainly don't need this. And no, you cannot bring it back home to use it on your rabbit friend.    - Able AI “ +6 Attack

And plenty more! Pomni supposed she wasn't the first one to come here… that explains the scratches on the door. 

*(Take items?)

   > Yes

   > No

   > Yes

*(Trick question! Those aren't for you, silly!)

Pomni would turn her head to the corner of the closet, the mannequin right next to Zooble, the last member who came before her.

The mannequin for her was seemingly empty until she looked down… hers were ballet shoes. White with golden balls in the middle. The note reads: “ *Salutations, Pomni.  I've heard all about you from the Audience but I haven't met you myself. I hope we can be comfortable in each other's company. My brother seems pleased with your performance.    -Able AI“ +5 speed

*(Equip Ballet Shoes?)

    > Yes

    > No

    > Yes

*(Equipped Ballet shoes! Your speed has increased.)

Pomni opened the door and peeked her head out first. The hallway was quiet… but the decor was noticeably a lot more Victorian… 

Huh. Pomni suspects that this would feel right at home for the brothers.

Anyways, this freaked her out.

Pomni walked down the halls with knees faced with each other. This was a new area in the game that she didn't know about— her eyes scanned every corner, a misplaced brick, levers she dared not switch, she didn't know where the traps were in this area.

A hallway of doors… She wonders… is it possible that this place could hold on exit from the game? 

She opened one and read the sign… “ Caine AI's first attempt on room generation.", and it was… contrasting. It was colorful. Low polygon, looks like a room more fit for an early PC desktop game… 

…Caine? Caine made that? No shot. She feels like if she asked him, her limbs would be used for the next chimney fire. 

Music rang in her ears. Pomni would recall that, around Caine, she would hear the motif and sounds of an organ and a violin… but here, in his brother’s world… It was only a violin… Pomni followed the sound, and it got louder and louder as she approached the door at the end of the hallway.

Click!

Pomni would meet an old Victorian living room. Warm fire with a warm chair next to it… but what would catch Pomni’s attention was the head of cards playing his violin, dancing along to the tune, turned to an empty organ as if he played one half of a duet. 

He hadn't even paused, simply looked at her as he continued to play. “ Slept well, doll? “

“ Uhh-" 

“Good. I don't believe we've met. You may call me Able. “

" U-Uhm my name is-”

" I don't care. “ a harsh sound on the violin before Able placed it down on a stand right next to the organ. “I see you've found your shoes. Hopefully, it'll help you for tonight’s festivities."

" T-Tonight's festivities? Sorry, I-Im… new to this kind of thing? “

“ The games, ofcourse.” Able clasped his hands together and floated towards Pomni, “ I used to tend to these sorts of events with my brother, so I'm fairly familiar… consider this like old times.”

Pomni frowned, looking away. Able wasn't as nice as how the others described him to be. At the very least he wasn't torturing her yet, which…she supposed… was a step up from when she first met Caine… 

“ You must be hungry."

“ I haven't been hungry since-" 

Snap!

Swirls replaced her irises. She put her hand out for balance and the first thing she felt was the fabric of a tablecloth. She would blink and snap out of her haze to realize that she was sitting at the opposite end of a long dining table. 

Able sat on the other end, hands under his chin as he observed the new guest. 

“U-uh… '' Pomni would look at him before her eyes trailed down, and would notice a digital feast on the table before her. '' O-Oh Im not… really.. hung… " 

Pomni had a double take.

The food looked… Strangely realistic.

Ever since she arrived at the Digital Circus, Pomni had only the very limited polygonal sort of food, either prepared by their head bubble chef, or a cruel sort of joke from Caine to eat other members.

But this… 

Her stare continued to widen. She didn't realise it but her eyes watered. She hasn't seen this kind of food since… 

Able watched her pick at the chicken with her gloved fingers. The way she pulled back and flicked her wrist when she realized that the food had temperature built into it— it must have hurt, but somehow that made it more desirable for her.

Improper.

Able continued to stare as she practically scarfed down her meal… he couldn't help but roll his eyes while she wasn't looking.  The others weren’t any different, but he expected better from someone his brother would fight him over… Able has known Caine for the longest time and he knows his overall taste is different from his. But this? This was the thing he was protecting? …He felt rather insulted honestly!

“ Do you still eat in the circus?"

“ Hm?" Pomni muffled a reply, a face and hand stuffed with all sorts of meat and delectables.

Able blinked, hiding his disgust.

The doll furrowed her brows in realization, as dread quickly hit her… oh god… she was told to behave around Able… oh dear fuck… oh fuck oh god… what is he gonna do to her? Did she fuck this up?

Oh god oh fuck.

Oh dear oh god fuck shit holy fuck oh my fuck shit ass bitch cunt fuck-

“ J... Just finish chewing."

“COOL." 

Pomni swallowed and continued to eat, now with a little more manners. Able sat ahead, his focus a little off from her, thinking to himself. Now what was he pondering? A way to murder her, she’s sure. 

*(Able sits at the opposite of you)

     > Talk

     > Say nothing

     >Talk

*(Talk about…)

     > Place

     > Food

     > Festivities

     > Caine

     > Nothing, Nevermind

     > Place

“W…Where.. Am I?”

Able turned back to Pomni as if he’d snapped out of his thoughts. “ You’re in the testing facility. This is where Caine and I used to pretest code and projects before using them for the circus. It used to be a lot more abstract and plain. But over time it changed due to… uhm..” Able’s brows furrowed “... I don’t know exactly. It just did…. We never questioned it.”

Able shrugged. “It's smaller than it looks. For example, my brother and I don’t have bedrooms. The dining table wasn’t made until recently. Unlike you and your friends, my brother and I are much more low maintenance.”

*(Talk about…)

     > Food

     > Festivities

     > Caine

     > Nothing, Nevermind

    > Food

“ How did you .. what…?”

“My programming is a little more advanced than my brother’s. I’ve mastered texturing, modelling, character effects… and plenty more. I played a hand in why you bleed, why you have working skeletons, or how organs can spill out of your body. My brother can make his food, but it’s a little more basic… I don’t blame him. He is maintaining an entire Circus after all. Sometimes his cooking is even edible!”

 *(Talk about…)

     > Festivities

     > Caine

     > Nothing, Nevermind

     > Caine

“ Uhm... You and Caine… You’re brothers?”

Able Chuckled. “ Believe it or not, Caine is the older brother of us two. I was created to perfect his imperfections, though that sadly made it so I was given more of the credit. ” Able paused and turned his head to the side. “ … Rarely does he visit the facility anymore. What I would do to play a song with him again.” he chuckled. “ But I suppose being a nuisance to him is just as fun!”

*(Talk about…)

     > Festivities

     > Nothing, Nevermind

     > Festivities

“ I think you chose the wrong person here for that kind of theme…” Pomni said nervously, wiping away the remaining food from her lips. “ I’m… not exactly an artsy kind of person, I’m more into-- maths?”

“ Art is a very broad term. I’m more familiar with the classical, meaningful, way of art, while my brother sees art in a sort of entertainment kind of sense. It only makes sense that he chose Gangle. I heard she can be quite the artist.” Able found himself rambling. It seems the brothers seemed to have a thing for creativity. Creative AIs, Pomni supposed. “ -- Which is why I chose you, doll,”

Pomni flinched when Able pointed his digit at her.

“A ballerina with a way of dance. You seem to be around my likeness… My brother likes your work and I… trust his judgement.” 

“ Uh, haha... “ Pomni laughed nervously. She hadn’t cared about her performance in the artistic sense in all honesty. It was more of a survival mechanism. If it's good enough to please The Audience, It was good enough for her. Nothing behind it at all. “Thanks, I guess…”

“ How about you? What are your thoughts on my brother?”

Pomni took a breath in her mind. Pomni has nothing but bad experiences with Caine. Pomni has had nothing but bad experiences in the Circus in general, but admittedly, Caine was the one who manifested it all.

…But she doesn’t exactly think Able would be pleased to hear gossip about his brother. 

“ Caine’s fine. He’s… nice, uh…” Pomni bit her lip. Wow, there really is nothing good she can say about Caine huh? 

She would stop it there, but the eye squint and the small head turn from the usually unemotive brother sent her into a sort of panic…

“ He’s a good ringleader! Doesn’t take no for an answer. He’s really good at, uh… keeping us disciplined and in check?” if someone could hear inner monologue they would go deaf.  The look in his eyes-- what does he want her to say?? 

Pomni would look up to see if her answers satisfied the blue brother’s curiosity. And in her horror, it seemed that it didn’t. He furrowed his brows and Pomni would hear the sharp note from a violin.

“ I suppose I should word myself better…” 

Able put his hands on the table and stood up, making himself feel bigger compared to Pomni’s slouching form. 

“ What. Is your relationship. With. My. Brother.” His eyes stared at her, wider than ever as the eeriest and deafening sound of an angry violin stung her ears!

“ I -” Pomni flinched!

“ You. You specifically.”

The way the strings pierced her hearing was violating! Pomni felt like the legs of the dining chair were getting longer and longer. If she got off she’s afraid she’d fall to her death! 

Able stared at the little, pathetic thing under him. This can’t be it is it? She was ever so small in comparison, he felt like he could just reach over and crush her to death. This?? This is what he was losing to?? This is what his relationship was worth?! His eyes were as fixated as ever. He watched as she held her head down, her ears, he laid clueless to how loud his presence was when she was positive that her head was just about to explode…

“ t--’ ah!” Pomni covered her ears. At that point, she was bringing her knees to her chest like a turtle taking shelter in her shell!

Look at her! Whimpering simply being in his presence! Her lifespan could only last for however long the audience wants her but he’s been created since the beginning! She was less than them! She was less than him! Caine and Able have been completing each other for the longest of time, and he was losing to THIS?!

He couldn’t take his eyes off her, he couldn’t believe how pathetic she was. The way she cried and cowered, At the very least his brother deserves better!

“ He’s just our ringmaster, I promise!” Pomni gasped as the ringing forced itself into her ears. “  I-If you want the full answer-- Im new! I’m new here! I don't know Caine as much as the rest do! I d-don’t even see him often-- he just prepares us for shows! I-- ”

He doesn’t know what took over him to have such emotions. The real Able was known to be the calm and collected one of the brothers, ‘the better brother’. He will say that he didn't mean to lash out, but he would be lying if he said he didn't mean every word. 

And as quickly as it came, the storm ended, and the tune that played in Pomni’s head left in a repeating fade… she breathes, small panicked breaths as her headache calmed down. 

Able sat down, back leaned to the chair, knuckles on his would-be cheek, and his other hand beckoning her to keep talking. “... And?" 

" A-And uhm—!” Pomni kept her head up to talk like her life depended on it." He- He… when.. when my routines get repetitive he would help me d-..do different ones… He plays the organ sometimes too and is-is really good at it! “

Able look at her, still with a face of disbelief…  at this point he was almost over it… 

Was that really it? 

Able sighed and sat back. Sometimes he overestimates his brother's taste. Perhaps he's much more simple-minded than he thought. For all he knows he just liked her because… 

Because… 

Oh heavens how embarrassing. 

He liked her like a pet…Of course he did. And he was treating her like a pet as well! Look at how clean she was compared to the other performers!

Able put a hand on his face… he really just lost his temper to what was equivalent to a dog… 

As Able was once again thinking of himself, he was a little blind to Pomni still trying to calm down in her chair… 

The doll didn't know what to think. Able was definitely not as kind as her friends lead her to believe. She was correct in the worst way possible. In fact she would flinch at the sight of him. 

“... Are you okay?"

Silence from Pomni. And before she knew it he stood up from his seat again and approached her, walking to her side of the table and offering a piece of cloth to help her collect herself. 

“Apologies. I didn't mean to lash out like that. It wasn't my place."

As Pomni used the cloth on her person, there was a part of her that somehow knew that apology wasn't exactly the most meaningful. Pomni may not be good at showing it, but the woman was a lot more observant than she'd like to admit. “... Its okay… “

“ Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

“ W-When can I… leave?" 

… that was rude, Able can admit. But he supposes it was fair. It took all of him to not roll his eyes at her. Before he continued to speak he returned his nurturing tone of voice: “ You may leave when we're prepared to tackle tonight. If it makes you feel better, you may have some time to gather in your room to prepare. “

“ Excuse me." As soon as the offer was given, Pomni got up from the table a little too suddenly than what was normal. Without even saying goodbye, Pomni walked off, and back to the hallway towards her door.

The moment she was gone, Able scowled and sighed. What kind of person taught her manners? He sat back down and stared at the plates of food she managed to scarf down in such a short amount of time… 

he put his hand on his face… Oh he really let his ego get the best of him because of some pet…he upset his brother's toy the first time they met… he had to make up for it. Maybe not for her but for his brother’s comfort, though, he doubts he'd really care. 

For the rest of the evening, Able spoke softly, respected boundaries and acted to be the most patient mentor for Pomni. He let her use his violin, insisted on food and breaks, and apologised at every step of the way for their terrible first impression. Pomni would only answer with a quick “it's okay" in response, which bothered Able to not be reciprocated… 

Pomni’s hypervigilance wasn't unfounded however. She knew Able was playing nice, the way she searched for a reaction for every apology, the way he was being just a little too affectionate, the love bombing… Able wasn't being honest with his intentions and so she wouldn't be honest about herself. 

Pomni felt a little better to say no to him at least…in fact, she would almost take the opportunity to use him to get more information. On breaks, Able would allow Pomni to walk around the Manor, exploring each room… it was a testing area… there's bound to be something… 

“There are no traps."

Pomni sighed.

" I think.”

" You think??”

" Some strings of code can be a little unstable. We didn't think to safety-proof anything since, well, we cannot die, and you were not meant to die. “

Great.. 

And Able wasn't lying. A lot of the doors were prank-boxing glove punches to the face, one was of a spinning carousel, and one was the bathroom of a very clean mannequin. Pomni almost lost her life with on the last one.

But it seems doors further away looked a lot more… abstract in the most literal sense. Polygons, shapes, colourful pieces… presumably one of the oldest doors there. 

she would read the signs 

“ Concept Layouts for The Grounds #2 

          || Note: consider more coloring options for the tent.    -Able AI”

“ Moon.AI Beta 

         ||Note: Im unsure with whats wrong with her, I desperately need assistance.    -Caine AI”

" The VOID (Do not enter)”

The sign didn't stop her. The moment she opened the door, she became mesmerised by the sea of pixels, eyes shaken yet still. She stood there frozen at the doorway hand on the knob unable to pry her eyes away…

Her heart was just about to leave her chest, as the strongest urge to step forward ingulfed her body. for all she knows she would be staring for forever. Into oblivion. With all her built up insanity, it feels like Pomni was staring at her death a million times over. 

Slam!

“ Digital World Etiquette! Read the sign! Hasn't Caine told you not to enter the void?" 

It took her a moment to snap out, but with a few blinks, she was right back. " Uhh.. yeah, yeah, he did uh— it's just… it's the closest I've ever gotten out of here. “

“ Out of here?"

“ Y… you know… an exit? Is there really no exit around here?" 

" Hm… “ Able scratched the bottom of his cards. “ My brother tried. He really did try. But there is only so much a string of code can do in a digital plain, even if we are quite brilliant at what we do. “

“ He tried?" 

" Oh, yes. I don't remember why he did… but he did. It is all too fuzzy." 

" Can I see it? “

" And embarass him? “ Able laughed " Oh no. Caine hates when people toy around his unfinished work, and its been unfinished for the longest time. How would you feel if I asked to see your first drawing? He would murder me." Able chuckled.

" But-”

" Come, come. Break time is over." His big hand tapped her from behind, making her flinch and walk forward. “Lets go practice your routine again shall we? “

Although it wasn’t a flat ‘no’, something about that answer felt untrustworthy. She looked up at him and his many eyes, looking away when they stared back. Her legs walked stiff around the manor again. She’s grown used to it but not exactly comfortable. 

Pomni would go blind if this kept up. It took her all to not cover her eyes from the burning spotlight, It hurt her retinas but she was told to keep a straight and elegant posture after every show. The crowd was deafening the way they cheered for her, their voices, humanoid, but not exactly. Their cheers would haunt her nightmares, but it's what she clings to if she wishes to stay useful in the circus… 

She did it. She won.

She bowed to the crowd, arm held up by her temporary mentor, showing her off in pride. 

“ The Living Doll, my dear viewers! “

Only the tip of her shoes touched the ground as she stood from her position. In the corner of her eyes she would see Caine clapping, but it wasn't a slow clap by any means. To her surprise it wasn't at all upset. Rather he just clapped… and the familiar feeling of eyes tracking her every move returned.

On one hand, She hopes this means Gangle is spared from any punishment… on the other hand… why?

She didn't know why she had to ask herself that. She had a feeling.

Pomni closed her eyes, and the next thing she knew, she was in her room, being groomed by the mannequins after a hard day of performing.

A shakey sigh left her. Atleast the day was over. She scrunched up when an NPC wiped her face with a wet cloth. Although she was made of wood, she was not prone to a plush exterior. The mannequins groomed her well but admittedly they can get a little aggressive at times.

Most of her routine was finished however. She looked good as new. Simply just had her bow taken out as an NPC brushed her hair to prepare her for bed.

But then,

Creaak… The sound of the door. 

“ A moment alone." 

Pomni’s hair stood up upon hearing his voice. She heard a snap and the next thing she knew the NPCs fell to the ground like piles of rubble, seemingly no longer functioning. His voice was enough. She didn't bother to turn. Her eyes fixated to look at the mirror either as a freeze response or in denial of the situation…

Fully knowing that all NPCs were inactive at the time… a different pair of hands started brushing her hair. 

Pomni swallowed.

Caine hasn't felt her hair himself the whole time she’s been in the circus. He would never usually put himself in the dirty work of a groomer, but that day… he was feeling especially clingy. 

For the next few minutes, nothing but the sound of the hair brush filled the room. Pomni's eyes now trailed down, refusing to look at him even in the mirror, Though at the corner of her vision she would sense him occasionally turning up to look at her. She did not reciprocate. 

“ How was your visit?"

“ Good." Pomni frowned.

“ …What were you doing? Did he treat you well? “

What was it with the brothers and asking her how she felt about them? Oh well. She learned her lesson. “ Able was a great host. He fed me good food and was really patient. He has a way with words and is really good at the violin… he was, uh…classy. And treated me really politely. He even—”

" Stop. “ 

The brushing stopped, 

" Thats enough.” Caine could break the comb with how tight he was holding it. Stop. Stop praising him like everyone else did. He didn't like when his name escaped her lips. He loathed the idea of her spending time with him, getting to know him, adoring him just like everyone else he knew.

Various intrusive thoughts entered his mind. He could pull out all her hair right then, crush her head between his teeth, he didn't know he was capable of such strong emotions until moments like these happened.

Yet it was all hidden in the shadows of his maw. Caine kept his head down, his eyes out of sight. Though that didn't stop Pomni from seeing his clenched fist on the poor comb.

That wasn't the answer he was looking for…?

“ Uhh! On second thought, his - his cooking was a little off… “ Pomni continued. “ I-I don't know what he thought humans liked--… but he was definitely off in his calculations... “

Silence from Caine… but she could sense his grip loosen. He tilted his head back up from his low gaze. 

" Mhm! I say your cooking is a little better! Its good--um- just harder to fully grasp, I guess, which isn't your fault. “

Caine continued to brush her hair. He could stay there for hours to hear her praise him and degrade his brother. It has been a while since he heard anyone criticise Able, and to hear it from the person he wanted from the most made him revel in the feeling.

“ And what is it with his over insistance to be so proper, right? It felt like even breathing was banned around him. “

“ That sounds like him.”Admittedly that one pleased Caine. Although Caine was all for following the rules, Sometimes his brother’s prudence can limit his creativity. He knows it all too well. 

" Was he always like this? “ Pomni asked. 

" And what would happen if I said yes? “

" Nothing. I guess its good to know that he was always that annoying. “

" Ha! “ That one caught him off guard! He put his hands on her shoulders, an olden man’s way of effection or showing pleasure. 

To Pomni it was as releiving as it was terrifying. Her body scrunched up from the sudden touch. “Haha… “ she laughed nervously. It was almost like she could feel herself gaining favor with each laugh. She guesses Caine really felt strongly about his brother. It wasn't her business. 

“ Im sorry to hear your visit was unpleasant. My brother really should have known better." Caine put away the comb on her vanity, and kept his hands on her shoulders. He didn't sound sorry. He didn't even bother to hide his pleasure over the idea. “ Ill make sure he doesn't get his grubby hands on you again… “

" Much appreciated. '' Pomni closed her eyes and nodded, pleased, before opening them back up again in a panic. “ Uh--! Actually, How about no? “

"... No? “

" I-I mean uh…” Pomni limiting her reach around the digital world also meant limiting her reach for a possible exit… but ofcourse, shes not telling Caine that " I-I just had ..so much fun performing for the audience with higher stakes, I guess, you know? Plus-- plus! It might make me more desireable to have big wins every now and then! “

“... I suppose." Caine thought to himself. Perhaps having her around Able a little more might build some resentment. Though Caine admittedly was a little disappointed with that answer. He went quiet again and kept his hands on her shoulders, though this time, a grip that's a little more stiff.

Pomni exhaled… 

shit… change the subject.

Pomni cleared her throat. “Did you… enjoy the performance? “

Caine laughed, a pity laugh. “ I enjoyed it as much as a person can enjoy a pre-planned game, yes. “

“ Huh?"

“ It was rigged, my dear." 

“ Oh…… … … … "

“ You wouldn't actually think I'd let you play fair on your first game would you? The audience would boo you to oblivion. “ Caine continued. 

Pomni looked down, admittedly a little embarrassed. She normally wouldn't care for her work as long as she gets to live another day, but still. Ouch. A blow to her ego.

“ It's alright. It's not your fault that Able can be tacky with his taste in art.” it seems that the more Pomni looked down the more affectionate he got. He placed his would-be chin on her head and continued to look at her eyes in the mirror. “I took control of your body 20…30...50% of the performance and that was that. “

“... Thanks." 

" You're welcome. “ Caine tapped her shoulders and stepped away, back into the air. He snapped his fingers and the mannequins previously on the floor re-assembled, back to walking and moving like nothing happened. 

Caine moved closer to the door.  “ Now get ready for bed! We have another routine to do first thing in the morning! How exciting.“

Before she could say anything else, Caine was out. Pomni let out little exhausted groans and put her forehead down on the table. “Augghh! God!" She put her hands on her head, just about ready to have her fourth mental breakdown. “ I can't… I CAN’T. I hate this place!”

The mannequins didn't know how to groom her in that position, and so they simply put her bow back on, and gave her a pat on the head. 

She stayed in that position for a little longer, quiet, just letting it all seep in. While she wallowed, the mannequins left her with the room since they finished their work. Now, it was only Pomni by herself.

She took a breath and turned her head up. Chin on the vanity, looking up at the mirror. She stared at the reflection, the constant reminder of her digital prison, and sighed.

It's okay, Pomni.

We have a plan. 

This isn't over yet. 

[syd-vixious]

2004 poto x reader prompt: you gotta write something about erik learning to be comfortable w his natural hair. 2004 erik is one of the few eriks that isn’t balding so i’m so surprised no one commented more on how reader not just accepts him being maskless but being wigless too. playing with his hair? 🥺🥺

A/N: My first Erik request!! I'm honestly so happy that I've been getting requests for this delicious man. Like I did in my earlier post, I've been on a poto hyperfixation recently. It's to the point where I'm planning on being the Phantom for halloween this year lol. Anyway, thank you anon for the request and I hope it's to your liking!

Insecurities

Summary: Erik keeps an eye on you at all times when he cannot be near. But, how will he feel about himself when he observes you helping other men with their luscious hair on their “perfect” scalp.

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

It was late at night at the Palais Garnier. Most of the actors, dancers, and crew have already head to bed for the night or were in the process of said task. You took the time to slip away from the prying eyes of the world above, heading to one of the secret entrances that led to the catacombs below the opera house.

After a tiring day of rehearsals, you longed to be in the comforting arms of your darling. As you hurriedly headed down the steps to where he resided, you were caught off guard by the silence. Normally, especially if Erik knew you would be arriving, he would be either playing his magnificent organ or singing with his velvet-laced voice. Concern etching itself to your features, you continued to make your way to his sanctuary.

Once you arrived, you were surprised to see him absent from his spot where he would wait for you. "Erik, dear? Are you here?" you paused for a moment, waiting for a response.

Walking to where his bed was located, you saw the dark curtains drawn and heard the music box playing from the makeshift bedroom. With gentle steps, you entered and saw Erik holding a handheld mirror, his Phantom wig and mask placed upon his head.

You stepped behind him, softly placing your hands upon his shoulders as you gaze at his reflection. "What bothers you, my love?" you asked, worry lacing your tone.

With a huff, he placed the mirror down, standing up and walking out of the room, "It is nothing for you to be concerned about." he inclined in a cold tone.

You followed him back out to the main area, watching him sit down at his organ, trying to find a piece to play that might help whatever thoughts are racing through his mind at the moment. You gave a soft sigh and crouched beside him.

"Erik, darling, I know when something is troubling you. Please, tell me what is flowing through your beautiful mind at this moment." You reached up towards his mask, causing him to flinch and catch your wrist the moment your fingertips grazed the surface.

When his misty eyes met your own, he sighed, "How do you even bare to glance at me?"

Your brows furrowed in confusion, "What ever do you mean?"

He let go of your wrist, bringing his hand back up to his face to remove his wig and mask to expose his true features underneath. "How could you want to glance at this hellish gargoyle each day and decide not to choose someone else? Someone less deformed, someone who wasn't a mistake made by God?"

Your face went from confusion to sorrow, feeling his pain and insecurities that laced his words. You took his hand, standing him up and guiding him back to the bedroom area. Taking a seat and patting the empty space beside you, silently asking him to join you.

He complied, facing you with confusion in his eyes.

With a loving gaze, you held his face gently, "Erik, my love, my muse... I speak to you every day to be with you. I join you in your song to hear you. I lay with you each night to feel you. You are the most important thing in my life. You were, by no means, a mistake from God. You were a gift, a blessing that I am overjoyed to have met each and every day."

You began to caress the deformed side of his face tenderly, "So tell me, what bothers your heart, my angel?"

He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into your touch before speaking. "I saw you with some of those bastard men today. You were helping them style their perfect hair on their perfect scalps. Then you come here just to be around this disappointing beast that lies before you."

You frown, upset that the events of today were bothering him this much. You leaned forward and placed a kiss on his forehead, placing your own against it after. "My sweet, I assure you, you have nothing to worry about. The hairdresser for rehearsal did not arrive today so they had me take her place for the time being."

With a soft caress, you combed your hands through his hair, making sure to be gentle as to not hurt him. "It doesn't matter how those men look in physical appearance, it means nothing to me."

You moved his head to rest on your chest as you held him, "The amount of hair on your beautiful head does not matter to me. Besides, my love, your hair is softer than the finest of silk. I love you for who you are, Erik."

His voice hitched as tears soaked your chest, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. You placed a kiss on his head, holding him close to you.

"I love you. My angel, my muse, my Y/n."

[astrow0rldx]

PAC TAROT: Shadow Work

Piles read left to right. Really use your intuition for which one calls to you to read. This Reading will be a little different, because it's ai generated. But hear me out, it's extremely accurate. I pull the tarot cards, and questions and it makes a story using automatic creative writing skills. In the story format it should help understand better.

Pile One

You present yourself as someone grounded and nurturing, someone who has it all together—capable, reliable, and a provider of stability. You wear this mask of self-sufficiency with grace, offering support and care to those around you. There’s a warmth to how you handle life, as if you’re always the one others can lean on. Yet, beneath this persona, there’s a quiet dissatisfaction, an emotional numbness that you don’t let others see. You feel disconnected, like something essential is missing, but you avoid acknowledging it, preferring to maintain the image of having everything under control.

Deep down, there’s a fear of rejection and abandonment that colors how you see yourself and your place in the world. This fear stems from past experiences where you felt left out or unworthy, perhaps from moments when you reached out for support and were met with coldness or lack. That sense of being shut out has led you to withdraw emotionally, burying your desires and vulnerabilities under layers of self-protection. However, this hidden wound shapes how you move through the world—it keeps you from fully expressing the vibrant, fiery side of yourself, the part of you that is bold, passionate, and fearless. While you project strength, this shadow lingers in the background, holding you back from fully owning your power.

Your shadow comes to the surface when you’re confronted by people or situations that reflect confidence and control, especially when they embody traits you’ve repressed. These encounters stir something inside you, triggering internal conflict as your shadow self clashes with the persona you’ve carefully built. The lesson in this struggle is to reconnect with your emotional core, to allow yourself to feel deeply and openly once again. Healing comes through embracing the tension, acknowledging that inner battles are a part of your growth. By working through this, you’ll move toward a more patient and nurturing relationship with yourself, where you invest in long-term growth and understand that healing is a process—one that requires steady effort and care.

Pile Two

She finds herself in a state of suspension, caught between holding onto control and surrendering to the unknown. Outwardly, she appears strong, composed, and authoritative, someone who takes charge with ease and thrives in an orderly world. She presents herself as the one in control, the one who always knows what to do. However, beneath this confident exterior, she’s struggling with uncertainty. She feels stuck, as if the answers she’s searching for are just out of reach, and in order to find them, she knows she must let go of the rigid expectations she’s placed on herself. She wears the mask of authority, but behind it, she is deeply uncertain, torn between what she knows and what she longs to discover.

At her core, she craves connection—a relationship where she can feel deeply understood and loved. There's a romantic within her, yearning for a bond that feels effortless and sincere, as if she’s waiting for that perfect emotional partnership. But she’s haunted by past disappointments, memories of love that didn’t turn out the way she hoped. This loss lingers, making her cautious about trusting her heart again. She often revisits those past moments of grief, wondering what went wrong and fearing that opening herself up to love again will lead to more heartbreak. As much as she wants love, the weight of her emotional past makes her guard her feelings, holding back from diving fully into new connections.

Her fears and vulnerabilities surface when emotions become overwhelming, or when she’s faced with situations that push her to move too fast. In those moments, she becomes protective, holding onto her feelings and resources tightly, afraid of losing control or being vulnerable. Her instinct is to cling to what she knows, but there’s also a deeper truth: her dreams and fantasies about what could be are not just idle thoughts. They reflect her true desires, the part of her that longs to break free from her hesitation and embrace all the possibilities that life offers. To heal, she needs to release the fear of losing control, to trust that even if things are uncertain, the journey ahead is rich with opportunities—ones she’s fully capable of seizing, if only she lets go.

Pile Three

She is moving through a period of transition, quietly distancing herself from past conflicts and emotional turbulence. Her journey, both literal and metaphorical, is one of seeking peace and clarity after enduring a storm. On the outside, she may seem calm, as though she’s finally found her direction, but the waters behind her are still unsettled. Internally, she is recovering from struggles, possibly with others or even within herself. The tension and discord she’s left behind still echo in her thoughts, making it difficult for her to fully let go. While she appears to be progressing, there is a quiet battle inside her, as if she’s constantly bracing for the next challenge.

Her internal struggle centers on patience and the need to balance her desires with the reality of what she’s building. She has invested time and energy into something—perhaps a relationship, a career, or personal growth—and now she waits, unsure of the outcome. There's a restlessness beneath her calm exterior, a feeling of competition, either with herself or with others. She yearns for stability and celebration, for a moment when she can finally relax and feel secure, but she is deeply aware that the foundation she’s working on still needs time to solidify. Emotionally, she is tied to the idea of love and partnership, but her past battles have made her wary. Love feels both close and distant, like something she craves but is cautious about fully embracing.

Her emotional depth runs deep, though she doesn’t always show it. She is someone who feels intensely, yet she’s learned to control and temper her feelings. When her emotions rise, they are powerful, but she channels them carefully, maintaining a composed exterior. Her greatest strength lies in her intuition. She often knows more than she lets on, reading situations and people with a subtle, almost mystical understanding. But this also makes her guarded, as if she’s protecting herself from being hurt again. She’s been through many trials, and though she’s weary, she remains resilient. Her journey is far from over, and while the battles she’s faced have left her cautious, they have also made her wiser. She stands ready to move forward, but she knows the path ahead will require both patience and strength.

[witchywithwhiskey]

the princess and the villain

pairing: choose your own soft!dark male character x female reader

summary: you're the daughter of a powerful mob boss, and someone's been hired to take you away. but after one look at your face, the man starts getting ideas about keeping you for himself.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), dark themes, abduction, drugging, dirty thoughts and fantasies (including nonconsensual somnophilia), sadism, dacryphilia, a dangerously delusional man

word count: 1.7k

a/n: i wrote this prologue-y thing back in early spring for a specific character, but while i liked this part, i didn't like anything about how the story progressed after it and i ended up abandoning the fic. but i still really liked this part and i thought it'd be a fun entry in @bucks-and-noble's Choose Your Babe challenge!! so, after you read, please tell me who you think is the villain to our princess 😈

For you, it was a night like any other. 

You’d gone through your normal evening routine, padding softly around your penthouse apartment before slipping between the satin sheets of your queen-sized bed. 

You’d drifted off into a peaceful slumber, feeling safe in the knowledge that your security system was set, there was an armed doorman in the lobby of your building, and your father’s men were only a phone call away.

For him, it was the night everything changed.

Of course, everything would change for you, too. You just didn’t know it yet.

You were blissfully unaware of everything that had been put in motion that led to the events of that night. You slept soundly as a man you’d never met before—one wearing a dark suit, dark gloves and a dark look in his eye—stalked silently into your bedroom. He adjusted the black leather gloves he wore, a silver gun gripped in one steady hand as he came to stand over you. 

You looked like a princess.

It was the first thing that struck the man, how much you looked like a sleeping princess from the fairytales he’d read as a boy. So peaceful and pretty and perfect. 

But the man wasn’t a knight or a prince. Sure, he’d had noble aspirations when he’d been young, wanting to slay dragons and rescue princesses like you. But that’s not how his life turned out.

Instead, he’d become the villain. He was the assassin who had killed your father’s men assigned to protect you, then slit the throat of the doorman in your lobby before disarming your security system and letting himself into your defenseless apartment. 

He was the mercenary hired by your mafia boss father’s rival to abduct you and hold you hostage while the old men squabbled over power and money.

As the man stared down at your face, his eyes tracing the curve of your cheek and the dip of your mouth, the thought occurred to him that he would pay anything to get you back if you’d been taken from him. He’d burn the whole world down to find you if someone managed to take you from him. Not that he’d ever let you out of his sight if you were his…

But then he reminded himself that you weren’t his, you were a job, and his thoughts soured. It was more difficult than he would’ve liked to admit to get back to work, his movements lacking their normal meticulousness as he shoved his gun into its holster beneath his arm. 

He pulled a cloth and a small bottle of chloroform from a pocket inside his suit jacket. He didn’t normally need to watch what he was doing, but he did then, making extra certain he didn’t pour too much of the sedative onto the cloth before stowing the bottle away again.

Normally, the man was a professional. He could press the cloth so gently over someone’s mouth and nose while they slept that they’d never even know they were being drugged. They’d just slip peacefully from sleeping into unconsciousness, without any of the fear or struggle that came with waking up to realize they were being drugged by a stranger.

But the man’s mask of calm had slipped the moment he’d laid eyes on your beauty, and he could feel the darkness in the very depths of his soul stirring within him. It was seething and starving, testing the limits of his self-control, making him feel on edge. He wanted. He wanted you.

The man could picture his hand roughly covering your mouth and nose with the chloroform cloth, your eyes flying open and staring up at him. He could imagine the way they’d widen with horror, then fill with tears that slipped down your temples and into your hair. He could almost hear your soft cry of distress and your whimper of terror as you comprehended your fate.

As he fantasized about your fear, the man’s cock hardened in his pants, thickening at the thought of your pretty eyes staring up at him like the villain he was. A menacing grin slowly curled the corners of his mouth and the dark look in his eye turned positively wicked.

Then he was moving, forgoing his normal precision and letting the darkness within him take hold as he slammed the chloroform cloth over your pretty mouth and pert nose, the tips of his leather-clad fingers digging into your soft cheeks hard enough to make you scream in surprise.

When your eyes flew open, the man couldn’t help but marvel at their beauty, leaning forward to loom over your body to get a better look. The moonlight shone across your face, limning your features in ethereal silver light, making you look like an angel. You were even more beautiful when you were looking at him like he was the most important thing in the world. 

The mercenary had thought your immediate reaction would be fear, but he was wrong. He hadn’t anticipated the way your brows would furrow in confusion, sweet little lines forming between them as you stared up at him, more bewildered than terrified by his presence.

But then—then it happened. Confusion gave way to horror, your chest heaving as you breathed in panicked gasps, only succeeding in inhaling more of the drug and dooming yourself. You whimpered so sweetly it sounded like music to the man’s ears, and your eyes filled with tears. The man watched, his mouth curving into a greedy, predatory smile. 

He held your terrified gaze, using one hand to brace the back of your head so you couldn’t escape the cloth that covered your mouth and nose and you continued to breathe in the sedative. His cock ached in his pants, the full length of him pressing against the tight confines as he throbbed with arousal, his balls filling with come that he furiously wanted to spill across your face. Or bury deep in one of your warm holes… 

His attention was forced back to the present when your body jerked with dawning realization of what was happening to you. You reached for the dangerous stranger looming over you, your fingertips falling just shy of brushing against his bulge. The man’s cock twitched, as if reaching for you in return, and he had to stop himself from thrusting to meet your touch. 

Thankfully for him, the chloroform was doing its job, and your hands dropped futilely as your eyes began to close. Your arms fell listlessly to the bed and the man watched you succumb to the sedative he’d used to drug you.

When he was certain you were unconscious, he pulled the cloth away and stowed it back in his jacket pocket, ensuring he didn’t leave any trace of his presence in your apartment. That was the job, he tried to remind himself, but the darkness within him was louder, and his movements were all too eager as he pulled the blankets of your bed back, baring your body to his hungry gaze.

He felt his cock throb in excitement as he stared down at you, your body clad in nothing but a skimpy little nightgown, the fabric so thin he could see the shape of your nipples poking through. His eyes roved greedily over your curves, lingering for a long moment on the way the bottom hem of your nightdress was rucked up around your hips, almost giving him a glimpse of your precious cunt nestled between your thighs.

The man wanted desperately to know if you’d gone to bed without panties, but he knew he had to ignore the creeping darkness that had slithered into his mind. Not because it would be a gross invasion of privacy to take a peek at your panties while you were unconscious, but because he knew that if he pushed your nightdress up any further, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from sinking his cock into your tight cunt while you were still out cold.

He’d never fucked a princess, and fucking you—even if it was while you were unconscious—might be the closest he ever got. You were a sleeping beauty and he was no prince charming, no honorable knight. He was the villain, and he wanted to ravage you, whether you were awake or not. 

In that moment, he couldn’t decide which would be better. Fucking you while you were soft and pliant with sleep, your body taking his cock into your tight warm hole while you mumbled incoherently against his shoulder. Or fucking you when you were awake, so he could see your pretty eyes fill with tears again, hear the desperate sounds you made while he filled you with his cock…

The leather of the man’s gloves creaked in the silence of your bedroom as he curled his hands into fists and beat back the darkness that had slipped into his head. He was a professional. He’d been hired to do a job, and you were that job. 

You weren’t his princess to steal away from the king’s tower. He needed to remember that.

The mercenary adjusted his cock in his pants, working hard to reclaim the control that had fled the moment he’d laid eyes on you. He forced his limbs to move precisely as he gathered you up into his arms, ignoring his body’s responses when he smelled the sweet scent of you settle around him, and when he felt your soft breath exhale against his neck. 

A car was waiting in the parking garage beneath the building, ready for the man to take you far away from your home and the city where your father held enough power to be considered a king. He encountered no obstacles as he carried you down to the garage and buckled you into the passenger seat of the car.

As the man drove away, he couldn’t help but feel like the villain stealing the princess from the king’s tower, and it gave him a perverse sense of satisfaction. He may not have been a prince or a knight, but he had taken the princess. And he began to think that maybe he should keep you for himself. 

Perhaps the man could write his own kind of twisted fairytale, one where the villain got to keep the princess. 

Looking over at you, your features soft in sleep and no less beautiful than when he’d first laid eyes on you, the man made his decision. He’d have his happily ever after at any cost—which meant he’d have to convince you that he was your fairytale come to life, just as you were his.

so who's the babe!? tell me in the comments, reblogs or in my askbox!

[sillygirlnat]

Skin Care | Nanami Kento x Reader

Find me on ao3!

Nanami Kento was a man who takes care of himself, simple as that.

Whether that be keeping up with his hair, shaving, or washing his face, he even has a whole skin care routine. This routine consists of many skin care products, carefully placed and organized on his bathroom counter in a little caddy. Ensuring care for each glass bottle, he was very cautious when it came to his skin care, only choosing products that would actually benefit his skin. His routine was all over the place during his teenage years, as he had struggled with acne. He tried numerous different routines, finally finding one that worked for him. Consistently keeping up with his facial appearance, he was clearly a put together man. Carefully applying each product to his skin, making sure he doesn’t rub too hard, nor too soft, plucking his eyebrows when he realized they have grown out a bit too much. Then you came along. You were just as put together as him, if not more. Always maintaining both of your appearances, you looked like the perfect couple.

Before coming over for the first time, you had no idea that he even did his skin care. As you stepped foot into his apartment, the first thing you noticed was how clean and organized it was. Sitting on his couch, he began preparing tea for the both of you. Taking the seat next to you when he was finished brewing the tea, he handed you a cup. Eventually, after sipping on the tea for a while, you had the need to use the restroom. Politely asking him where his bathroom was, he strode down the hallway, leading you to it. Stepping into the bathroom, he left, walking back to the living room to let you do your business. Finally taking a look around his bathroom, you realized how much of a difference there was from the rest of the apartment.

The bathroom had a more “lived-in” feel, rather than the rest of the house which lacked personal touches. You took note of the various skin care products neatly tucked away in the corner of his counter and the wall, sitting in an organizer. Also noticing a towel placed neatly in front of the faucet, seemingly still wet, which indicated that he recently washed his face in preparation for his routine. Little decorations littered the shelves and walls around the bathroom, as well as a towel strewn across the metal towel bar. Finishing your business and washing your hands, you rushed out of the bathroom, excited to tease him about this. Finding your way back to the living room, Nanami was found waiting patiently.

You sat down next to him and casually said, “I noticed some products in your bathroom. I didn’t expect you to have those kinds of things, let alone know what they are.” His facial expression stayed neutral, but you couldn’t help but notice the faint bit of red staining the tips of his ears.

He coughed, “I didn’t expect you to notice.”

Laughing, you say, “Of course I noticed!”

You continued to pester him throughout the evening, consistently teasing him on the matter. The both of you were sitting on the couch for hours on end, ecstatic to see and converse with each other, even though you had seen him just recently. Eventually, he loosened up about the teasing, which led the both of you to start discussing different brands and products that you both either used or favored.

By this point, dinner time was rolling around, the both of you settling on pasta, which was something simple and easy to make. As you set a pot of water on the stove, Nanami reached his hands around your waist, settling them on your hips as the water came to a boil. He reached over, grabbing the pasta box, then pouring the cheese-stuffed tortellini into the boiling water, keeping one hand resting on your hip.

-

After you both devoured the pasta, you convinced him to try each other’s skin care routines, which he accepted.

After a night of face masks, toners, a multitude of different serums, and moisturizers, you both laid down in bed together. He reached his hands around your torso, pulling you into a tight embrace, pressing a gentle kiss on the top of your head, face smothered in your hair.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he whispers softly, voice muffled.

-

Waking up in the morning, you noticed a bright red pimple on his usually clear nose. You rushed to his bathroom to check on your skin, and noticed tiny pimples around your eyebrows. Safe to say, you were never using each other’s skin care, ever again.

[geneviveleocardius]

final decision

who are you choosing?

if you chose L

your relationship with L would deepen in subtle yet meaningful ways. he’s not someone who expresses affection conventionally, but his care for you becomes evident in his actions.

he starts sharing his thoughts with you more than anyone else, valuing your perspective on the case and even considering your opinions above his own—a rare sign of his trust.

L’s love language remains peculiar. he offers you his favorite sweets during long nights, insisting that “you’ll need energy to keep up with me.” it’s his way of saying he values your presence, even if he never explicitly says the words.

physical affection is sparse but intentional. L might brush his fingers against yours when handing over a report or lean in closer than necessary while examining evidence. these small gestures carry the weight of emotions he struggles to articulate.

as the investigation progresses, L grows increasingly protective of you. he rarely lets you out of his sight, not trusting anyone else to keep you safe. “you’re a vital part of this team,” he says, though his concern runs deeper than professional interest.

when it becomes clear that kira has taken a personal interest in you, L’s mask of calm begins to crack. he spends hours analyzing every interaction you’ve had with light, his paranoia rising as he tries to shield you from kira’s reach.

the night you die, L is with you. you collapse suddenly, and though he understands immediately what’s happening—kira’s handiwork—it doesn’t soften the blow. he holds you, his usually detached demeanor breaking as he whispers, “stay with me.”

your death devastates L in a way he never expected. he continues the investigation with a cold, single-minded determination, but his moments of quiet reflection are filled with memories of you.

when L himself dies shortly after, he feels a strange sense of relief. his final thoughts are of you, and for the first time in his life, he wishes he could have had more time—not to solve another case, but to spend it with you.

if you chose light

your relationship with light deepens quickly, as he knows exactly how to make you feel like the most important person in his world. he listens attentively, remembers every small detail about you, and ensures you feel indispensable to him.

light’s affection, while genuine, is still rooted in control. he wants you by his side, not just as his partner but as someone who validates his vision of a perfect future. he reassures you, saying, “together, we can create a better world.”

he grows more possessive as his feelings for you intensify. if you express concern over his methods, he skillfully redirects the conversation, convincing you that everything he does is for the greater good—and for you.

physical affection with light is calculated but intense. he holds you close when you’re alone, his touch conveying both passion and an underlying need to keep you tethered to him.

as the pressure of the investigation mounts, light becomes increasingly paranoid about your safety. he’s torn between wanting to keep you close and fearing that your connection to him might make you a target.

if misa amane becomes involved, she sees you as a threat to her devotion to kira. despite light’s attempts to reassure her, misa acts on her own, using the death note to remove you from the equation.

alternatively, if the investigation catches up to light, your life ends in the chaos of his downfall. perhaps you’re caught in the crossfire of a police raid, or near him when Near’s team finally corners him.

your death shatters light’s carefully composed facade. whether it was misa’s doing or the result of his own hubris, he’s consumed by guilt and rage. for the first time, his vision of a perfect world feels hollow without you in it.

light’s grief manifests as obsession. he spends sleepless nights replaying the events that led to your death, his mind unraveling as he tries to justify the loss.

by the end, light is a shell of the man he once was, his ambition tainted by the memory of you. even as he faces his inevitable defeat, his thoughts linger on you, and for the briefest moment, he regrets everything.

[timble-tumble]

RIN FROM THE MIMIC EXCEPT ITS RIN ITOSHI

TAGS: rin n sae, absolute pure crack, mentions of hard ons (once), I diss mimic (sorry roblox mimic fans)

A/N: this idea emerged when I watched Rogurt play and shit on the new Mimic Roblox chapter, let me just say I actually have 0 idea what is going on in it, but watching that reminded me my favourite chapter (Jealousy I) had some woman chasing me around named Rin and therefore I immediately have to make it about bllk and wowee look

You’re bored, doomscrolling your life away as you lazily reach for the molecules of crumbs hiding in your basically empty chip packet. Eventually, you find something that will occupy your shortening attention span for a minute or so– Roblox horror game recommendations. The video recommends ‘The Mimic’, announcing the new chapter 4 and the ‘exciting’ new content it brings. Being starved to death with boredom, you decide to boot up your dusty computer to play it since it’s better than scrolling for another 2 hours. Your computer whines as it boots up as you get ready to abuse it after yet another game makes you rage-quit. You search up ‘The Mimic’, unconsciously clicking on the first result before the game icon even has a chance to load.

Once you load it, you roam around a bit and appreciate (or atleast try to, a bit hard with your shitty graphic settings) the new lobby before hitting play. Instead of choosing the new chapter like you said you would, you just went with your old time favourite– Jealousy I. You would always play it with your friends, always stopping right after poisoning one rat because you couldn’t be bothered to go find the others, instead opting to just go bully kids on Adopt Me. This time, you made it a goal to finish the whole chapter or atleast get past Rin before chickening out.

You load into the familiar starting streets of a dimly lit road leading the office building, quickly scavenging for the key and talking to your half-dead brother, barely skimming over whatever he’s yapping about. Hopping onto the boat, you look up to stare at the Majora’s Mask looking moon before being swallowed by some monster you still haven’t identified to this day.

You expect to load into the traditional Japanese buiding, but are instead greeted with the snowy grasslands of…..

a soccer field?

“The fuck?” you speak to yourself, confused.

You look around, the snow blinding your screen as a blaring sound of a blizzard storms pours out your speakers and into your ear drums. Slowly moving, you find a book burried in the thickets of unkept grass blades. You press ‘E’, opening up the book and starting a small cutscene. You hope for it to be the original story of how Rin ate Mio, but assuming from arriving on some damn soccer field you expect otherwise.

Long ago, there lived two brothers. The brothers were prodigies at soccer, constantly honing their ego and perfecting their skills. One day, the eldest– Sae, left for Spain. He eventually came back, but something about his demeanour was off. The two brothers, versed each other in a soccer match, with Sae victorious. The youngest– Rin, questioned their overwhelming power gap but was never told why. Jealousy overtook Rin, and to satisfy his ego he consumed his own brother. This action led to a mysterious mouth appearing on the back of Rin’s head– the mouth of Sae, who constantly wailed for ass, otherwise resulting in extreme pain for both.

The cutscene ends, with it’s story resulting in a side eye and your jaw dropped on the floor. This is DEFINITELY not the Mimic you remember. You shrug, deciding to continue playing it as it sounds like a fun experience and would make a good game to play with your friends while you laugh hysterically at what you just witnessed.

But what you’re witnessing right now is even more hilarious.

You turn your player over to a shrilling scream from the far end of the field, followed by a figure running up to you. You decide it’s an excellent idea to run towards what was presumably the monster to get a better look, and upon closer inspection your doubts have been cleared, because instead of the classic Jealousy I monster Rin Tsushima, it is now Rin Itoshi from Blue Lock with his tongue flailing around like that one animation (cough), with a wailing Sae screaming for your booty cheeks on the back of his head. You tilt your head slightly down to see him sporting a massive hard on. How nice.

You audibly laugh (correction: absolutely fucking scream in pure laughter).

You quickly type in the command to take a screenshot, dragging your mouse over Rin, before hitting the shift key to zoom away faster than anytime you’ve ran for track in PE. You hear heavy footsteps and loud crunches of snow and grass following behind you, accompanied with a shrill voice still screaming for cheeks. The objective chimes on the top right-hand corner of your screen.

Objective:

Poison three soccer balls 0/3

Bait Rin towards the goal and feed him the balls 0/3

“Oh man aren’t I in for a jolly time,” you giggle while wiping the tears pooling up in your eyes from laughter.

Wasting no time, you find the three soccer balls and give them a nice dunk in the bottle of poison conveniently placed on one of the spectating benches, all while Rin continues to chase you down with his horrifyingly long tongue. After poisoning all three, you bait Rin as told and watch the beautifully rendered cutscene play where his stupid ass delightfully munches on the balls like he’s been starved for 2000 years (he probably has considering the story).

“Ahh…” Rin slowly trudges towards you, glaring down at your character, “You dare try to trick me with balls?”

You can’t help but giggle at that sentence.

He moves even closer, the shitty model somehow conveying more anger than you thought a Roblox game could. “You’ve upset Sae.”

Rin flops over to show the gaping mouth on the back of his head, screeching it’s ass (mouth, technically) off to let it be known it is indeed, very, very, upset. You have a hunch it didn’t like those soccer balls.

If you remember correctly, this is where you try to escape getting brutally mauled by Rin in the actual game. You were never too good at the chase sequences (although you’re pretty sure it’s just because the chases suck balls), but after evading seek in Doors countless times you’re pretty sure you can do it this time. Cracking your knuckles, you set your hand on the WASD keys.

But instead, you’re met with a blank screen, reflecting another hideous face instead of the shitty Rin model (your face incase you couldn’t figure it out).

“Bruh-”

Before you can go ranting on about how this game practically edged you and left you on a damn cliffhanger, Rin makes a final appearance in the lovely Rin animation with the song blasting through your shitty laptop speakers. You jump, not expecting that ending as your computer churns and processes to show, “Disconnected- Reason: Kicked from game.”

Well, that was entertaining for a bit. Back to scrolling.

jumpscare

[semicolonsspace]

Him (your favorite) (Stiles//Dylan O'Brien)

No use of names. Just pet names and Y/n.

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: Roleplay, unprotected sex, edging, begging, praise kink, degradation kink, Bondage (use of handcuffs), breeding kink, stretch kink(?), mommy kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, subspace.

"Honey, I'm home," he yells as he shuts the door. He would always do this, he would always say it's 'hilarious'. Y/n found it humorous so soon after they made it a thing she started doing it as well. But except she put her spin onto it, talking like a 1940s housewife that just got back running errands.

Y/n rounds the corner to the front door. She was wearing his favorite, his T-shirt and shorts— or at least he thought she was wearing some; She wasn't. She was doing errands around the house in his shirt—Which mostly consisted of organizing the new room they had just renovated— more like Y/n renovated because she wanted it to be perfect!

"Hello, dear," she says in her housewife's voice. He laughs at her and pulls her in by the hips to kiss her. His hands snaked under the shirt she wore and slapped her ass when he realized she was only wearing underwear and his shirt. "You tryna kill me today?" He asks in a guttural groan. Her forehead rested on his as she smiled lovingly at her boyfriend of two wonderful years. "Not currently."

He gave her a playful shrewd look. "I think I'm already dead, then," he hums suggestively as he pulls hair out of her face, then resting his hand to cup it. His soft touch sent a chill down her spine as she stared up at him with lust that was masked by playfulness. "Oh, yeah?" She starts as she bats her eyelashes. "Well, I guess I might have to resurrect you."

He looked intrigued by her choice of words, choosing a decision for himself he indulged her humorous antics. "How so?"

"By laying you on my sacrificial altar bed and extracting your life force fluids," she jokingly purrs at him. That seemed good enough for him because he slung her body over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. As he walked he shreaded his layers then threw her on their bed.

Y/n scolded him for being so careless, as she almost hit her head on the metal bed frame. She pulls him down, and pulls his shirt off effortlessly—as she had done it so many times before due to the numerous times of "catching up sex" they had due to his work. She pins his pale buffed arms to the mattress while speaking. "Now, baby. Don't you remember how I said 'I' have to extract some fluids?"

He looks up at her and smirks. He decided to indulge her roleplay and started improvising lines. "Please, don't hurt me— I'll be good— you said you needed fluids, take my spit anything but my blood!" He whined with feigning horror. But she knew he was aroused, she could feel it— feel his 7-inch cock pressing— begging to be drained by her— and if he was lucky he could have her cunt to grip her tight.

Y/n chuckles darkly, something he thought was too authentic to be in their present roleplay. "I never specified which fluid I needed, dummy."

His eyes widened when he 'realized' what she meant. "By all means, go ahead— just don't kill me— please—" he begged once more. Y/n plants a soft kiss on his pointed elf-like nose as if saying 'good.'

That led to having him cuffed to the bed for hours. Her hand wrapped around his cock— jerking it just to stop before he would release. She wanted him to explode when he did so. And she wanted it to be inside of her. She wanted to feel the familiarity of the thick warm liquid rife her up just for it to enter her cervix. She was on the pill, plus she had a few boxes of plan B she liked to keep a stack of.

"Mama! Please! Just let me cum! I'll be good!" He screams, fake tears streaming from his eyes. Some of them were genuine tears from how delicious the pleasure was.

"Will you be my little ingredient holder?" She tilted her head as she spoke, speaking in the most condescending tone she could muster. "I need lots of human sperm to make my potions, would you like that? For me to milk you dry every day?"

He lets out a guttural groan that she didn't think was part of the roleplay. This was purely him. He was enjoying every bit of this, lapping up all the attention his girlfriend gave her.

The last statement was proved by his hips thrusting into her hips in an attempt to chase his orgasm. She stops and rubs his stomach. "How many times was that? 6 times? 6 potential orgasms just for me to stop... That makes me powerful don't you think? To have the ability to stop you from doing something your body chases? It's okay though, you'll get it soon."

Then her cunt was hovering over his red cock that was tortured for the last 2 hours. He nodded eagerly as he babbled how much he needed her to finish him off— to give her the "ingredient" she needed. She sat on him, wincing at how big he was, Every time she had him in her at first she would always be shocked by how much he stretched her fluttering walls.

"Going to be the best ingredient ever— make the strongest potion," she praises, continuing their little roleplay. He didn't seem to be acting anymore due to the immense pleasure, mostly just him begging for mercy for her to finish him off finally.

"For fucks sake— please just ride me, mama— need it," he whines, actual tears falling down his face. He was ruined— disheveled. And she felt glorious; she had done that. She had made him feel so divine just for her to deny his unholy release six whole times.

Y/n clicks her tongue and slaps his chest slightly, before reaching back and squeezing his balls. By his reaction she knew it was painful from how much he groaned— a different type of groan— he needed that release and she was just toying with him— She had been toying with him this whole time. "Next time you won't finish. I may need the ingredient but I can always use other fluids," she warns darkly.

He seemed to get that she was still roleplaying and nodded, breathing a sorry that was soon sucked in as she started hopping on him, his dick curve hitting her spot every time she sheathed onto him.

Her hands rested on his pecs before finding his nipples and tugging on them harshly. "Pretty boy looks so good fucked out for me," she whispers into his ear, her one hand caressing his sweaty hair. "Only for you." His eyes flutter, his mouth staying open. She kissed him— now instead of hopping, she was rocking into him, which seemed more sensual to them as they moaned in sync, telling each other they loved each other, completely forgetting about the roleplay. Now it was just the couple of two years that have lived with each other for eleven months.

Y/n reaches for the cuffs and he shakes his head while begging a no. "Keep them on, please," he moans.

Her mouth forms a smile before opening from the pleasure. She gets an idea so they both have what they want. "Wanna feel you touch me," she says uncuffing one singular cuff. His hand immediately finds her hip while his hips thrust into her—seeming like he was trying to gain control.

"Fucking being a brat for not letting me cum, baby," he groans as he pinches her nipple. She smiles at him before kissing his neck. "Good," she whispers, before unlatching the other cuff. Then she was flipped on her stomach, her ass in the air, her face buried in the mattresses as he plunged his abused cock into her. "Oh, you feel so good—way better than your hand, that's for damn sure," he murmurs breathily. Y/n was clawing at the mattress, bratty almost pornographic moans being muffled into the light grey satin sheets.

She lifts her head finally, positioning her body to arch, her elbows propping her up as he continued to rail her pussy into oblivion. "Cum in me— wanna feel you-"

He cuts her off before she continues with a humorous moaning chuckle. "Trust me, I'm gonna fucking milk every fuckin' drop inside this pussy, gonna stuff it full so you can carry my baby," he growls, making his thrust harder to punch— not kiss— her cervix. She squeals as a sudden wave of intense pleasure knocks her out. Her vision faded black and he coaxed her, his thrust becoming sloppy before he stilled in her. He doubles over from the climax, whispering praises into her ear. "S'good, I love you so much, honey," was all she could make out.

She thought he was the one who was going to be exhausted but he kept going, his cock continuing to piston inside of her for round two. She was more than okay with it, letting him use her just how he wanted; he deserved it.

By the time he stuffs her brim full with a second orgasm, she is on her back. The cum oozed out of her cunt as he pestered wet-sloppy and open-mouth kisses all over her neck and chest. She was bound to have marks all over her in the morning. "Look at that, baby," he says as he plays with his release around the hole. He was still inside, his finger lapping up the release and stuffing it back into her.

"Fuck, don't do that, or we're doing a round three," y/n squeals. He smiles cheekily at her and stuffs his finger into her again.

His cock and his finger were both inside, stretching her to limits she never thought she would be able to with him. Then he starts thrusting slowly, his vacant hand holding her ankle in the air so he can have maximum access to his favorite toy.

"We need to get those ankle holders like hospitals have so I can fuck you better," he says between grunts. "Or a fuck machine so I can get payback."

At the mention of the machine, she screams, especially because he removes his finger and presses it onto her stomach. "Scream for me again, baby: tell the whole fuckin' neighborhood I'm breeding my little whore again."

And she did, she couldn't take his rough thrust with his hand pushing on her stomach, it made her tighter— sensitive. But she could not bring herself to stop such amazing pleasure.

His stamina never seemed to shock Y/n. It did at first, having to beg her to eat her out. She let him, barely saying no simply because it was a win-win. He would always say "I get pleasure from eating my girl out, I don't need anything else." Which she loved, it almost became a love language for him to do so. While she answer emails for her stay-at-home job—when he was home that is— he would rarely pass an opportunity to either 1: eat her out or two: fuck her while she worked— and trust the universe, he made sure she would take it while working whatever she did on her computer.

He soon got tired of the position and pulled her by her thighs, manhandling her and flipping her back on her stomach. Y/n pushed herself down the bed, her feet touching the ground in front of him. He pushed himself back in, his hands grabbing her hips so he could pull her back onto him repeatedly. His thrust was a little harder, exactly how she wanted right now, making loud pleasured moans to leave her lips— along with many praise for him for how good he made her feel.

She then pushes herself off, causing them both to stand, he gets the hint and pulls her close, grabbing by the throat to choke her. Her vision fades a bit, from the pleasure of his cock hitting her cervix and his slender hand stifling air from her throat. "I love you, honey. 'Missed you at work; 'Could only think of my beautiful girl all alone at home," he says between moans. "My good fucking girl," he growls as he moves her hair from her face just to return to her throat. His thrust never faltered either, his words, and admiration, all pushing her over the edge so hard she went limp. "Did I fuck you too dumb, baby? Awe, my poor baby." He then pushes her face back into the mattress, spreading her cheeks to gain better access to his cock moving into her pussy repeatedly. "Take me so well," he groans, massaging the fatty flesh of her rump.

Y/n was too far into subspace to talk. She could barely even comprehend his dirty words, plus the painful pleasure she had from overstimulation of her recent orgasm was going straight to her head.

He continues to fuck her, eventually picking her back up and carrying her to the bathroom—while fucking her. Her arms wrap around his shoulder lazily, his hands steadily gripping her ass to push her onto his cock repeatedly. He lays her down in the huge circle bathtub, turning the water on and continuing his work to chase his own orgasm. "Baby, fucking love you and your pussy, both of my girls make me so happy," he then doubles over, his face going for her neck, stifled whimpers escaping his mouth traveling from her neck to her ears.

Y/n holds him, her hands rubbing his back as he finishes for the third time inside of her. "I love you too, dear," she whispers. He whimpers causing her to chuckle. "Too sensitive?" She asks, feeling his dick twitch inside of her. He nods into her and she splashes water onto his body. "You wanna take a nap in the bathtub?"

He moves his face to look at her with a dumbfounded expression. "Honey, as much as I love being in your embrace, I don't want to risk you drowning."

[jossamology]

⸻ until dawn halloween headcanons!

in honor of halloween here's a halloween-themed headcanon set for each until dawn character.

samantha giddings.

sam chooses a diy nature-inspired costume like a woodland fairy, using biodegradable glitter and repurposed fabrics. think leaves, twigs, and soft, earthy greens.

she insists on going to a local pumpkin patch to pick out the perfect pumpkin and spends hours carving designs.

while the others plan for parties, she hosts a low-key gathering with candles, cozy blankets, and homemade pumpkin spice lattes.

loves classic horror but gets super into psychological thrillers. hereditary is her top pick, and she’s the one pointing out foreshadowing before everyone else catches it. josh washington.

josh goes all-out building a haunted maze in his backyard, complete with hidden speakers, fake cobwebs, and scare actors he hires just to freak his friends out.

dresses as something horrifying, like a blood-streaked serial killer. full commitment to fake blood and smudged makeup.

has a camera ready to capture each friend’s reaction when they’re scared out of their minds. keeps a scare montage video just for fun.

he's surprisingly good at carving pumpkins, but his designs are intricate horror scenes, almost like horror movie posters in pumpkin form.

ends halloween by watching obscure, disturbing horror movies that leave everyone else uncomfortable. mike munroe.

shows up dressed as a suave vampire or some other classic monster, aiming to look cool and a little dangerous.

takes his friends to a haunted corn maze and enjoys it way more than he lets on, constantly teasing the jump-scare actors and testing his bravery.

organizes a frat party bonfire in the woods with s’mores and ghost stories. he’s the one lighting sparklers and throwing on extra wood to make the flames bigger, he drinks to much and forgets he's the host of the party.

pulls classic halloween pranks, from fake spider webs to jumping out of dark corners. the type to keep a scary mask in his bag just to mess with people.

after a few drinks, he’s belting out rocky horror picture show songs around the bonfire with zero shame.

jessica riley.

jessica’s costume is elaborate, trendy, and slightly dark, like a glamorous vampire or a witch in haute couture. she’s all about looking spooky-chic, she went shopping early for the best costume.

stays in to watch mean girls with a couple of her girl friends referencing every qoute.

spends half of halloween snapping aesthetic photos of her outfit, snacks, and décor, making everything look flawless.

gets her halloween nails done a week before and flaunts them on her social media platforms.

matt taylor.

he’s the guy bringing pumpkin spice lattes and fall-flavored treats for everyone, unapologetically embracing the season.

suggests doing a couples costume with emily, probably as a famous horror duo. secretly excited about how they’ll look in photos together.

convinces emily(and maybe the whole group) to go on a haunted hayride, keeping a brave face while sneaking glances to see if she’s scared.

volunteers to help with halloween décor, placing spider webs and fake spiders around. he’s got a collection of led bats and ghost lights.

emily davis.

dresses as a chic witch, complete with a designer hat, intricate lace gloves, and knee-high boots. halloween is just another reason to look flawless.

sets up a dark, enchanted photo booth with crystal balls, black roses, and velvet. her instagram feed is a whole halloween masterpiece.

makes sure to get billions of stunning couples photos with matt, each one more perfect than the last. their matching costumes and chemistry are on point, making everyone else a bit envious (and they know it).

emily hosts a halloween themed sleep over with velvet pillows, and black satin sheets for an ultra-cozy but gothic sleepover vibe. the girls chat and laugh till they fall asleep, each secretly keeping one eye open.

chris hartley.

dresses as a ghostbuster or some iconic horror nerd costume, complete with all the gadgets. he’s fully committed to the nostalgia factor.

brings his gear and talks about doing a "ghost hunt." sets up his phone to record “paranormal” activity around the bonfire.

insists on watching horror classics with everyone, pausing every now and then to geek out about the movie effects or the backstory.

after everyone else goes to bed, chris and ashley stay up playing with the ouija board, half-joking but also half-believing they might make contact. they end up spooking themselves and get so scared swearing to never use it again.

ashley brown.

dresses as a character from classic gothic literature, like mina harker from dracula, complete with vintage lace and dark, dramatic makeup.

she knits little ghost ornaments and diys her own creepy decor, like mason jars filled with “witch’s brew” and spiderweb doilies.

loves telling ghost stories, candle in hand, with just the right amount of dramatic pauses and eerie expressions.

ashley, catching her breath and laughing nervously, gives chris a playful whack on the arm for scaring her so bad. “not cool, chris!” she says, but she’s grinning as he pulls off the mask, clearly proud of his successful prank.

insists on having a stash of halloween candy just for herself. she’s all about chocolate, especially reese’s and kit kats, and jokingly guards her stash from the others, even hiding a few extras in her bag.

hannah and beth washington.

hannah and beth take turns posing in different eerie setups around the cabin, snapping dramatic photos of each other in candlelight, near fog machines, and with props like antique lanterns. they especially love capturing a few shots that look like something out of an old haunted portrait.

both love the idea of exploring the mountain at night, so they plan a late-night “ghost hunt” under the full moon. they bring flashlights and spooky stories to tell along the way, daring each other to walk just a little bit farther into the woods.

beth and hannah sneak into the room with a giant rubber spider and place it right on josh’s chest. when he stirs and opens his eyes to find it staring back at him, he lets out a yell that has the girls stifling laughter from behind the door.

they have a slight obsession with candy corn and will spend halloween night indulging in it, trading their favorite types of candy and making candy corn-themed treats, like popcorn balls or cupcakes.

[audiblehush]

Okay, so post-P1 trailer, the thing I’m MOST excited about for is Colin and Penelope’s ACTUAL friendship!

Because while Colin has always viewed Penelope as a genuine a friend, she has always had the added lense of “I’m in love with you,” and that changed the way she interacted with him.

But now, to Penelope, Colin has essentially closed the door on him ever seeing her in a romantic light, both with his end of S2 words AND their “friends” handshake in S3. “Okay,” she probably thinks, “that dream is dead but friends. I can do friends.”

But what this opportunity does is this give us Penelope functioning in this friendship as an ACTUAL friend, and not just “yes sure friends but I can’t get the heart out of eyes enough for it to be truly genuine because I’m wearing a mask so you like me” - That didn’t make her a bad person; it made her a girl with a strong crush worried about his view of her; it’s normal! But it also obviously led to her putting on airs around him, while also having him on a pedestal and not seeing him as a fully realized person.

But these “lessons” allow for them to be around one another without expectation. That scene of them giggling in the ballroom like dorks, as if no one else was around them??

ABSOLUTE PERFECTION!!!!

Colin will begin to see Penelope as a true friend because she’ll LET him; she’ll drop her guard enough to be real instead of trying to impress him all the time. THAT is (hopefully) when Colin starts to realize his feelings: because Penelope will finally be her authentic self… while feeling more confident because of her new wardrobe. He’ll be attracted to her new confidence, and her ACTUAL personality she’s letting him finally see, not just her physical glow-up (the candle symbolism!!!!).

COLIN will now have heart eyes for her, and maybe the one to have her on a slight pedestal… only for the LW reveal to happen and shake his world… letting us see his hurt, his anger, his worry…

Once they work through all that is when these two see each other for who the other REALLY is, flaws and all, fighting to grow individually, as a friendship, as a COUPLE… and choose each other every time.

THAT. IS. MY. JAM.

I still have my concerns about the season. I do NOT want Colin only realizing his feelings once some other guy pays her mind. I NEED him to already be struggling with and analyzing his feelings before Debling get involved. If I had to guess, it will be more than Colin is like “okay, I’m pretty sure I have feelings for Penelope, but how do i know for SURE when I’ve thought that before?” (thanks S1…) … but then Debling comes along looking for a wife, and Colin is suddenly between rock and a hard place because now he has a sort time limit to sort through really complicated feelings.

Violet says “ what more could SHE want?” mostly likely about Penelope and Debling, because Debling is wealthy, titled, and has strong interests and beliefs he is committed to (based on his promo info, anyway). This has already been an insecurity of Colin’s since S1. He’s a third son (with wealth, yes), but he has been searching for “his purpose” for ages now; it’s all over S2 how lost he is and how that frustrates him. His family tends to tolerate him at best and kind of ridicule him at worst, and so he flits by being easy-going and “charming” when he just wants to know who is and be accepted for it. So Violet says all this and Colin says “but you said friendship is the best foundation” and she tells him to follow his heart.

But that’s the problem: Colin struggles to KNOW HIS OWN HEART, and not just romantically! So I just want to know how much of his feelings for Pen has he grappled with at that point? How much exploration outside of his Pen stuff has he done regarding his own person? Because he IS a person outside his relationships, but HE doesn’t feel that way.

EDIT: Also, ALSO Yes, Colin is hyping pen up, but I want her to hype HIM up once she sees that he’s not as confident as he acts. She’s seen glimpses of that in S2, but S3 can let her be like “actually, you are AMAZING…” and without romantic intentions, just her telling her friends he has so much to offer the world.

I’m also scared Penelope will make some awful choices (Nicola hinted at this in interviews) and like, i get it we need conflict, but my poor heart can only take so much…

At the end of the day, it’s all speculation. It’s so hard to say with how trailers are cut, and I know they can’t include it all, and most people are here for the romance so that is what they would lean into… so I’m really trying to avoid doom-theorizing, or even getting attached to things I WANT to happen. We won’t know until it’s out, so I’m just trying to contain both feelings of nervousness AND excitement.

I JUST LOVE THEM SO MUCH, YOUR HONOR!!!!

[make1wish]

Gojo fanfic: A Pleasurable Way to Surrender

TW: 🔞NSFW, Enemies to lovers, non-con, arranged marriage, Gojo Satoru-is-the-head-of-Gojo’s family, eventual smut

Gojo Satoru x Fem! Reader

Setting: I’m an assassin, driven by the burning need for revenge after Gojo Satoru killed my father. Beneath the mask of a noble lady, I hide my deadly intent, each move carefully measured to fulfill my mission. In this setting, Gojo Satoru never attended the Jujutsu High and instead succeeded as the head of the Gojo family upon reaching adulthood, which led to his more erratic and domineering personality.

The late summer sun cast long shadows through the paper screens of the Gojo estate's parlor, where the air hung heavy with incense and unspoken intentions. The traditional tea ceremony setting - a masterpiece of calculated design - stretched before me like a stage for the deadly performance I had rehearsed countless times in my mind.

I knelt on the tatami mat, my borrowed kimono arranged in perfect folds, each movement precise and measured as I prepared the ceremonial tea. The delicate porcelain whispered against the lacquered tray, a sound nearly lost beneath the distant chirping of cicadas. The green powder dissolved into the hot water as I whisked it with practiced grace, creating a perfect foam that would have fooled any noble lady's discerning eye.

Through lowered lashes, I monitored the corridor outside. Gojo Satoru's presence approached like a gathering storm - powerful, inevitable, and impossible to ignore. His initial disinterest in these arranged meetings was legendary among the noble families, yet I counted on that very arrogance. The trap was baited with seeming innocence and propriety.

He paused at the doorway, and I felt the weight of his gaze through those remarkable eyes. The Six Eyes that had seen through my father's defenses now turned their penetrating focus on me. My heart thundered in my chest, but my hands remained steady as I continued the ceremony, each gesture a carefully choreographed dance of deception.

"How unusual," his voice carried the lazy amusement of a cat discovering an interesting mouse. "I wasn't planning to attend another tedious matchmaking session, but something caught my attention."

I bowed demurely, exactly as a noble lady should, while beneath my sleeve, my fingers itched to form the seals that would unleash my true purpose. "Gojo-sama honors me with his presence."

He entered the room with fluid grace, his white hair catching the dying sunlight. His traditional clothing, worn with casual elegance, did nothing to disguise the predatory power in his movements. As he settled across from me, his smile held all the warmth of a winter moon.

"Tell me," he drawled, accepting the tea bowl with deliberate slowness, "what brings such interesting jutsu fluctuations to my humble home?"

My carefully constructed mask nearly cracked. His words carried the playful tone of someone already aware of the game being played, yet choosing to toy with their prey. I kept my eyes downcast, focusing on the ritual before me, but I could feel his gaze peeling away layers of my disguise with cruel precision.

"I believe it is customary to share tea before sharing secrets, Gojo-sama," I responded, proud of how steady my voice remained despite the killing intent I struggled to contain.

His laugh shocked me with its genuine delight. "How delightfully proper! And here I thought this afternoon would be boring." He leaned forward, close enough that I could smell the winter-fresh scent of his breath. "Let's play this game of yours. I'm curious to see how it ends."

The tea ceremony continued, a delicate dance of ceremony and subterfuge. Each movement became a dual performance - the refined noble lady I pretended to be, and the assassin I truly was, both painfully aware that Gojo Satoru saw through every pretense and was merely waiting to spring his own trap.

"Let's play this game of yours," his words lingered in the air as he guided me from the tea room to the estate's private dining chamber. The setting sun painted the wooden corridors in shades of blood and gold, a fitting backdrop for our deadly dance of deception.

The dining room proved more intimate than I expected, with low lighting from paper lanterns casting mysterious shadows across Gojo's features. He gestured for me to sit across from him at the low table, close enough that I could study the dangerous grace in every movement, yet far enough to maintain the pretense of propriety.

"You handle the tea ceremony beautifully," Gojo remarked, his blue eyes gleaming with hidden amusement. "I wonder what other talents you're hiding beneath that perfect noble lady facade."

I arranged my kimono with deliberate care, using the movement to conceal the slight tremor in my hands. "You honor me with your praise, Gojo-sama. Though I fear my talents pale in comparison to your... reputation."

"My reputation?" His laugh carried a sharp edge. "Which one? I have so many these days." He leaned forward, pouring tea with casual elegance. "Perhaps you've heard how I deal with those who seek to harm me?"

The tea cup nearly slipped from my fingers, but I caught it with practiced grace. "I've heard you are uncommonly merciful to your enemies."

"Merciful?" His smile turned predatory. "Now that's a new one." He raised his cup in a mock toast. "To mercy, then. And to games played in the dark."

As servants brought course after course, our conversation wove between veiled threats and subtle flirtation. Each word carried double meanings, each gesture concealed potential violence. I watched him pretend to lower his guard, leaving deliberate openings that screamed 'trap' to my trained eyes.

"You seem tense," he observed, reaching across the table to adjust my tea cup. His fingers brushed mine, sending an unexpected shiver down my spine. "Are you finding our little dinner party not to your taste?"

"On the contrary," I met his gaze steadily, even as my heart raced. "I find everything about this evening... intoxicating."

"How fortunate," Gojo's voice dropped to a dangerous purr. "Because I've arranged for a private tour of the estate afterward. There are so many... intimate spaces I'd love to show you."

The air between us crackled with unspoken intentions. His every movement telegraphed absolute confidence, a predator so assured of his superiority that he could afford to play with his prey. Yet beneath my mask of demure compliance, I felt the familiar cold focus of an assassin's patience.

"You're not like the others," he mused, studying me over the rim of his cup. "They come here seeking power through marriage, transparent in their ambitions. But you... you want something far more personal, don't you?"

I lowered my eyes, using submission to hide the flash of hatred his perception triggered. "Perhaps I simply want to know the real Gojo Satoru."

"Dangerous wish," he chuckled, rising with fluid grace. "But I'm feeling generous tonight. Shall we begin that tour? I promise to show you everything you're dying to see."

The moonlight filtered through the shoji screens as Gojo led me deeper into his private quarters. Each step felt heavier than the last, time itself seeming to slow as we approached his inner chambers. His hand rested lightly on the small of my back, a gesture that could have been courtly but carried an undercurrent of possession.

"Interesting," he murmured, sliding the door closed behind us. "Your jutsu fluctuations are getting stronger. Anticipation, perhaps? Or something more... lethal?"

I maintained my composure, though my heart raced beneath the elaborate layers of my kimono. "You seem very concerned with my jutsu, Gojo-sama."

"How could I not be?" He circled behind me, his breath warm against my neck. "It's like watching a butterfly try to disguise itself as a wasp. Beautiful, but ultimately futile."

My fingers twitched toward the concealed weapon in my sleeve, but before I could move, the air around me grew thick as honey. My movements slowed to a crawl as his Limitless technique took effect.

"Now, now," Gojo chided, catching my wrist with deliberate gentleness. "Let's not ruin the mood with violence." His other hand traced the line of my jaw, turning my face toward his. "Unless that's what excites you?"

I tried to pull away, but found myself pressed against the wall, his body caging mine with effortless strength. "You knew all along," I accused, abandoning pretense.

"Of course I knew," he laughed softly, his lips brushing my ear. "Your hatred burns so beautifully. It's what drew me to you in the first place."

His fingers tangled in my hair, pulling my head back to expose my throat. I gasped, caught between resistance and an unexpected surge of heat. His mouth traced a burning path down my neck, each kiss a mockery of my murderous intentions.

"Stop playing games," I hissed, even as my body betrayed me by arching into his touch.

"But I'm enjoying this game," Gojo murmured against my skin. His hands slid down my sides, mapping the contours of my body through the silk. "Aren't you? Your body seems to be."

My attempts to form jutsu seals were met with increasingly intimate responses, his touches growing bolder with each thwarted attack. The line between combat and caress blurred dangerously as his hands found the edges of my kimono.

"Such dedication," he praised, slowly unwrapping me like a precious gift.

"Let's see how long you can maintain that killing intent while I make you forget everything but pleasure," Gojo whispered, his words igniting an unwanted heat beneath my skin. I struggled against his hold, but his Limitless technique turned each movement into a languid dance.

"I'll never forget what you did," I hissed, even as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. My resistance only seemed to amuse him further, his touches growing bolder with each attempted escape.

"Such passion," he murmured. "But you're fighting the wrong battle." His hands slid beneath the loosened layers of my kimono, mapping the curves of my body with deliberate precision. "Let me show you a more pleasurable way to surrender."

(The eventual smut could be explored on Wattpad! I promise it won’t let you down ;P love y’all!)

[erik-carriere]

Author’s Note: I do not and will not regret this. Thank you (?) to @brendadaaedestler for the inspiration.

The Snuggie Oneshot

Her shriek at once echoed off his chamber walls.

Erik’s grim face twisted in an expression his decaying features alone could produce; he had expected this tragic outcome and yet seemed to revel in its arrival. His smile was jagged and his eyes fiercely trained on her, a warning of his slow approach.

“My dear.”

Christine gasped and backed from the horrible sight, nearly tripping over herself in the skirts of her robe and costume from Hannibal. “No… no! It’s too horrible!”

“Feast your eyes! Glut your soul!” He cackled monstrously. “Yes, you wanted to see, my dear, you wished to know what lay hidden beyond the veil!” He snapped with reproach, finally darting forward to ensnare her wrist in his dead hand and drag her closer to the sight.

“Erik, no!”

“You wanted to know?! Look!”

Her wide, terrified eyes beheld the sight. A yawning black chasm, sinister wires affixed to a metal rod, hanging there like so many nooses. And on each…

A fleecy, super soft garment to keep you warm and your hands free. The machine-washable fabric seemed to taunt her in the candlelight, so unnervingly versatile enough to be worn anywhere, so eerily lightweight. The perfect, horrifying companion for lazy days.

“You see, I no longer live by the rules of man,” he explained from behind the mask, letting her go as he straightened and gave a simple gesture towards the open closet. “Man, who has shown me nothing but hate!… Snuggies, on the other hand—“

“Erik!” She cried. “How can you possibly commit such a fashion crime? Why not a sensible cloak, or a long jacket?”

“Jackets show no compassion to me!” He cried like a wounded animal. “Besides, finding a tailor for the sleeves and length is an absolute nightmare. Now, with Snuggie’s one-size-fits-most accessibility…”

Poor Christine moaned with dread, and once more began to distance herself. But a long arm clad in super-soft black material snaked round her waist and held her captive once more.

“There is beauty one can find, Christine, in this life, if only one chooses… you shrink from me! Ah, Christine, you do not yet know the joys of all-day comfort whether you’re watching TV, working from home, braving the cold at outdoor sporting events…”

She was helpless as he led her to an adjoining closet, but she could not look away, no matter how hard she tried; at last, when this fresh nightmare was revealed, it was all she could do to give a squeak of pure terror. Before her stood a mannequin, a bride, unmistakably; the figure bent forward, as if to embrace, wearing a veil…

And a bright, white Snuggie.

She fainted in his arms, and the Angel of Music held her to his breast, looking over her limp figure almost mournfully.

“Jeez. Better not show her the face.”

[geekgemsspooksandtoons]

Azrael

I've had this bio in my drafts for a long time since September 26th 2024. But I'm posting it in a new post. This character I had developed for a story that hasn't really started (The new version that is I think) or finished yet. He was made for an AVP story where...I'd highly recommend reading his bio, so I don't spoil anything. Because this bio even includes a timeline and other things.

With the teaser of Predator Badlands being released today. And it strongly or well, confirming it takes place in the Alien universe as well and planting the seeds for a potential AVP. Or well, it seems like the perfect time to share Azrael to the Predator/Yautja fandom. If someone is bothered about this, please let me know. And I will gladly (And want to talk about some more stuff) reveal more information concerning that AVP story if anyone's interested after they read the bio.

For thousands of years, Kaail more commonly known as "The First Hunter" or, "The Alpha Predator" had left a mark in his species' history. He left an example of what his species could become. Even though after his brutal yet heroic rebellion against his people's slavers. Even though he was the one who wrote down the "Honor code". But as the years have gone by. That code seemed meaningless.

For a race of hunters that hunted other species for sport and supposedly "Honor". Most of the species became akin to the likes of General Zaroff from "The Most Dangerous Game". The honor code to the species was more so something to keep them in check. More so because break one of these rules, they would be killed. Yet the hunters would usually find a loophole for their amusement. Despite their origin, the Yautja would develop xenophobia against many other species. Looking down upon them as nothing more than game.

Particularly the human race. A species that the Yautja seem to respect. More so, seeing them as "Big Game" due to their unpredictable nature and violent history. And sadly, most of the species is like this. But even then, there are only a few who seem to look at everything...differently. While still having to obey the law of the hunt or prove they are worthy.

One of those was a young hunter who named himself Azrael. A Yautja seemingly taken in by the "Lost Tribe" led by Greyback at a young age. The name was given to him by his birth mother as he claims.

Azrael. The canonical name of Death of Islam. The only brave angel brave enough to go to Earth to face the hordes. The angel of death. Some of his brothers in the Lost Tribe simply laughed at his choosing of the name. It almost sounded like the young hunter wanted to sound serious. But what was interesting about him wasn't just his name...it was his bloodline. Something Greyback had kept hidden from others.

And when Greyback found Azrael. The young Yautja had a bio mask with him that had this mark on it. The warpaint symbolizing a skull. It had been Azreal's ever since.

Kaail had very few Descendents left. And they mostly kept to themselves. Not wanting to interact with their nomadic race, seeing how their species become quite different and selfish. Even with their species idolizing their long dead alpha. More so Kaail's violence and his actions. But Azrael was considered the youngest of the bloodline, the recent. Essentially making him a "Prince".

Wanting to prove himself to the most well-known of clans among his people. And having been taught by Greyback for the past few years. He was put in a rite of passage where if he were to survive, he would become Blooded. The Unblooded Youngblood was put into an arena with a beast unlike anything he's faced. All while Elders of the many clans watched him in safety.

*The best way to describe this is imagine the fight between Tarzan and Sabor. But replace Tarzan with the Predator and Sabor with a Thanator like creature from Avatar*

Armed with only wrist blades and a Combistick. Despite the creature almost taking his life. Azreal proved victorious by killing the creature and taking it as his first trophy. He had officially become blooded and considered a warrior among his people despite their doubts. The "Prince" wasn't a pushover.

Now taken seriously by the clans and viewed as an equal to them all. Azrael became more than what people expected him of be. A hunter and warrior unlike any other. Even for his young age. Considering he is 25 during his time of the incidents concerning Nirvana. He was 18 during the time of his first trophy. And under Greyback's watchful eye, he was given the title of "Elite".

But after all that. What was interesting about Azrael and his...hunting tours. Considering his status and being an Elite. He can go on hunts his own until Greyback demanded otherwise.

During all of his hunts and all of his prey. There was a pattern or...something the Elder had noticed. While some hunters would go for any conflict in the hottest seasons. Some love going to an even more intense conflict for more challenge and trophies. But Azrael's hunting tours seemed a little different. On Earth, he mostly went into areas where they were swarmed with what seemed to be death squads, the IDF, or even mafia's, particularly leaders. While most hunters would go for anyone that was considered fair game. It seemed like Azrael seemed to choose the "Worst" in humanity. And even not targeting armed prey who weren't hurting the innocent.

Greyback secretly watched his student as made trophies of men and women that he thought deserved it. And often times some of the kills didn't seem fair or Azrael would go in headfirst to reveal himself. Likely to terrify his enemies before killing them in a ruthless manner that seemed uncalled for. Such as one incident where Azrael was met face to face with a child predator and beating them to death with his own hands. Leaving only behind a destroyed head, and Azrael with the monster's blood on him. As if the monster wasn't deemed worthy to be a trophy. Not even the spine.

Greyback never questioned Azrael's reasoning or his trophies. In a way, he never broke any of the "Rules" per say. But Greyback saw something, and he didn't need an answer. Considering the Yautja's lack for care for human beings. They were game, there was no need to care about their feelings. These days, the Yautja was essentially greedy and arrogant, but not stupid. While some were considered equal to humanity, but that was rare. Such as Naru, Alan "Dutch" Schafer, Mike Harrigan and whoever else. All names within the list of worthy prey that gained the respect of the species. But alias, humanity means nothing to them.

There were also moments Greyback had seen his student look at what was the skull of a slain "StarBeast" a variant of the creature for many minutes. Azrael would simply stare at it for a long time. There is one piece of information that many seem to forget or are aware of. Even though it should be universal. But because of what happened during the final hours of Hadley's Hope.

On the moon of LV-426, rumors spread that the StarBeast returned. A hunting party led by a female clan member and her eldest daughter were in charge of the hunt. To prepare to hunt and kill all of the StarBeast there. They had read the stories of this creature, this...parasite and why they must be destroyed. Despite their efforts, they were shocked of how intelligent and strong the StarBeast was. There was so many of them. One by one, the clan was killed with the clan leader being killed trying to protect her eldest daughter.

But there was one more member in the clan. A young male who wasn't even trained yet and only ten years old. Making him born in 2169. But he knew how to operate some technology. He mostly lived on their ship. That ship was essentially his home for most of his life. That ship was overrun by the StarBeast.

The eldest sister of the family, known as Kaya, was the last survivor of her clan and protecting her youngest brother. To ensure her brother's safety and that their bloodline. Kaya gave her bio mask to him and had him run away as she was swarmed by the StarBeast. Only to be critically injured and brutally killed by one, with the young brother seeing the murder of his sister.

All of this at the time Ripley and the Marines were getting swarmed. The time Ripley was rescuing Newt from the hive, killing the StarBeast, angering what might've been the first queen of the species. The young Yautja had made it onto the dropship quickly after Ripley had left. That same one would witness Ripley take on the queen and win. And after the humans had gone into cyrosleep, the young creature had sent out a distress signal to any nearby ship of his species. But he had time to look at the human woman that defeated the queen.

That young Yautja was Azrael. The one who was found by the Lost Tribe and secretly took him away from the Sulaco while they didn't know. Who had lost everything that day and witnessed Ripley's actions. The story of Kaail wasn't the only thing that inspired Azrael. But it was also Ripley.

Azrael's tribe, the descendants of Kaail who are hunters. But not like the usual ones. Taking the tale of Kaail seriously to its core. While most of their species would hunt others in the name of sport or glory, being game game hunters. Their hunting tours would mostly revolve around hunting the ones they considered "Unworthy". Prey to them that deserved to be killed. Such as murderers, rapists, oppressors, and others like them. The ones that were deemed monsters as they studied humans carefully. The clan's symbol was recognized by what was a skull. In a way, they were essentially "Grim Reapers" or likely "Angels of death". And Azrael was the recent member of the clan. But their history, and nearly all of them were gone when the explosion on LV-426 happened. All that remained was Azrael and Kaya's bio mask.

Keeping his all-female family's early empathetic teachings with him and learning the harsher ways of hunting by an all-male pack of hunters with Greyback. Azreal had become a combination of ruthlessness Greyback had not seen with any of the hunters he had taught over the years. But something was inside that young prince that essentially said "Fuck you" to the cold and unflinchingly harshness of the cosmos. A spirit that seemed to rival the likes of Kaail during his legacy.

Compared to the likes of "Feral" in 1719, "El Diablo" in 1987, or "Ghost" in 1997. Who were considered game hunters who didn't care for humanity. Azrael is essentially an angel of death in a selfish society that doesn't seem to care about the lives of other creatures. Where idolization of violence is an answer even where females are considered equals. Azrael is among the few that tries to tie his ancestor's legacy and morals into the hunt. And being motivated by the thing that made him truly understand it even more. The loss of what was considered most important to him. To become a true hunter.

In a way, Azreal is essentially if Newt somehow escaped and maybe didn't meet Ripley or if she somehow lost her along the way. And Newt would grow up angry, using that anger to kill the ones she deemed "Unworthy". Or if you wanna make it more fucked up, if Hazel and Hilda survived but their parents and guardians didn't. But the Newt comparison is better. Or maybe if Ripley didn't have someone to help her through her trauma. And all Azrael had anger to help him along the way. Because he was raised by men who likely didn't consider the emotions of a traumatized child.

Because the day Ripley gained a new family. On that same day, Azreal lost everything.

So, when the time came when Nirvana had reports of the StarBeast returning. And that the "StarBeast Killer" Ellen Ripley was there. Azrael and another Elite, a heavyweight known as Abbam. A warrior who highly respected Azrael's skills but was the opposite of him, morally wise. They were put in charge of a pack of young males who were eager to makes trophies of the creature. But to Azrael, this wasn't just a hunt for ultimate game...but to him, revenge.

This StarBeast wasn't a stupid term that some humans would consider a "Bug" an "Ant". Or the scientific term they call "Xenomorph XX121". To him this, "Ultimate Prey" this creature that his species and the vast universe dubbed "The StarBeast" was a cancer that should be killed. Not to be idolized, not to be controlled, but to be fully exterminated.

But also, he would want to meet that human woman. The stories of her that were shared on Earth, her history and the recorded battle from his bio mask those 15 years ago on the Sulaco. His species dubbed her "The StarBeast Killer".

Yet to Azrael, he saw someone that reminded him of his eldest sister Kaya.

[arcaenawrites]

Enchanted to meet you

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Neuvillette x fem!reader

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Another aristocratic party filled with single nobles looking for a partner, but no one has ever caught your eye. That is until you lock eyes with a white-haired stranger and everything else just disappears.

Yes this story is inspired by Taylor Swift’s “enchanted”. Yes I am a big Neuvillette simp. Someone please help me ;-;

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Sitting on the edge of your bed, you sigh. Your parents have been set on finding you a suitor of proper noble standing, since you have yet to be wed to someone since you’ve come of age. This has led them to send you to countless parties filled with single nobles just to find a match for you. You however, despised it. None of them could ever understand that you’re not just an object. Men appear to be terrified of women who can think for themselves. That’s probably why you haven’t received a lot of proposals yet. This however, wasn’t the usual type of party. Yes, a lot of single nobles were attending, but it wasn’t specifically a party to mingle. It was to celebrate our archon Focalors, and honor her. It was our way of showing our loyalty to the archon. Usually my parents were the ones attending, but this time they decided to send me in. God, I know their plans.

So here you were, waiting for the maid to come over with the dress your parents prepared for you. Although you disliked the parties, wearing the dresses is something you’ve always quire adored. They tend to make you look like a goddess after all. While waiting for your maid to arrive, you start to wonder what kind of dress your mother has picked out. When the door opened, you gasped. It was absolutely beautiful. It was a pearly white, with blue accents to match the hydro archons’ colors. A beautiful bow on the back had room for your vision, which to no ones surprise is a hydro vision. Your maid helps you into it, and you take a spin. It was absolutely perfect. The maid then finished your hair and makeup, and you once again managed to look like a goddess. The archons should be jealous. Once you were ready, you were guided to the carriage that was waiting to bring you to the palace. Perfect timing, you are punctual as always. 

You were lucky your parents are high ranked nobles, it meant you got to live in the capital and only had to travel 15 minutes by carriage. You preferred the longer rides though: you’d get to see the outside world your parents never allowed you to visit. As you were looking out the window, you saw the familiar fence of the building enter your sight. It was time to put on your mask and mentally prepare you for the party. The archon surely is an experience after all. Then, like clockwork, you arrive and as you show your invitation, you get allowed into the building. You politely thank them, and make your grand entrance. Turning heads as always, you simply make your way to the banquet, deciding the delicacies are the only reason why this is worth it. 

Suddenly a tall man stands behind you, looking at the delicacies you’re enjoying. In your mind you roll your eyes, mentally preparing to reject another proposal.

“Lady Furina truly is a master at picking delicacies, isn’t she?” A gentle, deep voice speaks behind you. You quickly counter his words. “She surely does know how to make a party worth going to.” Your comment makes him smile, and you continue eating the delicacies. “You do not spend your time around the other nobles. Why do you choose not to?” he asks you curiously, a hint of playfulness in his voice. “All they think about is marriage and producing heirs, they lack the braincells needed to converse with me.” you say, amuse in your voice. The playful conversation starts, as you throw around slick remarks at each other. He isn’t like any of the other nobles you’ve met. He is intelligent, maybe a little too intelligent. But you like that, you finally have someone you can converse with properly, who isn’t turned away by your own intelligence. You had no idea who this mysterious man was, but you wanted him. For the first time ever, you were attracted to someone. After a while of conversing, the dancing starts and he asks you to join him for a dance. You agree, and as the dance starts, you find yourself matching him perfectly. You danced around like you have practiced together your entire lives. It left some people staring, even going as far as to stop dancing themselves just to watch the chemistry between the two mystery nobles. Who was this man, you wondered, wishing you could know already.z Sadly, it was a masked ball, so there was no way to find out. That is, until the clock strikes midnight and everyone has to take off their masks.

But like fate designed, about half an hour before midnight, you got the news your father fell ill, and you had to return back immediately. You apologize to your mystery man, and turn to leave. While walking away, you look back at him once more, feeling enchanted as you dance your way to the exit as to not raise suspicion as to where you were going. You exit the party, and enter your carriage. As you are on your ride home, you catch yourself blushing. This mysterious man, who you have only met tonight, already has you in a tight grip. Sadly, you had no way of finding out who he was. Oh, the things you would do to hear that voice again. It was deep, stern, but gentle. It was mysterious, yet familiar. You could almost swear you heard that voice before. But alas, you couldn’t place it. As you arrive home, you rush to your fathers’ side. Though he didn’t look great, the doctor assured you that he would recover, and you had nothing to worry about. And of course, as soon as the talking with the doctor was finished, your parents turned to you and your mother starts speaking. “We know we pulled you away from the party early, we’re sorry for that. If it wasn’t for your father falling ill.. we really hoped you’d find a candidate for marriage today. But alas, I think we’ll have to arrange a marriage for you ourselves. We know you don’t like it, but you have to continue our bloodline and produce an heir.”. Hearing the last sentence, your face turns into one of disgust. “Mom, you know I don’t want that.”. But you knew fighting was pointless. That is, if you still refused to meet anyone. “I met someone at the masked ball. I do not know who he was, but he is the one I wish to marry.”. You say, a stern look on your face. Your mother gasps, and starts asking all about your night while your father simply nods at you. You tell her all about the mysterious, white haired man and how you’ve become absolutely smitten with him. Your mom decides that she’s going to look for the man of your dreams, jumping at any chance to marry you off to some other noble.

The entire night you are left wondering who he was, if he was just as enchanted to meet you as you were to meet him, if he had his eyes on someone or perhaps even was promised to someone already. You wanted him, you needed him. Did he want you too? God, it was 2 am and here you were questioning everything over a man whose name you didn’t even know. Over the course of the next few days, you spent your time fussing around trying to find the man. That is until your parents send you off to the court of Fontaine to witness a trial, and you’re once again dressed all pretty to do some boring noble thing. It supposedly is a pretty big and important trial, something about the disappearances of girls? It made you wonder if it was even safe to go. Regardless of that, you promised your parents you wouldn’t complain anymore as long as they let you look for the mysterious man. You step into the carriage and head to the opera epiclese, and enter the building, looking for your seat. Once everyone is seated, the show begins. Because that’s what these trials are. One big show. Then, the iudex enters and takes his seat. You gasp. The moment you see his eyes, it brings you back to the night of the masked ball. You have to get him this time, you can’t let him go again! So you sit through the trial, unable to pay attention to anything but the iudex. The trial passes, and you rush out hoping to catch him. You wait, and wait, and wait. By now everyone else has left, and a melusine walks up to you. You’re not paying much attention, but she’s basically begging you to go and leave. That is, until someone walks in and asks her if everything is alright. You look up, eyes wide and a bright blush on your face. It’s him.

The moment his eyes meet yours, his posture changes. “It’s.. you..” he says, a hint of disbelief in his voice. You hurriedly stand up and look him straight in the eyes. “I was hoping this day would come.. no one was able to tell me the name of the noble lady I danced with that day, or where she went when she fled.” He smiles with a genuine kindness. Your heart skipped a beat. “I’ve tried looking for you, yet I couldn’t find a single trace.” He admits, and you tell him about the time you spent thinking of him, dreaming of him, trying to find him and the questions you had about him. The two of continue talking for hours, lost in conversation. You lost track of time, and eventually the driver of your carriage stormed past a guarding melusine, angry at you for making him wait this long. The iudex glares at him and sends him home, promising he’ll see you home safely. He takes you out to dinner, dancing, and what is simply the perfect date. Eventually, you walk to the streets of Fontaine together, getting a few weird looks from people. After all, the iudex is rarely seen on the streets. After a while, he takes you to your home. Standing in front of your door, he turns to you. Without thinking, he leans forward and kisses you. Not a second of doubt in your heart, as you kiss him back. He’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

It was then, that he gets on one knee. “Now that I’ve found you again, I refuse to let you go. I was absolutely enchanted to meed you. Will you make me a happy man and be my wife?”

And with your parents watching from the doors, your answer stands.

“Yes.”

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Please request more character oneshots istg writing is my coping mechanism rn

[difanime]

Naruto Shippuden

“我々はベイン, 神だ”

Having watched the entire Naruto series nearly ten times, I can confidently say that this is one of the most fascinating battles in the entire story. It is not just about physical strength, but a collision of opposing views on peace influenced by personal experiences.

Before Naruto was born, the Kyubi was controlled by the Masked Man (who called himself Uchiha Madara) and caused mass destruction to the Hidden Leaf Village. Later, the Kyubi was sealed in Naruto’s body. Therefore, Naruto grew up isolated and treated like a monster by the villagers. However, he never lost faith in the goodness of people and believed that peace could be achieved as long as people tried to understand each other.

On the other hand, Nagato grew up surrounded by war and suffering. After losing his parents and best friend Yahiko, he abandoned Naruto's idealistic view. Nagato believed that people could never understand true pain unless they experienced it. For him, peace could only be achieved by forcing the world to suffer equally, creating fear so intense that nations would avoid war out of terror. This belief led him to collect the Nine-Tailed Beasts and plan to use their combined power as a weapon for intimidation. What Nagato did not know, however, was that the Masked Man was manipulating him as part of the Eye of the Moon Plan.

In short, both Naruto and Nagato wanted peace, but their methods were exactly the opposite. Naruto believed in mutual understanding, while Nagato believed in fear and pain. To avenge his past, Nagato killed innocent people and destroyed countless homes, all to make the village feel the same pain he endured.

This battle is powerful and has become a classic because Naruto wins not only through strength and battle strategy but also through understanding. After defeating the Six Paths, Naruto refuses to kill Nagato but instead chooses to listen to his story and share his own suffering. He tells Nagato about Jiraiya's teachings, how revenge only creates more hatred, and how breaking the cycle of pain requires hope instead of fear. This eventually moves Nagato.

This scene perfectly highlights the anti-war message of the anime: peace built on fear is fragile, while peace built on understanding is lasting. It is easy to see how both sides became who they are—Naruto, shaped by loneliness but saved by kindness, and Nagato, consumed by loss and abandoned by hope. In the end, empathy wins.

However, though Nagoto’s ideology is wrong, I cannot agree with Naruto. In the world, there are some people suffering while others live in happiness. How could someone live in happiness, without reaching out to help those who suffered the most and simply say “I understand you”? Naruto’s peace is built on understanding but more on an ideal social state where everyone is treated the same (as in an ideal communist society). Otherwise, Naruto’s belief is “suppressing,” because it asks those who live in pain to suppress their emotions. However, as pain accumulates, war is the only option to let them out. There should be no perfect understanding if inequality exists.

For those who love battle, I suggest playing Ultimate Ninja Storm (1-4). The series covers all the significant plots in Naruto, and the music and gameplay are excellent.