#I have so many concepts and not enough brain power

[kittyit]

One thing I don't like about trans critical spaces is how they are focused on trans women being unattractive and 'cringe.' this is just my personal experience, but I have been sexually victimized by multiple trans women, most of whom passed, many of whom were skinny and beautiful and most of which had high brow tastes and no interest in anime or other cringe topics. one of these TIMs was a serial sexual assailant and I think probably attracted to underage boys, and she was also beautiful and charismatic. Meanwhile, I also know multiple trans women who are good people and don't infringe on female spaces but who are conventionally "ugly", broad-shouldered, and have masculine interests. It also seems like the only thing TIMs criticize about each other publically is being "ugly", large, or fat.

my position has consistently been for about 15 years that mocking someone's appearance is not a feminist act. it simply isn't.

mocking appearance is essentially a cruel hobby, it's primate social aggression we're using our huge brains for. it's really fun, and that's why almost everyone does it. i sometimes do it too, in private, in intimate company, and it's enjoyable. i say this to clarify that despite my position, i don't set myself apart or above from women who do it. i do it too. and it's constant in basically every subculture online. julie bindel actually posted on her facebook recently troubled about this same thing. as you said, it's so common in queer/trans circles too, the long-forgotten 2013 values of tenderqueerism fallen to the wayside. stan culture, politics, just basically everything...i really can't stress enough that in my opinion, it is a hobby

mocking appearances is not feminist or activism. it quite often is anti-feminist. it's kindergarten stuff to not judge a book by its cover. it doesn't matter what a male person looks like - he is still male and all considerations that apply to male people apply to him. i don't need to think a male person has a hideous appearance to criticize him for any of the oppressive acts he's doing. focus on appearance (or other unrelated personal attacks) often takes the sting out of a criticism of someone's character, morals or actions and makes your argument easier to dismiss. and of course the now mocked & dismissed concept that when you rip into someone's appearance, you do friendly fire to anyone around who shares those features. but of course this doesn't matter to anyone because it's 1. so fun 2. we're so used to it 3. everyone is doing it 4. so who cares? (I do. However)

i also just can't really scrape up that much finger wagging anymore at women who do spend a huge amount of time blowing off steam mocking the insane parodies that trans women present as. it's basically evil imaginative play. it's just not activism and acting like it is, as you said, is really detrimental to radical feminism being understood as a feminist way of thought that deeply affects women's lives.

as for the rest of this, have you read pronouns are rohypnol? you do not have to call a serial rapist pedophile you knew she. there is no one here but us, he cannot hear you. i encourage you to free up processing power in your mind, especially if you've survived trans male violence. calling the men who harmed you he can be a turning point in reclaiming your own sense of reality, it was for me

[jaebeomsbitch]

I wrote most of the virgin x eddie fic but my brain is just so empty. I need a palette cleanser to get my brain in the right head space to finish both cherry lips and unnamed virgin fic. I have so many concepts and not enough brain power.

[foldingfittedsheets]

Something that literally changed my life was working with a friend on a coding thing. He was helping me create an auto rig script and was trying to explain something to me but his words were just turning into static in my brain. I was tired and confused and there was so many new concepts happening.

I could feel myself working toward a crying meltdown and was getting preemptively ashamed of what was about to happen when he said, “Hey, are you someone who benefits from breaks?”

It broke me.

Did I benefit from breaks? I didn’t know. I’d never taken them.

When a problem frustrated or upset me I just gritted my teeth and plowed through the emotional distress because eventually if you batter and flail at something long enough you figure it out. So what if you get bruised on the way.

I viscerally remembered in that moment being forced to sit at the table late into the night with my dad screaming at me, trying to understand math. I remembered taking that with me into adulthood and having breakdowns every week trying to understand coding. I could have taken a break? Would it help? I didn’t know! I’d never taken one!

“Yes,” I told him. We paused our call. I ate lunch. I focused on other stuff for half an hour. I came back in a significantly better state of mind, and the thing he’d been trying to explain had been gently cooking in the back of my head and seemed easier to understand.

Now when I find myself gritting my teeth at problems I can hear his gentle voice asking if I benefit from breaks. Yes, dear god, yes why did I never get taught breaks? Why was the only way I knew to keep suffering until something worked?

I was relating to this same friend recently my roadtrip to the redwoods with my wife. “We stopped every hour or so to get out and stretch our legs and switch drivers. It was really nice. When I was a kid we’d just drive twelve hours straight and not stop for anything, just gas. We’d eat in the car and power through.”

He gave a wry smile, immediately connecting the mindset of my parents on a road trip to what they’d instilled in me about brute forcing through discomfort. “Do you benefit from breaks?” he echoed, drawing my attention to it, making me smile with the same sad acknowledgement.

Take breaks. You’re allowed. You don’t have to slam into problems over and over and over, let yourself rest. It will get easier. Take. Breaks.

[nocturnowlette]

If you wanna feel like a puppy for a bit, read this. Trust me.

Hello. There's a fun little visualization and focus exercise you can do to feel a bit more fluffy/fuzzy for a bit, if you'd like to follow along, but read slowly and in a private environment (preferably lying down). Focus on my words and read them carefully, as if you're listening to someone speak them.

In fact, I'd like to teach you something neat about focus.

Us creatures have quite a powerful sense of focus, however, most of the time, it's distributed to everything around us at once. We need to focus on our surroundings, our task in front of us, the music we're listening to, the senses we're feeling, and on and on. However, there are times where our focus gets directed entirely on just one thing.

Most of the time, the word we have for this is "immersion". Those times where everything around you seems to disappear and you find yourself lost in some world. In those moments, nearly your entire mind is focused on just one thing. As a result, you feel the things you're immersed into quite strongly.

Focus on your right hand. See how easy that is? Suddenly, you can isolate that specific part of your body very, very easily.

Focus on your left foot.

Your neck.

Your hair.

Your left forearm.

Both of your calves.

All of your fingers and toes.

Now just your pinky fingers.

Not only is our focus quite powerful, but it can be directed, not just you, but by others. This is a concept used in many things, but among them is meditation, guided meditation, hypnosis, and self-hypnosis.

What you may find interesting about hypnosis, specifically, is that one of the best ways to direct that focus is through visualization.

Focus on your head.

Now your forehead.

Now your brain.

Your brain is where the magic happens. If you read my words, and if you focus on your mind, you might find that it's hard to think your own thoughts while you're reading something. I've been guiding your focus for so long already that it is very, very easy to focus on my words.

With this newfound focus, it's quite easy to let my words relax you. Let's, for example, imagine that your body is turning into liquid.

Focus on your feet and calves.

You notice that they feel quite tired. They're so used to being flexed, being tense, but you have no need for that right now. Focus on the muscles in your calves. Feel them melt, a bit. So long as you're following what I say, you're doing it correctly. The tension you are so used to easily relaxes, and relaxes, and relaxes. It melts more and more.

Focus on your thighs.

The liquid seems to be spreading upwards. Your thighs relax effortlessly. They melt, and melt, and melt. So effortless.

With every bit of tension that disappears, feel your focus on my words only get more intense.

Focus on your hips, and stomach. They relax even easier than your legs. They melt so easily.

The feeling spreads up through your chest to your shoulders. They melt so easily. Like gravity is simply pulling all of the tension right out.

Every part of your mind and body is directed to me.

The feeling spreads to your arms, normally so active. Its so tiring to move them around all day. Feel them melt for me. Everything below the neck is turning into a melted, gooey mass.

Focus on your hands. You will need these to scroll. They move automatically whenever you need to scroll further, and every time you do so is just more proof that you want to focus on my words.

You only get more and more fixated on my every word.

All of this focus can be a lot for your brain to handle. Your brain feels dense, heavy from all of your focus being pushed up, up to the top of your body. Don't you feel so heavy? You'll find that you can hardly keep your head up the more you read, holding it just high enough to keep reading. It's all you want to do right now. Your focus is mine.

With all this pressure on your brain, it may start to feel very, very tired. Being so, so focused on me is a lot on your mind. You might feel that liquid creep up, up into your head. It rises up through the neck, up through the bottom of your skull, filling higher and higher and higher, up up and up until it has finally filled your skull completely, It's surrounding your mind.

Focus even more on my words.

This liquid seems to melt everything it touches. Normally, your mind would be strong enough to protect itself, but it seems too preoccupied on me. The liquid starts to find it's way in.

You feel your mind begin to melt.

The walls of your brain soften, the wrinkles so easily disappearing. The liquid seeps in through every tiny crack, and your brain gets heavier and heavier. So heavy. Your thoughts can't seem to stay together. Some try to pop up, but they're already surrounded. They melt so easily. All of your thoughts melt so easily.

Feel your mind melt more and more.

Focus on how hard it is to think.

Focus on how heavy you feel.

Focus on my every word completely and absolutely.

The next time I say the word "Melt", your mind will be completely gone. Your heaviness will double, and your focus will grow even stronger. Your entire being will devote itself to my words.

Mind collapsing,

filling with liquid,

thoughts disappearing,

nothing left,

Melt.

...

This is a mental state called trance. It feels nice, doesn't it? So hard to think. You don't want to think. So dumb. You love that.

You began reading this to be a puppy, a dumb little puppy. That's adorable.

Bark for me, in your head or out loud.

Good puppy.

You were so eager to feel this way, so fuzzyminded. Your brain is just a big pile of fuzz, just like the rest of you. Too fuzzy to think anything but puppy thoughts.

Bark again.

Good puppy.

Every time you bark, your mind just gets fuzzier and happier.

Bark.

Good puppy.

Every time you're told "Good puppy." you feel so happy, so so happy that you're following orders. Every time you hear it, you feel your ears perk up and feel so, so happy and so, so dumb.

It can be from me, from your owner, or from anyone you trust.

Bark.

Good puppy.

And just like that, you're trained.

Bark.

Good puppy.

You just wanna bark your mind away.

Bark.

Bark.

Bark.

Good puppy.

Good puppies follow orders from their owners. it's what puppies do. You want to be a Good Puppy, right? Of course you do.

Bark your mind away.

Good puppy.

...

I will bring you back up from trance in a moment, but you are allowed to stop reading here for as long as you wish. You can leave here and will eventually rise out of trance, but slowly. You'll feel happy and very very dumb. If you have an owner, you'll message them and act like the cute puppy you are. Or, you can just lie down and live in this feeling. Once you're ready to come back up, read ahead.

...

Focus is quite easy to return to normal. In fact, it's natural. I will count up from the numbers 1 to 10, and return every bit of your mind and body back to you. Once I say "Wake Up", you will feel completely returned to normal. Let's begin.

1.

Feel your brain begin to reform, thoughts becoming possible again.

2.

Feel your mind solidify, able to think now, but finding it very hard.

3.

Feel your body start to solidify again, feeling your muscles return to normal.

4.

The liquid drains out of your mind, giving your thoughts some room to breathe and connect, and making your brain feel lighter.

5.

You find it easy to move your legs again. Move them.

6.

You find it even easier to move your stomach, chest, and shoulders.

7.

You're becoming more and more aware of your surroundings.

8.

Your arms become easy and light to move.

9.

Mind speeding up, up, and up. Feeling happy and refreshed. Your head becoming so, so light.

10.

Wake up.

...

Welcome back. I hope that was both fun and informative. This was a bit of an experiment, so I am genuinely curious if it was effective. If it's not too much to ask, perhaps reblog this with a comment on how it felt. Or just bark, puppy. I'd be happy either way.

I do hypnosis stuff, puppy stuff, and anything else I wish. Follow if you're interested.

Regardless, have a nice day.

Update: I have two new scripts currently.

If you want to enter a Puppy Mindset whenever you wish, read this post. I assure you that it's worth it.

If you wanna fall into a puppy mind space much, much easier from now (especially to me), read this post.

Enjoy~

[lowkeyremi]

JJK CHARACTERS AND THEIR ICKS

basically things they do that make you upset. this is a joke so please do not attack me. y'all already know i never miss a chance to slander gojo!!! credit to my sweet mutual lene (@satorisoup) for giving me this idea!!! GO READ HER'S (if you're into haikyuu)

Gojo

PLEASE. He 100% leaves his clothes on the floor and it really grates your nerve when the hamper is RIGHT THERE!!! and he just leaves them right in front of it. It's so embarrassing when you have guests over and they just pull a dirty sock from between the couch cushions.

Yuji

I love him but I just KNOW he leaves toothpaste in the sink. It's like he doesn't understand the concept of rinsing the sink out after you brush your teeth. You'll finally be making your way into the bathroom to brush your teeth and there's dried spit and toothpaste in the sink.

Megumi

Always. talks. back. It does not matter he always has something to say. "Well you could have just taken out the trash like I asked you to." and he'll say something snarky like, "Maybe if you weren't so soft spoken I would have heard you." BOY SHUT UP BEFORE YOU GET SLAPPED.

Geto

He is a HUGE gossip. "Mimiko was telling me about xyz yesterday." He just doesn't know when to shut up. People think Geto is a very quiet and kept to himself kind of person but when he knows you he will not stop talking shit.

Toji

There are so many things I could say but the worst of them all is the fact that he will wear the same pair of underwear more than twice. "Toji... are those the same fucking boxers you had on Thursday?" You can see the hem line of his boxers and it looks like the same pair from Thursday. He sets down his cup, "Uh, probably. What's today?" ... "IT'S SUNDAY. JUST WASH YOUR CLOTHES!"

Nanami

He's overbearing with tasks. He forgets that you know how to do things and will bug you until he knows you've done them. "Don't forget to take your car to get an oil change soon." You nod.

A few hours later when he returns home, "Have you gone down to get the oil ch-"

"Kento! The love of my life. I know. I'm going tomorrow." ... "Oh, okay. I'm sorry."

Nobara

Leaves her plate/bowl/etc on the table. You've reminded her on multiple occasions that she needs to do it but she just forgets. "Food was great!" She yells with a smile. In no time she's up from the table sprinting to the living room. "Nobara.. your plate." She freezes, "Oh shit right. I'll get it!"

Maki

She snores. It's not the cute kind either, it's the loud obnoxious kind that prevents you from sleeping. You've tried to get her to change her sleeping posture and find other ways to help but it does. not. matter. By the end of the night she will be holding you close. Your back pressed against her front and loud snores ringing in your ear.

Inumaki

Never gives you any kind of warning when he's going to fart he just does it. HE KNOWS they're a lethal weapon but finds it funny whenever you're screaming at him and gasping for air. God forbid he ever farts while you two are in bed because a dutch oven from him is probably enough to kill you.

Shoko

She laughs whenever you trip or get hurt in any kind of way. She doesn't even mean it she just does it. Like say she sees that the pavement is uneven she doesn't say anything and watches you trip, just to laugh about it. "Okay okay okay, I'm so *giggle* sorry. I should have said something, let me help you up."

Sukuna

Thinks because he's lived for a long time he knows everything and then he gets mad when, "This stupid little talking box won't work." (his phone) "This shit is broken again." He complains throwing it to you. "Dude.. it's powered off. 'Mr. I Know Everything.'" He rolls his eyes at you, "I do know everything you shit for brains." You scoff, "See if I ever help you turn on your 'talking box' again."

Choso

He's always second guessing you. He doesn't even realize it either. The two of you will be driving and he's like, "Are you sure you know where we're going? Should I pull up GPS." YOU KNOW WHERE YOU'RE GOING CHILL. He's just really cautious though which is why he asks a million times.

[needle-noggins]

(CW for SA, suicidal ideation) Here we go. My favorite and simultaneously least favorite panel of Vash and Knives.

I've seen a few interpretations of this scene and before we dive into the one that really struck me, let's start with the more... chill one. We're finally introduced to the third gun of Trigun, Vash's angel arm. And the way we're introduced to it involves Knives forcing him to pull the trigger. Of course, since no one knows anything about Knives, the people of Noman's Land blame Vash for Fifth Moon, and Vash likewise blames himself (this is kinda a spoiler but if you've been paying attention, it's just par for the course). However, he's not the one who pulled the trigger, Knives is. It brings up an interesting moral question of blame - do we blame the gun (and Vash, who is being used/objectified as a weapon here), or the person who wanted it to happen? Guns don't kill people, genocidal twins do!

Now for the awful interpretation, the one that makes me cry and wish Vash was real so I could hug him and pay for his therapy. And really highlights how awful Knives is and how far he'd go for his brother in his own, fucked-up way. I touched on this in a previous post about Legato and the Murder Cafe, and the whole time I was thinking about Fifth Moon but didn't want to say anything for the sake of spoilers.

So. Pay attention to the way Vash and Knives are standing. Knives, when he first grabbed Vash's head, was standing in front of him. He moves behind him to better control him and yeah, he's still controlling him via hand on head, and now he's got his other hand gripping Vash's chest, where feathers/wings are manifesting. Knives is assaulting him. If you wanna get crazy with it and say that the angel arm is kinda phallic, you could say... yeah. This is rape. I heard that specific interpretation once and while I accepted it I also don't know if that would be generally accepted or if I'd be called out for it, so I'm trying to tread lightly here.

It also doesn't escape me that of course the angel arm has feminine features like the plants - the plants that, again, humans are exploiting for their ability to create. There's a lot of feminist commentary to be made here but many people have said it better than me. Specifically I'm thinking of this one post I saw about gender fuckery and Tristamp Vash. Anyway.

Also, the atomic bomb/black hole/sun/whatever that is in the middle... It's just so powerful. It's terrifying. The eldritch body horror here is a punch to the gut. What the fuck, Trigun? I thought this was a funky space western!!!

Oh, and here's more commentary on the following few panels:

Vashussy shot, Knives is still right behind him. Yeah, I wasn't kidding about how bad this pose is for them. Knives, you sick fuck.

Vash shoots himself in the leg (a key difference from '98 trigun, lol), because of course he does, but it doesn't free him from the arm.

The arm's getting darker/the light inside is getting lighter! Stampede did an awesome job with their interpretation of the angel arm and I don't think I would have understood it without that. Also, on my first read I didn't notice that Vash is literally levitating, which is cool, but also terrifying because ?? he's not in control of that either??

Finally. A super painful, minimalist, double-page spread. Nightow loves 'em. Vash thinks he's dying (maybe?) and he wishes he had never existed. It's not suicidal ideation per se, but he wishes he didn't exist at all because he's already caused enough suffering. This is a low for him, because he believes so strongly in the concept of the Blank Ticket. (Come on, soupy brain bitch boy, get it together!) He's a monster, it's just how he was born, and he's not in control. Very specifically too, he says "we", and then changes it to "I"... he doesn't blame Knives at all, and that's very him. I want to shake him! Stop playing the martyr, Vash!

[unnerving-presence]

Pls Ghostface, Wesker, Ji-Woon, and Evan when a fem! Survivor flashes them during a trial as an attempt to distract them from killing her or a teammate? Like flashing her panties or boobs at them. 🫣 How would they react

MANNNN 😖

as of right now i only do 3 characters at a time so i will be excluding mr dan man johnson from this one ajdhskfb

☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎��︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎

Albert Wesker:

While there’s no doubt that Wesker is a ruthless, power-hungry individual, his man brain cannot help but submit to the fleshly desires of the world that he so dearly hates. That includes in this very moment, seeing your tits slightly jiggle as you lift your shirt up. If his glasses were off his eyes would be glued to your chest but you can already assume he’d be doing that already behind that grimace plastered on his face.

Wesker recovers very quickly as if you flashing him didn’t almost give him a hard-on on the middle of a trial. He can’t let that distract him from his mission but he fears it already has.. He can already see the mistakes he makes before he even makes them. All he can think about are those breasts and it’s like a virus in his brain. Damn you!

Even he can admit that it was a smart move.. Especially since you made him feel things he hasn’t felt in YEARS. At this point arousal is a foreign concept to him. You flashing him was like him getting smacked with 5 semi-trucks of pure arousal. Even when he thinks about getting back at you he can’t help but drift his mind back to that magnificent view you gave him. He.. actually respects it. You don’t see many people bold enough to show their tits to a random stranger. He views you as a challenge, a worthy foe. And.. a quite attractive one at that.

Ji-Woon Hak:

For a moment that murderous smile was wiped off his face. He’s had fans flash him before, but having his prey do so? That’s quite surprising. Ji-Woon never cared much for romantics, but he didn’t have a problem with free eye-candy. Even if it were just for a moment. While it didn’t exactly effect him, it did distract him long enough for your teammate to escape. Well done.

Recovers quite quickly though and decides that you are a far more valuable target. As said before, he’s seen tits plenty of times. Being flashed is something that doesn’t exactly phase him anymore, though you were a slightly different story. A little surprised, but ultimately not very effective. Cute though..

Sees you as a worthy victim as well. One he’d like to see how else you’d try and defend yourself against him. For his own twisted pleasure he may just keep you alive. He’ll be checking out your behavior in trials to come. He’d love to see what else you can bring to the table. Though he’s not gonna complain if you flash him again..

Evan Macmillan:

The one out of this bunch that actually gets severely effected by your little distraction. It’s already difficult having to kill people against his will, having to live with constant pain rippling through his back, shoulders, and arms. It doesn’t exactly help when an admittedly hot survivor suddenly flashes their magnificent tits right at him.

He wishes he could get you out of his head but he can’t. For the rest of the trial you plague his mind, making it ever more difficult for him to focus and actually hit a damn survivor. In some ways it’s a motivator, making him more brutal for the remainder of the trial. Though at times he gets so distracted that he even steps in one of his traps, causing a bit of an injury he would have to brush off if he were to please the Entity. He’s no weak man by any means, but it’s definitely been a while since he’s a seen a pair. It’s.. gonna take him a bit to regain himself. Maybe even give you the sweet gift of forcefully pushing your head down into a bear trap just so he can think of killing again.

Evan may be a very tough, intimidating killer one wouldn’t want to willingly approach, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel lust. It’s definitely a feeling he hides away, though it quickly erupts into something much more than that when you come around. After that trial he soon does get over it in the sense where he’s not getting constantly distracted during trials. Though he promises to himself that he’ll never forget your face. He’s not after you for the thrill of the hunt. He’s after you for something much, much more than that.

[yandere-daydreams]

Alhaitham & Kaveh give the vibes that they’d own a hybrid, like bunny or sheep darling so they can delude themselves into thinking they’re keeping them safe. or maybe they’re both hybrids too? maybe just Kaveh is?? the possibilities r so endless with this au

tw - implied non///con, unhealthy relationships, dumbification and unbalanced power dynamics.

there are actually so many possibilities with kalhaitham,,,, i can see any of these dynamics being really fun, but i am absolutely in-love with the concept of kaveh finding a stray bunny hybrid while scoping out an empty plot of land for an upcoming project (that is, if his client actually coughs up enough funding, this time) and immediately deciding he just can't bare to leave you all by yourself. alhaitham gets home in time to catch kaveh wrestling you into a bath, having already made a valiant effort to comb the burrs and mud out of your matted fur, and attempts to warn his roommate about how much attention hybrids can demand, how moody and absent-minded rabbits tend to be in particular, but of course, kaveh's too stubborn to listen. since kaveh swears up and down that you'll be staying in his bedroom and cared for with kaveh's meager commissions, he lets it go (even if he does keep tighnari on speed-dial, just in case).

you are a little cute, once you get cleaned up. bunny hybrids tend to be somewhat empty behind the eyes, and you're no exception, perfectly happy to be cared for and doted on and dressed up in kaveh's pretty, frilly outfits so long as it means you're fed well and allowed to spend your days bundled up in kaveh's fluffy, expensive blankets. you don't say much, not when you're alone with alhaitham, but kaveh seems more focused on treating you like some oversized stuffed animal than making conversation - always hauling you into his lap and fawning over your floppy ears, fussing over your outfits and your diet and your rough you must've had it before he took you in.

really, the only time alhaitham hears your voice is as he passes kaveh's door at night, when he pauses to listen to kaveh's cooing and the strangled, muffled sounds you let out, so unlike anything he's ever heard you make before. sometimes, he'll linger longer than he knows he should, fuck his fist as he pictures your plush body bouncing on kaveh's thigh - your big, dumb eyes wide and watery and your little pink nose twitching as you cum for the thousandth time. it's no wonder you've always got that glazed-over, faraway look; he's surprised you can bring yourself to think at all when kaveh's constantly fucking you to the brink of unconsciousness, constantly splitting you open on his tongue or his fingers or his cock whenever alhaitham turns his back. then again, alhaitham would be lying if he said he doesn't see why kaveh is so feral, when it comes to you.

if he had less self-restraint, he would've bent you over the first time he caught you traipsing around the house in one of your tiny skirts, would've told you to get on your knees as soon as he realized exactly what his roommate was using that pretty mouth for. you're lucky he has more self-respect than kaveh does. you're lucky he takes better care of his pets than kaveh does.

you're lucky that, when comes time for his turn to fuck your brains away, alhaitham's already decided he's going to treat you like the animal you are rather than the toy kaveh so clearly wants you to be.

[scorpioriesling]

Those prompts are so good omg… what if smut 38 and 15 with az !?

Midnights

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Azriel x reader

Warnings: smut, mdni, 18+, oral (fem recieving), mentions of weed and alcohol, pining if you squint

Summary: You absolutely cannot sleep, and of course you're out of all of your usual sleep-remedies. Who would be awake at this hour anyway to ask for help? You don't need to think long -- the answer comes through your phone at the moment you needed it.

SR’s Note: Thank you anon for the request and for your patience -- this uses prompts #15 and #38! Enjoy, xoxo

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Every night it was the same -- you'd always end up being scheduled late at the bar, which of course meant getting home at an ungodly hour, thus leaving you to finally lie down in bed in the very early hours of the morning.

You didn't complain; the cash folded neatly inside your bulging wallet kept you quiet about that, especially considering it was a Friday night and the customers at the bar were feeling rather generous tonight.

Although you made enough in tips on top of what you'd earned each hour, it almost made up for the job at hand. Sure, you'd spent your paid eight hours mixing and whisking away at drinks; but you'd also conversed, brought up the energy, and had to play off the frequent attention you'd recieved shift after shift.

There were only so many responses that you could come up with to "let me get your number, baby!" that were light-hearted and fun, but still dodgy enough that you didn't actually need to give it out. Can't hurt a male's ego too bad, if you piss someone off too much, it could cost you a job.

Overall, it was just exhausting.

Nonetheless -- you flipped back and forth between your sheets, desperately searching for sleep; a concept that seemed just out of reach as your eyes fluttered open for the hundredth time, no matter how many times you'd forced them shut.

Reaching toward your bedside table, you clicked the power button on your phone, the bright screen in your dark room causing you to squint at the intensity. 2:53 AM. Why couldn't you fall asleep?

Sighing, you place your phone in its original spot, flopping onto your back and running a hand over your face. You stare blankly at the ceiling, trying to decide what to do. You'd used the last of the sleepy tea that your best friend gave you -- Nesta swore by it -- and were out of weed, which always relaxed you enough that you may drift off easier.

Nesta was for sure asleep by now. She already chastized you for your plans to not attend training with her in the morning -- forgive you, that you'd choose to spend your Saturday morning sleeping in rather than watch her and her boyfriend pretend not to undress eachother with their eyes, thank you -- so, at this hour, she would be long asleep.

As you're racking your brain, your phone buzzes beside you. You reach for it once more, turning the brightness down to see the screen more clearly.

Wow. A message from the last person you'd expect tonight.

You up?

You read the text again, and again, looking up at the name and back at the gray text bubble to make sure you're seeing straight.

I am...

You stare at your phone screen blankly, waiting a few moments before three little dots pop up.

I can't sleep.

You probably should, you type back. Don't you have to be up early tomorrow?

Considering the sounds from down the hallway... I don't think anyone is going to be awake tomorrow morning for training.

You bite your bottom lip, chewing on the skin. So... Nesta definitely was awake. Awake, but... busy. You could just text her instead, ask her for some more of her tea. She would be able to get it to you, seeing as she isn't getting any shut-eye.

But, instead, you type back.

Want to come over?

✧･ﾟ: *

You're rushing around your bathroom, brushing your hair and spraying yourself with perfume when you hear a light tapping on your window. It's then that you look up, meeting your own eyes in the mirror, and scowl. He's just an acquaintence, you think to yourself. Why stress so much over how you look?

Maybe, because he is handsome.

Come on, you mentally slap yourself. You've met him only a few times anyway. He probably won't even care that much.

But you care. You really care-

It is 3 AM, he will understand.

You continue your mental battle in your head as you nervously pad over to your window, drawing the curtains and pushing the glass up. The moonlight bends around his hulking form -- and you can see his dark, touseled hair shining in the pale light. He tucks his wings behind him, leaning so suddenly close to climb through.

"Hey," he utters. You back up as he squeezes through, grunting when his feet finally hit the floor. You stare at him, looking up and down unabashedly. He has ditched his usual leathers for gray sweats, a cotton black tank, and tennis shoes.

Holy shit-

"Are you just gonna stare at me or..."

Your cheeks heat, and you quickly glance anywhere but him.

"No! Uh, no, I... welcome, uh..." you search for words, and he chuckles.

"You just get off work?" He asks, making way through your room for your living room. You trail behind him, your brow only furrowing slightly that you're following him through your apartment.

"Yes...?" You say. He plops down, making to untie his shoes and get comfy on the cushions. You simply watch in amusement, finding it rather hard to tear your eyes away from his massive biceps-

"Do you always stare or am I just now realizing it?" He teases again, kicking his final shoe off as he adjusts his hips on the couch. His arm lazily drapes over the back of it, and you scoff.

"No," you say defensively. "I am just amused that this is the first time you're in my apartment, and you are acting as if you've been here a hundred times before." You shrug, making way for the fridge.

"You got anything to drink?" He asks, changing the subject immediately. You reach inside, crouching to look between the shelves for anything other than the usual.

"Do you want alcohol? Or just a regular drink?" You ask. Azriel chuckles again, and you poke your head out for just a moment to see him smiling lightly at you and shaking his head.

"Ahh," he sighs. "You're a funny girl, Y/N." You raise an eyebrow.

"Just a normal drink, please. Don't want to be too fucked up if I'm going to try and fly out of here later." He reasons. Your heart sinks just a tiny bit at that, wishing he'd stay.

Don't be delusional.

"Water it is." You pull too bottles from the shelf, tossing one to him. He catches it, uncapping and taking a few long drinks before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. You try not to stare again as you make your way to the couch beside him.

"So..." You say awkwardly, reaching for the remote to click on the TV. "What made you uh," you smile nervously. "What made you text me of all people in the middle of the night?"

Azriel shrugs, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "I mean, I told you about your friend and Cass. I hate when they wait so late to start with... you know... whatever they do," he avoids the word.

"Fucking?" You raise an eyebrow, and his eyes meet yours.

"Uh... yeah. That." He coughs, and you smirk, clicking through the suggested shows on Hulu.

"Still doesn't explain why you came here though. Don't you have like, a million friends? Or, a girlfriend or something? I thought you and-"

"Nahh, nah." He interjects, shaking his head. "Just the Inner Circle. Well, them and now you, I guess, since Nesta started bringin' you around."

Your heart swells, the mini-crush on this handsome male from training only growing with every minute he spends on your couch.

"I knew it'd be quieter here, I guess." He says in finality.

You pause, crossing your legs and turning to face him.

"And, how would you know that?"

"Know... what?" He asks.

"Know it would be quiet here?"

He looks side to side, playing with the silver band on his finger. "I don't know, I mean, why wouldn't it be?"

You frown. "Did you just assume I didn't have some else I was spending my time with?" His head tilts to the side in consideration.

"You know what I mean. Fucking?" A light rosy blush fans across his cheekbones, and he shakes his head.

"No, I uh, I didn't think you had anyone here. I know you didn't, actually, um, Cassian told me-"

"Told you what." You demand, inching closer and closer. The smell of mist and cedar infiltrates your senses, and you have to remind yourself to remain steadfast.

"He... he told me you weren't seeing anybody. Haven't been, for a while, actually." You pause, staring into his hazel eyes that search yours.

"Wait, what?" You say. His hand on the back of the couch slides to meet your bare arm, and you almost shudder at the contact. "W-why would he tell you that?" You ask.

Azriel leans closer, his pupils dilating with every inch he draws nearer. He's so close that you can count every light freckle on his nose, see every fracture of color in his irises -- so close, just an inch or two more and his inviting lips would be on yours.

"Because I asked him. About you." His hand on your shoulder slowly trails up, brushing across your shoulder and snaking down toward your hip. You only now realize the position you're in -- you're practically atop him, he casually leans back against the L-shaped couch, and you've all but crawled between his legs and sat in his lap at this point.

"Why ask..." you trail off, and his other hand moves to brush a fallen strand of hair from your forehead. He smiles softly up at you, his thumb brushing against the swell of your cheek.

"I had to know if I actually had a chance," he whispers, his fingers lightly holding your jaw and pulling you down to him. "Before I did this."

His lips were definitely inviting. Warm, and soft as they slid across yours, fitting perfectly against the skin of your own. He held you firmly, pulling you closer so that you were in fact straddling him as he deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping across your bottom lip. You allowed him in, your own dancing with his in a tango of passion as his fingers gripped your hip tighter. His other hand roamed downward, first, lightly gripping the column of your throat. You softly moaned into his mouth, and he smiled into the kiss.

His fingers kept travelling, down, down, over the curve of your breast, where he squeezed lightly before finding purchase on your other hipbone. You fingers tangled in his hair, softly skating through the strands as you continued to relish in the taste of him.

"Sweet thing," he pulls back, only slightly breathless as his half-lidded eyes meet yours. You gulp a few lungfuls of air in, and match his gaze, which is focused on your pelvis, unsubconciously moving in small circles atop his lap. He looks up at you again, chuckling before connecting your lips once more.

"You can't," he breaks the kiss for a breath. "...keep doing that..." He goes back in for more, his hands snaking behind you to grip your ass. You squeak, and he grins slyly at you. "...I can't fuck you on the first night, Y/N," he says, his gaze finding yours again. Oh, how good your name sounds coming from his lips...

"You'll see me for more than just one night?" You ask, and his eyes soften as he pulls you in for another quick peck.

"I'd like to see you every night, if you'd allow me." You giggle, and he smiles warmly up at you before pressing a trail of sweet kisses from the corner of your mouth, down your jawline in a descent over the column of your neck. He lightly bites on the junction between your neck and shoulder, eliciting another soft whine from you.

"Azriel..."

You can feel the pressure between your legs only growing, the thin material of his sweatpants the only barrier between your cotton shorts and his hardening length. He pulls back, his hands lifting you off of him for a moment as he slides down to lay flat on the couch.

"Az... what-"

"Sit on my face, baby." He asks, his fingers tugging on your hips as he adjusts his wings underneath him. Your eyes widen, and he pulls on the waistband of your shorts. "Please... I want to take care of you."

You stand, shucking off your tiny shorts and watch as he marvels at the thong you had on underneath. You peel if from you, discarding them before returning to position yourself right over his awaiting mouth.

"Mmm," he hums, his lips kissing the inside of your thighs softly as you tremble over him. You can feel your arousal leaking from your core, surely trailing down your inner thighs at this point, and you place your hands on the back of the couch as his deliciously rough hands grip your ass again.

"So fucking perfect Y/N..." he mumbles, licking a slow stripe between your folds that has you gasping. "So fucking wet, just for me."

His lips press into you, his tongue working to stimulate every last nerve ending you have down there as you grip the back of the couch, whining and panting pathetically above him. His hands search across your ass, gripping your hips, and holding your thighs wide for him when you try to close them around his head.

"Fuck, Azriel... eating me so good..." you cry out as his lips find your clit, sucking on it harshly without warning. You feel the liquid fire in your lower belly being set ablaze, growing hotter and hotter with each expert flick of his tongue against your dripping heat-

"Mhmm, you like it when I eat you out?" He mumbles, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips. You throw your head back, moaning loudly as his tongue dodges in and out of your core.

"Fuck! Please... oh Gods.. yes Az-" you pant, your hands braced behind you on his thighs as your eyes look down to meet his. Your met with a sinister stare as his mouth detaches from you one last time.

"Come for me, sweet girl," he commands. You cry out desperately, his tongue so deep inside you that his nose nudges your clit with each minstration. A few more swipes of his lips against your pussy, and you're coming undone.

"Azriel!" You groan, your lower half slightly shaking as your orgasm shoots through you. His hands hold you in place over him, his tongue licking up every last drop of you that spills out before kissing your inner thighs one more time.

He delicately lifts you off of him, laying you down on the cushions as he stands up beside the couch, leaning down to kiss you deeply. You can taste yourself on him, and he allows you to by kissing you longer, and longer...

"Sweet girl," he pulls back, his hand cupping your cheek lightly. You gaze up at him, all the adoration in the world as his chin glistens in the moonlight with your essence. "Tell me where I can find you a towel?"

Your heart melts, and you silently point to the bathroom. He makes his way over, coming back a few moments later with a warm rag to help clean you up. You move to take it from him, but he only shakes his head at you.

"I said I would take care of you," he offers. You stare at him, bewildered where your night has gone and what all has come out of it. Once you're clean, he simply picks you up in his arms, carrying you gently to your bed before resting you upon it and tucking the covers around you comfortably.

"Az," you reach for him when he moves to leave your bedside, and he turns to face you once more.

"Yes?" He asks. You grab his hand, pulling him close to you.

"Please, stay?"

He sighs, running a hand through his hair again. "You know I want to-"

"So stay," you cut in.

"We haven't even had a first date yet," You can practically see the war in his eyes, but reluctantly, he folds his wings in close and walks around to the other side of the bed and pulls the blankets back.

"I don't want you to think this is just for the night," he continues, nuzzling in close and pulling you flush against his chest. "I want things to be more than... just, something for one night, Y/N."

"I do too Az, really," you kiss his cheek, and he grins.

"And, I promise, I won't think its just for one night. I'll trust you," you say, and his fingers roam over your bare bottom, resting comfortably there as his heavy-lidded stare meets yours once more before you drift off in his warm embrace.

"As long as you come back tomorrow."

✧･ﾟ: *

[misc-obeyme]

Time Traveler's Vow

Happy birthday, Barbatos!

I was wracking my brain for an idea to write something for today and then this hit me. Just as a warning, it contains some discussion of death. We've all thought about what might happen to Barb if MC ever died, the lengths he might go to in his grief. This story is about that concept. I hope I did it justice!

GN!MC x Barbatos

Warnings: some discussion of death and grief

When Barbatos made his vow, he never expected things to end up this way. Too many years of refusing to look into the future had blinded him to this moment, the one moment he needed to see most. The moment when your absence was more than just a temporary ache. When the sound of your coffin closing sent shockwaves of pain through his limbs, his veins, his heart.

He couldn’t have known that he would end up on his knees at Lord Diavolo’s feet, begging for just one chance to go through time to save you. The pity in the Young Master’s eyes was piercing. It hurt him almost as much as your death, but not quite enough to stop him from pleading.

At first Barbatos refused to ask because he knew the answer already. But as the days passed, the pain deepened. It was unlike anything that even an ancient and powerful demon such as himself had ever felt in his long and complicated life. It drove him to desperation, to the selfish desire to ask even if just to hear the refusal, one that he knew it would hurt Diavolo to give him.

Knelt on the floor of Diavolo's office, hand on his heart, meeting the young lord's eyes, Barbatos knew that there was no other being to whom he would make such a supplication.

“Young Master.” His voice was trembling. The waver in it filled him with both shame and determination. “You know I would never ask you for anything. My duty is to stay by your side, always. And yet if you ever found it in your heart to grant one request from me, let it be this.”

Diavolo’s expression remained schooled, even if his eyes gave away how he was truly feeling. He did that for Barbatos, knowing that if he displayed too much emotion it would make this even more difficult.

“Barbatos-“

“Please,” Barbatos said.

The rawness of this single word made Diavolo close his eyes and let out a slow breath. When he opened them again, they were full of complications.

“You know I can’t let you do this,” Diavolo said. He held out a hand for Barbatos to take. “Please, stand up. I can’t stand to see you like this.”

Barbatos felt himself turn to stone as he took Diavolo’s hand and got to his feet. He settled into his butler stance and bowed stiffly. “I understand.”

“Do you?” Diavolo asked, preventing Barbatos from fleeing the room. “If you alter time to save MC now, we both know the consequences would be devastating. This time, it would change too much.”

“I know,” Barbatos said. “Of course you are correct, my lord.”

Diavolo frowned. "And yet you asked anyway."

“Forgive me. It was a moment of weakness. It will not happen again. Now if you will allow me to prepare dinner…” Barbatos said. It was his way of asking if he could leave.

Diavolo sighed and nodded. Barbatos left the room, knowing that this display of vulnerability would impact the way Diavolo saw him from that moment on. And yet he couldn’t talk himself out of making the request. In fact, he wasn’t so sure he wouldn’t break his vow after all. It would be so easy to simply slip through time, briefly, quickly, and he could alter it in such a way that no one would be the wiser.

Barbatos was uncertain about whether or not he would lose the battle to his grief. If he did, his vow would be broken. If he didn’t, his soul would be instead. Without you, he might as well be empty.

After that, Barbatos could feel Lord Diavolo watching him. The brothers were keeping an eye on him, too. All of them shared his grief on some level, of course. They had seen your lifeless body, too. Barbatos noticed the faraway look in Solomon’s eyes and knew that he was not the only one suffering.

And yet, it felt as though he was completely alone in the depth of his despair. Barbatos closed himself off completely, unable to connect with the others over the loss of you. For him, it was as though you had taken root inside his heart and the day you died was the day that the great tree that had grown from it was felled, yanked unceremoniously from his blood vessels, leaving him lifeless.

The empty space where you once flourished felt now like poison, the antidote of which no one could bring him. No one but you.

And there was only one way for him to see you again.

With each passing day, the stone that Barbatos was now composed of became stronger, harder, and more impossible to penetrate. He did not let anyone in. And they watched him solidify with growing concern.

When the weight of his own heart became too heavy, Barbatos found himself on his knees again.

His room was filled with chaotic teal light and a fog of darkness - his demonic aura gone awry around him.

His demon form had exploded out of him, his tail in a frenzy, his sensitive horns twitching uselessly, his gloved fists on the floor.

His tears pooled slightly on the floor beneath him as he tried to prevent his magic from propelling him into the past, fighting to stop himself from breaking his vow to Lord Diavolo. It was who he was, it was the one thing he had maintained with pride for so long - his conviction and his penance and his reason for existing.

It seemed impossible that anything would make him want to throw it all away. But he was ready to do just that and for what? For the small chance that you might return to him? Return to him in a way that would ruin the future of everything he'd spent so much of himself working toward?

Barbatos could hear Diavolo outside his bedroom door. The Young Master’s voice was strained as he yelled, trying to break his way in. But Barbatos’s power was filling the room and preventing entry. No one could reach him, not like this. No one could stop him and he was losing the battle with himself.

Barbatos crouched down further onto the floor and two words left his lips in a broken whisper.

"MC… please…"

The magic around him crackled, a tempest of teal and black, endless chimes from an unseen clock, the continual ticking of an invisible second hand.

Time paused.

It was the first break. A crack in his structure that would let out the part of him he was trying so desperately to contain.

Or so he thought.

After a moment, Barbatos opened his eyes because he realized that he was not the one who had paused time. And if not him, then who…?

"Barbatos."

Barbatos recognized the voice instantly. The sound of it zipped immediately to his heart, squeezing painfully. His name on your lips was too much. Was he hallucinating now? Was this the beginning of him truly falling apart? You had never had time powers. This had to be him manifesting a version of you that didn't exist. One that was alive, that could move through time, that spoke his name.

Barbatos couldn't move. His body was still too much like a statue - the marble of his countenance too sturdy to break just yet.

In the room where time had ceased, where his magic had frozen in place like an abstract installation of green lightning and black fog, you knelt before him.

He could see your feet, your hands, the edges of your clothes.

But it couldn't be real. He had seen you die. He had watched as your corpse was placed into the ground. He had been mourning you for months.

You settled on the floor in front of him, sitting cross legged as if you were prepared to wait until he came alive again.

"I'm sorry you had to go through this," you said. Your voice was soft, but there was something different about it, too. A new lilt that he didn't recall from before. "I didn't die in the timeline I'm from. Instead, you sacrificed yourself to save me. I lost you and I lost myself at the same time. So I made my own vow. To find you again. I spent years and years learning to use the doors in your bedroom. It was mostly trial and error. But I finally found it. I finally found the timeline in which I died and you didn't. This is the only one where you survive."

The truth of this explanation hit Barbatos harder than anything he had yet experienced. It crushed right through the stone around him, breaking him into a million pieces as surely as he thought your death already had.

Barbatos looked up, sat back on his heels, put his hands in his lap, and met your eyes.

You looked like yourself, but different. There was something ageless about you, something like magic sparkling beneath your skin. As though you were no longer fully human, now partly transformed by the way you'd doubtless been moving through the fabric of time and space.

"MC." Barbatos had never once said anything that sounded like a prayer until that moment.

You smiled at him, an expression full of melancholy and hope all at once. "I know I'm maybe not the same," you said. "I know you had to bury the version of me from your own timeline. I know I'm not the same me that you cared for. But… would it be okay if I stayed?"

Trees cannot grow in stone. But they can take root in the cracks between, reaching down to find living soil and up to find nurturing light. The empty places in his heart began to fill as you asked that final question, looking at him like all your dreams might come true if he only said yes.

Barbatos smiled back at you. As if he would ever say anything else.

"I would wish for nothing more than for you to remain here by my side," he said. "No being understands as well as I that you are still you, no matter what timeline you've arrived from. When you have spent so much time searching for me, how could I ever hope to turn you away?"

Time began again.

Barbatos's magic began to settle, returning to him like a sleepy cat, curling up and purring itself to sleep.

Barbatos pulled you to your feet as he rose himself. He kept your hands clasped in his as he tugged you closer to him.

"MC," he said. "I should have trusted that you would find a way back to me."

You laughed and there was a strain of magic lingering even there. "I hope you never doubt me again."

Barbatos looked solemn. "I wouldn't dream of it."

He pulled you into a kiss, his arms enclosing you, pressing you to him like he would never let you go ever again. His power settled even further and he knew that soon Lord Diavolo would come crashing through his bedroom door. And he would be able to say that he kept his vow. And you would be able to say that you kept yours.

But for that moment, he let himself kiss you, let himself feel the tingling magic in your lips, the endless thrill of your touch, the reality of you here in his arms.

For that moment, Barbatos softened in the face of a love so strong that you had traversed the paths of time in his stead to find him, as he had been so close to doing to find you. And he vowed to himself that he would never need to face this choice again because he would not allow himself to lose you.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[merakiui]

omg i just watched damsel on netflix (i recommend it’s so good!!!) and i just imagine octo azul who dwells at the depths of the ocean. every year, a sacrifice must be made to him so he won’t destroy the kingdom!

this year, they send y/n down to be eaten, but instead of eaten, he falls in love! this hardworking and diligent person is so different from all the other princesses.

little angelfish is trying so hard to escape and go back to the surface but its okay!!! tako azul will do everything in his power to ensure you are safe and sound. maybe even stuff you either babies to keep you entertained ><

Omg omg I've seen it as well!!! What an exciting film!!! >w< I could absolutely see this same concept with Malleus. 👀 but that is a brain rot for another time hehe.

Throwing you to the tako... >_< you find yourself trapped in a complex cave system. The only way out is up, as the ocean is everywhere below. It's where the beast lurks, sliding soundlessly through submerged tunnels while you walk over precarious ledges and peer off of dangerous precipices, eyeing the severe drop to the water below. You're walking with a limp, pain and betrayal set deep beneath your skin. It hurts, but you have to keep moving. Otherwise the beast will catch you and you'll lose your life like the many princesses who came before you.

You managed to narrowly escape him earlier, when he ensnared you and you swiped at him with your dagger. He had been so caught up in you, watching with wide eyes, his horizontal pupils studying you intensely, that the momentary distraction allowed you to slip out of his hold. Now you're doing all that you can to survive and escape. You're determined. You won't die down here!

You put up a valiant fight, but Azul has done this one too many times. He knows these caves like the back of his own hand. It was only a matter of time before you found yourself in his grasp once more. You fight him, kicking and screaming, as he drags you into the water. He assures you he won't hurt you. You're unlike the previous princesses he's encountered. He's fallen in love with you! So please don't struggle. He intends to make you his bride. You can live down here with him! He won't destroy the kingdom now that they have so generously provided him with a lover. Besides, why would he bring harm to the body that will bear his clutch? :)

You may object now, but he knows you'll come around eventually. Now that you're soft and round with his young and he's been nothing but patient and kind, you'll reciprocate soon enough. Once that happens, the two of you can finally put aside your differences and live a happy life together! Just the both of you and the fry. He's the last of his kind, but now that you're here, his beloved, sweetest mate, that can change. <3

[ruins-of-babylon]

Legacy

Mattheo Riddle x reader angst & smut

♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♥︎

𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎：after your traitorous brother runs away, abandoning his carefully placed destiny, you are forced to take his place, abandoning any and all plans you had for your future.

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈：blood, main character gets cut, kinda psychopath main character at the end, fem pronouns, some smut, arranged marriage, kinda mean!mattheo, mentions of drugs and alcohol, mentions of self harm, you have a brother, let me know if I missed anything!

𝒩ℴ𝓉ℯ：how I felt writing, “it hung over your head like a halo, but it was nowhere close to holy.” : 😈

⚠︎︎⚠︎︎this fic is pretty dark. MDNI❗️⚠︎︎⚠︎︎

Your fate had been decided when you were 5 years old. It hung over your head like a halo, but it was nowhere close to holy. It was placed by your father, who was among the many servants of Voldemort, which made your role very important. You were not here for yourself, you were brought into this world for one purpose only. When he sat you down and told you this, it was hard to comprehend, your 5 year old brain not quite wrapping around the concept, but it became more and more real as you grew older. It went as followed: You would grow up, and at 20 years old you would marry the dark lord’s son, Mattheo Riddle. It would add power and influence to your family name. Your older brother, Alexander, would carry the family business along with the new generation, that ‘business’ would be working as the right hand man to the dark lord, his own private assassin. It was all set in stone, an unwavering commitment.

————

The first time you met your future husband was on the first day of your first year. He was gentler then, a mischievous but likable boy, before he turned bitter. He recognized you, having also being told his decided fate since day one, and came up to you. While you expected a handshake, maybe a hug, he instead pushed you to the hard ground before running away. The concrete dug into your soft skin, tearing your skin mercilessly. Your knees, palms, and elbows took the most damage, but his apparent dislike of you almost hurt more. You avoided him as much as possible, knowing you and him had an inevitable lifetime to spend with each other when you graduated. That, however, was hard, since you were both in the same house and had many classes together.

As the time passed, your disdain for him only grew. As he got older, his physical bullying turned to mental and emotional, plus he had earned himself the reputation as a manwhore, his ego growing too large for your liking. He was cocky, arrogant, irrational, and just a fucking dick. His attractiveness only made everything worse. You were conflicted; he clearly wasn’t attracted to you, from what you could tell, and you realized he would be a terrible husband. But god, was he handsome.

One night, you were hanging out with your friend group, which just so happened to contain Mattheo, at this moment. No one could tell where he was or would be at any given time. You all had gathered in a circle, playing truth or dare. Theodore Nott, being the annoying prick he was, picked Mattheo. He chose truth.

Theo’s exact words, “Are you happy to marry (Y/n)?” You all held your breath, his question echoed around the room as all the side conversations went silent. Everyone wondered the same question, but no one was brave enough to ask. Anticipation hung in the air, and you had a bad feeling he was going to say no.

“Not at all. I’d rather be with anyone else, but I have to be stuck with her, of all fucking people.” He said, looking at Theo as he spoke your worst fear. He made eye contact with you before continuing, “You’re the reason I’m miserable, you’ve ruined my life.” You held eye contact with him, an evil smile on his face, trying to maintain a stoic expression on your own. Your heart tensed, feeling heavy in your chest. You broke eye contact with him and stood up, waking away as calmly as you could. No one tried to stop you, or call out your name to come back. They all watched you as your feet carried you back to your room faithfully. Your vision swirled as tears brimmed in your eyes, but you wouldn’t let them fall until you were out of sight. A shaky breath of relief exited your lungs as you shut the door behind you, locking it and holding yourself as you let your body slide down to the floor against the door. The tears finally fell, a seemingly endless stream of them flowing down your cheeks, past your chin, settling on your lips. After what felt like hours, you stood up and walked towards your desk. You opened the top drawer and sorted around the various distractions you kept for moments just like these. To stay numb, you kept a small selection of drugs, small blades, a lighter and pack of cigarettes, and a few small bottles of various alcohol. You decided on a bag of fine white powder and a cigarette.

Later that night there was a knock at your door, as there usually was. You didn’t feel like opening it, satisfied to stay sitting on the windowsill blowing smoke into the night sky. But, unfortunately for you, you forgot to lock the door. As the door swung open, you didn’t even turn to look at him, already knowing who he was.

You blew out the smoke from your lungs. “What do you want?” You could hear his footsteps getting closer to you, but you still couldn’t find the energy to turn your head and look at him. His cold hand gently placed itself on your shoulder, turning you around to face him. You stared into his eyes, which looked like deep pools of honey if the sun shines just right. Now, in the darkness, they almost looked black, a probable reflection of his soul.

He held your gaze, an almost sorry look in his eyes. “You know what I say isn’t true, right?” He asks in a whisper. You nod, taking another drag of the cigarette between your fingers, looking back outside the window. His sighed, not content with your response. He took the cigarette from your hand and put it out on the ashtray next to you on the window. “Let me make it up to you.” He proposed, waiting for you to say yes.

A small smile graced your lips, “You better.” He laughed softly before picking you up and walking you towards your bed. He gently laid you down, your back on the soft mattress, taking off your clothes and throwing them down on the floor. His kisses started on your neck, your soft whines fueling his desire to please you. He moved down your body inch by inch, slowly placing his lips over your body, your collarbones, chest, breasts, torso, hips, and thighs receiving equal attention from him. He laid between your legs, slowly dragging a finger through your folds.

“My pretty girl, so wet for me.” He said, gathering some of your wetness on his fingertip before bringing it to your clit, keeping it still. Your body jolted at the stimulation, moaning for him to just move, do something. He quietly laughed at your desperation, finally moving his finger in small circles around your little bundle of nerves. “I love this perfect pussy so much.” You jumped at his actions, a whiny groan slipping past your lips. Taking his finger away from your clit, he brought it down to your entrance, slowly pushing it in as your inner walls gladly sucked him in. You grumbled at the loss of attention on your puffy clit before he replaced his finger with his mouth. He started with soft licks with the tip of his tongue, letting you relax into him, before he harshly sucked on your pearl, wrapping his lips around it. You nearly screamed from how good it felt, your legs moving around, switching between squeezing his head and opening wider, the stimulation almost too much. He laughed against you, sending delicious vibrations to your core before taking his finger out of you and pushing your legs apart. You moaned his name along with curses over and over again, almost sounding like you were worshipping him. How could you not when he made you feel so good? He switched between harsh sucks, gentle licks, and grazing his teeth against your sensitive clit, every now and then teasing your hole by pushing his tongue into it. It took almost no time before you were cumming against his mouth, breathing heavily as he drank up every last drop of your release. As you came down from your high, he pulled his body up until he was hovering right above you. His lips met yours with so much passion, so much love, you could almost believe he felt even a fraction of what you felt for him. After a moment, he pulled away.

“You’re so fucking good at that.” You told him breathlessly, savoring his chuckle. Oh how you wished he would love you. A silence settled between you, whether it was comfortable to awkward, you couldn’t tell. You just stared at each other, and you would have given anything to know what he was thinking about.

That was 2 weeks before your life would change, for better or for worse, you would find out. It was also the last time you would let him hurt you with his words. This change would start with an unexpected letter from your father:

（𝒴／𝓃）， ℐ𝓃 𝒶𝓃 𝓊𝓃ℯ𝓍𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒾𝓃𝒶𝒷𝓁ℯ 𝓉𝓊𝓇𝓃 ℴ𝒻 ℯ𝓋ℯ𝓃𝓉𝓈，𝓎ℴ𝓊𝓇 ℴ𝓁𝒹ℯ𝓇 𝒷𝓇ℴ𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓇，𝒜𝓁ℯ𝓍𝒶𝓃𝒹ℯ𝓇，𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝓇𝒶𝓃 𝒶𝓌𝒶𝓎．ℐ 𝓈𝓊𝓁𝓁ℴ𝓈ℯ𝒹 𝒽ℯ 𝓌𝒶𝓈𝓃’𝓉 𝓇ℯ𝒶𝒹𝓎 𝓉ℴ 𝓈ℯ𝓇𝓋ℯ ℴ𝓊𝓇 ℒℴ𝓇𝒹，𝒶𝓈 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓈ℯ𝓇𝓋𝒿𝒸ℯ 𝓌ℴ𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒽𝒶𝓋ℯ 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓉ℯ𝒹 𝒶𝓁𝓂ℴ𝓈𝓉 ℯ𝓍𝒶𝒸𝓉𝓁𝓎 𝒶 𝓎ℯ𝒶𝓇 𝒻𝓇ℴ𝓂 𝓃ℴ𝓌．ℋℯ 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓈𝓊𝒻𝒻ℯ𝓇 𝒶 𝓂𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝓌ℴ𝓇𝓈ℯ 𝒻𝒶𝓉ℯ，ℐ 𝒻ℯ𝒶𝓇．ℱℴ𝓇𝓉𝓊𝓃𝒶𝓉ℯ𝓁𝓎 𝒻ℴ𝓇 𝓎ℴ𝓊，𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝑔ℯ𝓉 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓋𝓁ℯ𝒹𝑔ℯ ℴ𝒻 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸ℯ．𝒜𝓈 𝓈ℴℴ𝓃 𝒶𝓈 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝒹𝓊𝒶𝓉ℯ 𝓁𝒶𝓉ℯ𝓇 𝓉𝒷𝒿𝓈 𝓎ℯ𝒶𝓇，𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝑔ℴ 𝓉𝒽𝓇ℴ𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒾𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 ℴ𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝓂ℯ𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝒻ℴ𝓇 𝓎ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝒷𝓇ℴ𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓇，𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓇ℯ𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸ℯ 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝒶𝓈 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓅ℯ𝓇𝓈ℴ𝓃𝒶𝓁 𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓃 𝒻ℴ𝓇 ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝒢ℴℴ𝒹 ℒℴ𝓇𝒹．𝒫𝓇ℯ𝓅𝒶𝓇ℯ．

－ℱ𝒶𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓇

At first, it didn’t feel real. This had to have been some kind of joke, right? Alexander was so excited to take on his role, or so it seemed. As reality settled in, you started to distance yourself from everyone. You blew off your friends, preferring to stay in your dorm and wallow in self pity. It wasn’t fair. Your brother had his fate, you had yours. It was set in stone. You had almost looked forward to it at times. But not anymore. You had to suppress your emotions, adapt to this new world. You would train to become an assassin for the Dark Lord, you would destroy what you loved, everything you touched would break. For this, you had to sacrifice your feelings, tears, and longing for a life you could no longer have. You counted down the days until graduation, the time in between was hell. You left all your friends, replacing them with drugs. The time seemed to tick by slower and slower, like staring at a clock’s hands tick tick tick as they seemed to hesitate to go where you wanted.

A soft knock sounded from you door, and you had a sneaking suspicion of who it was. You didn’t know why he even bothered knocking. You never opened the door for him, nor anyone as of late. As the door slowly opened and his frame emerged from it, looking around for you. His eyes landed on your desk, slowly walking towards you to investigate. You slowly blinked at him as he watched you, clearly intoxicated. The evidence sat right behind you, the little white pills contrasting with the dark wood of your desk.

“Oh, angel,” he whispered, placing his hand on the back of your head and stroking your hair as you stared up at him. “Why?”

He was surprised when you laughed. It was mocking, cold. You didn’t feel anything for him anymore. You couldn’t. “Why are you here?” You asked him, clumsily pulling his hand from your head. Everything felt fuzzy, and you couldn’t stop chasing the feeling.

“Just wanted to check on you. You haven’t been coming to meals and your friends said you dropped them.” He answered, a seemingly genuine look of concern in his eyes.

“Haven’t you heard?” You asked him, referring to your cancelled marriage and your new role to fill.

“Heard what?” He was confused, his brows furrowed together as he anticipated your answer. You laughed again, thinking he must be joking.

“Your daddy didn’t tell you? My brother ran away so I have to take his place. And our arranged marriage is cancelled.” You state. You laugh again, everything seems so funny. Now he looks even more confused. Shock, horror, and despair run through his features as he takes it all in. Then he laughs, a nervous-sounding forced laugh.

“You finally get what you want. Lucky you.” You add, bitterly. Now, he’s silent. As you stare at his face, a sudden rage floods your veins. You stand up, facing him, and push him, your hands pressing against his muscular chest. Again, again, and again, you push him until he’s standing before your door, letting you move him. As you move to push him one final time out of your dorm, he stops moving at your will.

“Wait,” he starts. “I-.”

You interrupt him. “GET OUT!” You scream at him, balling your hands into fists and beating his chest as hard as you can, but he doesn’t seem to feel it. A cold bucket of water seems to fall on your head, everything you’ve bottled for the past weeks suddenly bursting from its cage. Tears flow freely down your face, you finally stop hitting and screaming at him, placing your palms flat on his chest and resting your head between your hands, crying into him. He gently strokes your back, holding you against him. He rests his cheek on the top of your head, comforting you.

“I’m sorry, my love,” he says. “Let it all out.” He’s so gentle, holding you, speaking comforting words, trying to make you feel better. This might be the only time you’ve ever felt truly safe and loved, and that scares you. Just as you feel the warmth in your chest, you push him away one final time, so the cold can settle in again. You slam the door and lock it, sliding down it onto the floor as he bangs against it a few times.

”Please, baby, let me in.” He says, you can tell he’s right outside. You’re tempted to open it, let him in, let him hold you and make you feel loved for the last time. But as your hand hesitantly reaches up, you stop it. It will hurt more if you let him again. The tears still fall, an added weight on your shoulders. You slowly crawl from the door to your bed, exhaustedly tucking yourself in, curling into a ball as he continues to try to convince you to open the door from the outside.

❀❀❀❀

How did I get here? You wonder as you stood before the dark lord himself, his son standing a little farther behind him. Your father’s instructions had been rather clear: tell him what he wants to hear, don’t talk back, be respectful. You fidget with your fingers behind your back, subtly wiping your sweaty palms against your pants. Your heart was beating fast inside your chest, your head pounding.

“It was such a shame that your brother ran away. Now you must take his place, revise any plans you thought you had for a life you never imagined.” He said, walking in tight circles around you. You stared at the floor in front of you.

“He made his decision, however selfish it was. The show must go on.” You curtly replied, a tone in your voice that you didn’t intend. You brought your hands back to your sides, pressing your palms to the sides of your thighs, brushing the fabric of your pants. You could feel his presence behind you, radiating a cold sort of energy that contrasted with the hot room.

“Yes, you are correct. I must inform you that your first assignment will be to hunt him down and kill him. Will that be a problem?” He asked, now standing a foot away from you to your left. You had suspected something like this.

“Not at all. My duty will always come before emotion.” You answered, hoping that would satisfy him. You still looked down, following a crack on the concrete floor with your eyes. You could feel your palms sweating again.

“Good answer, my dear.” He said, now standing directly in front of you. You brought your eyes up to meet his. “There’s one last thing I will do, then you’re official.” He finished. Mattheo stayed completely still, not a single word from him as he stood watching you. So much hung between you, there were so many emotions, words, and tension you wanted to share, say, and break.

“Anything.” You calmly replied, ready to face whatever he had for you. From his robes he pulled a dagger with a jagged blade, spurring your curiosity. As he reached for your right hand, he pulled it towards himself, facing your palm upwards. He inspected the dark mark inked on your wrist before bringing his attention back to whatever he was doing. You held your breath, waiting for him to place the knife in your hand. Several seconds passed as the both of you just stood there, his cold hand grasping your wrist as you nearly shook from anticipation. He briskly pulled his hand up, and as you stared at your reflection, you felt a wave of some emotion you couldn’t name flood your bones. As you began to prepare to be pierced by his blade, he instead rested it in your hand. Just as you breathe your sigh of relief, he rotates the blade slightly and slices right through your palm, a deep and forceful cut. The blade must have been very sharp; It seemed to glide through your skin with little effort. The pain hits you all at once, a stinging sensation emitted from the wound. You gasp, sucking in a sharp breath, and bite your lip hard enough to pierce the delicate skin, now bleeding.

Blood poured from the wound like a fountain as you took it all in. All the pain, all the feeling, all the blood, flowing down your wrist and soaking the ground below you. You couldn’t close your eyes. That was the moment you knew this would suit you. The sight of your blood flowing from you satisfied an itch deep inside. You craved it, again and again, ready to devote your life to the craft assigned to you by cruel karma, god, the universe, or whatever you want to call it. Although, it was right. This is what you were born for. This is what you will die for. In fate’s eyes, you watch yourself. ‘This is me.’ Is all your reflection seems to say.

This is me.

𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷

Hello lovelies! I hope you enjoyed. I’m thinking of doing a part two about Mattheo’s POV, so let me know if you’d like that! <3

[rotten-dogs]

Hii can I also req a bully bada smut??😫 🙏 I love ur works!!

From Time

cw: general bullying, characters in the grey area, dubious consent wise (power difference) girl cock, umm squirting

an: sure thx 4 the rq this is short and sweet hopefully

The loud sound of lockers slamming pressed mind numbingly against your ears. The chatter from other students became muddled against every other noise in the vicinity. The sound of someone’s shoes squeaking, a backpack unzipping, a teacher yelling to tell off a student running down the hall.

Everything combined made an already hostile day ten times worse. You could feel your brain slowly draining itself of personality, of you. Water dripped from your hair and stained the sleeves of your clothes but nobody noticed. Nobody ever had. The skin around your wrists was inflamed and the length of your skirt covered the mass-ly blue bruises that seemed to be permanently etched into your skin. Everything was blurry, and only one thing remained on your mind in a constant.

Bada Lee.

Ever since grade school she had made it her personal mission to plaster her personal vendetta against you across her whole being. It started out petty, a few sarcastic comments that only the petulant mind of an eight year old could come up with. Stealing your things, holding them above your head.

By middle school it had shifted, but only slightly. A few shoulder checks in the hallway, a little academic intimidation, rumors. Oh the rumors.

By high school it had gotten more physical. It seemed her hate for you only grew, shoving you into lockers, punching your stomach until you were gasping for air behind the school and like today—holding you down while she poured water over your face on a constant. You didn’t know why she did it, you steered clear of her and yet it’s like that wasn’t enough. Like you had burrowed a section out in her brain and now she blames you specifically for that. It’s your fault that she can’t stop thinking about hurting you.

The reality is she made your life a living hell and sometimes you wondered if that’s all it would be. You’d never even been friends with the girl and yet she destroyed your concept of friendships. Anyone you’d gotten close to she easily consumed from you as well. It was easy for her, she was charming and stunning to everyone else. A guiding light. A campus crush that you touch yourself after hours to. Not that you would.

You pull your arms around yourself, attempting to fall inside yourself and avoid the curious eyes drifting your way as you make your way to class. It hardly works, it’s all you can think about as you push your way through what feels like an endless sea of people.

So suddenly you feel a hand wrap around your wrist. That hand tugs, hard on your arm and suddenly you’re being pulled through the stuffy hall; your guiding light expertly weaving through the bustle of your peers.

You don’t have to look up, you know that grip. Felt it many times. Your heart dies a little in your chest at the thought. Just this morning, Bada had grabbed you by the back of your head and told you to sit; wait.

You did, obediently, shaking in fearful anticipation as she came up behind you. You could feel her presence—looming over you before an intense feeling of cold and wet washed over you. You could’ve sworn you felt your body go into shock.

The sound of Bada laughing cruelly behind you filled your ears and you slipped trying to stand up, your body suddenly shaking violently as the cold morning air hit your wet frame. All Bada offered you was, “You looked hot.” Before she turned on her heel and walked the other way.

You thought that would’ve been the end of it today and you were clearly a fool. She tugged you to the far end of the school, the crowd having dissipated into a few stragglers until there was no one around at all.

“Bada.”

You tried, wincing as the grip only tightened on your arm. She pulled you into an empty classroom, slamming the door behind her. The action made her grip on your wrist loosen and you pulled it away into your own chest, rubbing the skin there with your other hand.

“Bada..” You’re searching for words but nothing seems to stick and she’s looking at you with nothing short of hatred in her eyes. It makes you feel small. She takes a step forward, and you take a step back.

“Did you think I was done?” She raises her eyebrow, expectant of an answer and you turn your head, finding the floor beside you to be all the more interesting. A mistake. Her hand finds itself under your chin easily, pushing it up to look at her. “You know it’s disrespectful to turn away from someone.” Her eyes trail away and the quiet anger is written all over her face. You’ve been here before. You know everything about Bada, and she knows everything about you.

“Sit on that desk.” She juts her chin towards it, letting go of yours and you start to shake your head. “Not h-“ the loud sound of a slap reverberates off the walls and you blink in registry. Red is creeping onto your face from where the sting of her slap imprinted itself on you. You lack shock at her doing it, but rather at how quickly it had happened. “I’m not asking again.” And damn, if that isn’t a threat.

You nod, more to yourself than to her and make your way towards the desk she had pointed out to you, letting your thighs touch the base of it before lifting yourself to sit atop it, feet dangling.

She smiles, a rare occurrence, as she walks towards you. “See? Was that so hard, hm?” She pushes your hair back from your shoulders and slides her hand down suggestively from your neck down to the first button on your blouse. Her fingers are tender, such a contrast to her personality as she unbuttons your top, pulls it down your shoulders. Her grin is toothy, big lips pulled open predatorily as she leans in, leaves a kiss against your shoulder once, before bringing a trail up your neck and to the base of your ear.

You inhale deeply at her actions, eyes closing as you feel a familiar throb make itself known between your legs. Legs that she seems to take an interest in suddenly. Her hands rub over your thighs, rubbing her thumbs into your taut skin there which garners a groan from you. She seems to like that, chuckling breathily to herself before spreading your legs further apart. Embarrassment seeps in and you glance at the door. Locked or not, anyone could walk by.

You feel her breath fan against your neck before she puts her lips to your ear, “You gonna just take it today?” She bites her lip, a hand snaking down your front and ghosting over your core. “Or have I not stretched you enough these days?” And despite the inaccuracy she’s suggesting about the female anatomy; you meet her eyes, they’re gleaming with something only she understands. A look only she knows, something glassy and wide eyed. Beggar.

“Oh…” She smiles, biting back a laugh as she takes it in, “Filthy.” Is what she offers as you two come to some sort of silent understanding.

Then she’s pulling your skirt up, looping her fingers down your panties and pulling them down; but not all the way. No, she wouldn’t bother with that. It all happens so quickly, barely any time passes before she’s pulling herself out of her trousers, precum dripping from her tip.

Her teeth bite at the inside of her cheek as she lines herself up. If she were decent she might ask if you were ready, give you some kind of warning. But she isn’t, so she doesn’t. Just pushes the tip inside, her eyes locking with yours as she does. She watches as your mouth falls open, holding the eye contact as your face quivers with the pain.

She keeps pushing in, forcing her way inside your walls as they try to keep up, relaxing despite the pain. It feels like you’re being torn open, her size massive to the unprepared state you’re in. She’s still holding your gaze as your eyes tear up, a broken moan slipping from your lips. “Bada.” You whine and she smiles, “Shhh.” Is what she offers.

Your arms fly up to wrap around her shoulders as she bottoms out, your eyes forcing themselves closed and a shudder wracking through your body while you try to adjust. She’s no help though, wasting no time before she pulls out to the hilt and slams herself inside again. Which in turn, causes you to scream out, legs flailing on either side of her with the force of it. You bite around her shoulder, trying to quiet yourself as your field of vision becomes slick with tears.

Bada sets out on a pace, finding it quickly. And it’s not kind, her hips fucking against you at a dangerous pace. You stretch around her with each thrust, your body bouncing against the table while you try to hold onto her shoulders for dear life. “Look at you taking it. Speechless?” She mocks, her words breathy as you clench around her and whine in response.

“Can always count on you. My little slut.” Her hands slide down to hold your waist and you cry out, a tear sliding down your face as she pushes you away from her shoulders, sends you back to lay against the desk.

She lifts your hips off the desk, angling her hips upwards before fucking inside of you with a new fervor, fucking into you like you’re a fleshlight. “My little toy. Look at you. Can barely handle it yet you’re moaning for more.” And she’s right, your hands are clenched into fists while your mouth hangs agape, moaning loudly, any thoughts of anyone walking having become uncared for by you. Bada’s name falls from your lips endlessly and your body goes stiff.

“Please.” Is what you offer, “Please please please.” Your back arches even further off the desk and she pulls you further onto her, the sound of your skin against each other filling the space. You can’t help but groan, tears sliding down your face as she speeds up. “There you go baby, that’s it.”

“Taking it so well I knew you could.”

You whine at the praise and shake your head, “I can’t…I can’t..” you can barely think, your hand coming up to try and push Bada’s hands off your hips and that well, she doesn’t like that at all.

Suddenly, her hand is around your throat and her face comes back into your field of view as she fucks inside of you at a new pace. “You can.” She says and you shake your head again, sniffling in between your stolen moans, “You can.” She says again, her voice raspy and darker than it was moments before, her hips snapping up against you.

You can barely breathe, your hand coming up to hold where she has your neck in her grip, “Wait..” you whine out but she doesn’t, barely even slows down before you’re coming all over her cock, a scream falling from your lips. Your hips shake and splutter around her and your head falls back as far as it can, your whole vision goes dark for a moment and you register her letting you go when your back hits the desk again.

It’s quiet, and you can feel her shallowly fucking inside you still, her eyes staring directly down at where you’re swallowing her up. You’re dazed, and a little confused as you try to blink up at her. Your tongue feels like lead in your mouth and you’re unable to speak so she does it for you. That grin still plays on her lips when she meets your gaze again,

“You fucking squirted.”

[kobb4ni2]

Oh here's another sea serpent brain rotation since I'm so obsessed with the concept!

You know that episode where that ugly Celestial Dragon tried to take Shirahoshi? Imagine that same one trying to kidnapped reader but failed miserable due to her powers and when CP0 is tasked to take her out they take one glance at her at is like "nah you deserve it!" Or "I'm sorry what she did? I did let see anything"

WASSUP SORRY IF I WASNT ACTIVE FOR A WEEK, I’ve been so burnt out tbh😪😪 BUT ENOUGH OF THAT!!

I’ve talked that the least place Sea Serpent! Reader visits would be Mariejois I mean it’s not even a visit it’s a DUTY to go there for Sea Serpent! Reader.

But I can see Sea Serpent! Reader will only go to Mariejois with the Mermaid Royal Family, she would be protecting while also catching up with the royal family, especially Shirahoshi. When you slither or walk out of the capsule (ya know the one that raised them up to the Red Line) Sea Serpent! Reader immediately got a lot of attention, many spoiled royal families wanting your hand in marriage maybe they were infatuated with your beauty or they just want you to marry their heir so they can have some political hand on the government.

Sea Serpent! Reader knows that CP0 will be there and Sea Serpent! Reader tries their best to not make a ruckus so they won’t show up, but all changed when the Celestial Dragon showed up.

Sea Serpent! Reader was just talking to the princess that Luffy saved until Sea Serpent! Reader got tugged on their tail and then that when they saw the Celestial Dragon. Sea Serpent! Reader went to their human form to hear what they were saying but after they just transformed, Sea Serpent! Reader was tackled down by one of the giant slaves that the Celestial Dragon was keeping, it was a struggle, royal family were just in awed and Shirahoshi was crying her out eyes while King Neptune felt absolute rage, I mean Sea Serpent! Reader is basically a deity to them so what the Celestial Dragon was doing was a symbol that no matter who powerful mermen are heck even goddess, they won’t respect them. He was ready to throw in a punch until Sea Serpent! Reader turned into her Serpent form and used her tail to swing both the giant slave and Celestial Dragon away.

And would you look at that CP0 just came into the scene and when ask about it to the higher up CP0 made excuses that they didn’t see a darn thing

[sserpente]

My little assassin

You share the bed with Gortash after you rejected Bhaal, and the Chosen of Bane makes the mistake of making it known to you that he is rather disappointed in your decision. Perhaps he needs to be reminded of his place...

A/N: I’ve done it. It’s too late now. Gortash wrapped me around his finger. Oh well. Enjoy this little piece. It’s literally based on a dream I had and when I woke up, I was like… 😲 I have to write this!

Words: 710 Warnings: implied smut, mentions of death, blood, murder, decapitation and necrophilia, evil Durge!Tav/Reader (duh)

It was strange, the concept of freedom. Considering all your sins, it was a feeling soaked in both relief and uncertainty to know that the next time your weapon struck, it would be because you willed it so—not because the God of Murder urged you to carry out his bloodthirsty message to the world. But for the first time in too long… you felt at peace, bathing in the silence this new-found freedom brought.

With an audible sigh, you stretched your naked body in the soft satin sheets. Dusk was near, you could see the last sunrays retreating and slowly drowning Gortash’s chambers in comfortable and soothing darkness.

For just a moment, everything felt right. Like you’d never been gone, never been backstabbed by Orin, never been abducted… never ended up with a damn tadpole in your head… never suffered from amnesia.

Your memories were taking their sweet time to come back to you still. But you were getting there. Bits and pieces, crumbs of information your own brain was withholding from you began to form a bigger picture.

If there was one puzzle piece, however, that had already fallen back in place, it was that Enver Gortash and you shared a history that went well beyond an amenable alliance. You were rather unfamiliar with the concept of love and so was he. What you had was a filthy connection made of lust, greed, and lechery. But you liked him—more than you wished to admit. There was no doubt you would viciously slaughter anyone who dared to touch him. Only one person was allowed to kill or fuck him—and that person was you.

“Tell me, what are you thinking about, my little assassin?” His raspy voice was accompanied by the faint rustling of the bed sheets as he turned to face you.

“You. Me. My past. The life that lies ahead of me now that I’m free to do what I wish.”

“Is that so…” he responded with slight dismay, “In all honesty, my dear, it’s a shame you rejected the God of Murder. To be Bhaal’s Chosen… an honour and a responsibility that would have kept you invincible… and more powerful than ever, fit to rule by my side.”

The sudden anger surging within you felt like daggers made of ice boring into your chest. Enver was many things but he was no fighter. He was a cunning politician with a hand for charming people into what he wanted. Before he even had a chance to react, you had already pinned him down on the mattress, straddling him. Your hand closed around his throat, squeezing just hard enough to cut off his air supply but not hard enough to keep him from speaking.

“Do you think I turned good? That I want to become a hero now? That I rejected Bhaal because I could no longer bear the thought of my sins? Oh no,” you spat, “From now on forth, my sins are my own, not Bhaal’s. You’d do well to remember that and respect my decision, Chosen of Bane because as much as I enjoy the idea of your warm corpse drenching the sheets in blood, I’m not much for necrophilia.”

Enver swallowed, and you could feel his Adam’s apple dance beneath your palm. There was a sliver of panic in his dark eyes—it was one thing you liked about him. He’d never underestimate you or what you were capable of. “Of course. You can… let go now, my little assassin.”

You obeyed—for it would indeed be a pity if your renewed companion withered away so quickly. You had no intention whatsoever to kill him just yet, if ever. Still, when you voiced your threat to give your hazardous anger a vent, you knew deep down that you were not lying. “Do not question me again or I will start questioning whether your head should remain attached to your body.”

Gortash laughed, a sound you enjoyed for it usually expressed his admiration for your ruthlessness; and just like that, another snippet of information dripped into your mind. You remembered. You used to enjoy him praising your cruel savagery. You made a good team, you and him. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

[toomanyideasandfandoms]

Hello!

I bring brain rot to you once more! Imagine Clorinde being the one to find the notebook from the death seeking creator and just how many of them are her name.

Being the "vanguard" of Fontaine's military of sorts, it's her primary duty to deal with stuff like executions and stuff, so she tends to be the one sent out whenever there is Impostor sightings!

Also, imagine she was also the creator's favorite (she is mine for sureeee... aside from the buttons doing Celestia's work, ofc-), so maybe she finds that in the notes at first! Here is a little concept of what it could look like.

"I met Clorinde today. She was prettier than she looks in game! The graphics didn't do her enough justice at all... but she killed me, too. She did it without hesitation, and I... I thought she would trust me. I put hours into her build and player her for days, I spent thousands just to make sure she was perfect... and she hates me. Just like everyone else

Maybe there is something wrong with me..."

And finally, imagine that the creator didn't know of the whole Impostor deal until a couple hundred deaths later, so they thought there was something actually wrong with them instead of the whole impostor au stuff.

For some fluff, maybe she tries to be the one to bring food and like comfort towards the creator as they heal, and try to build the trust they had on her, and like she's wholesome about taking care of her and like she slowly falls in love with them as time goes on and stuff :3 (maybe becomes yandere too, you never know~)

Anyways that's it for me for now! Have a good day, fwen!

🍌anon

Ohhhh that is GOOD!!!!

So for the Cloride stuff I don't got much too add, I genuinely love it! I'm not too familiar with her character (I know them better once they become playable) but I can see this happening 100%! And honestly she probably would be asked to be the creator's bodyguard since she was/is Furina's.

Also yes yandere, Death Seeking au very much will always end in yandere even with the wholesome mental healing because the fact that these guys would be obsessed to the point of killing those who looked like the creator (very much something I would see as something The Primordial One and Celestia put as a rule in order to make sure creator can't come back at full power) means they were never gonna be normal lovers.

But oh oh that bit about creator not knowing. You my friend brought up such a nice idea honestly. That would severally fuck up creator's mentally GOD. The confusion, the hurt, it would be so much more intense due to them having no clue as to why. They probably wouldn't be able to comprehend it at all once the truth got out and the characters tried to reason with them.

Like wdym you only were killing me to worship me?? Wdym there's a creator? Yeah that's the Primordial One. Hold up what are you stopping? No don't stop! It was getting fun! Don't take the only purpose I have away from me!

That is so deliciously fucked, full course meal of mental anguish and trauma.