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#I mean I knew it in the animal part of my soul
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Wearing only a shirt and no pants no underwear fucking rules who was gonna tell me this
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localcatmutt · 2 months
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OTHERHEARTED
What does it mean to be otherhearted?
Otherhearted is a term primarily used in the therian/otherkin community that means “to identify WITH a non-human animal/creature/being.” You may have a deeply rooted connection/relation to it, and experience shifts or traits similar to the species, BUT not identify AS it. For example, I experience many bear traits and shifts, I feel a deep connection to these animals and identify WITH them, rather than identifying AS them. The “as” or “with” are very important to distinguish a theriotype/kintype from an otherhearted “identity”.
Another common term that holds the same meaning is kithtype. The etymology of the word “kith” originally means familiarity (not family), or something/someone you are connected/close to. Then the word “type” refers to what kind of identity it is (which is kith in this case). 
To simplify the difference between kintypes and kithtypes; kin (to identify as/to be) and kith (to identify with/to be like).
Importance of Otherhearted
In the community people tend to showcase their theriotypes over kithtypes. They are held at a higher standard, and they are viewed as more important when it comes to our identity as a whole. But that couldn't be further from the truth. In fact, being a therian and being otherhearted can share most of the same experiences. You can indeed have shifts from kithtypes, mental and phantom. Being otherhearted can impact your life just as much, and you can wear all the same gear as a therian. Both are a part of your identity. Kithtypes can be just as prominent as kintypes.
The questioning process can be all the same as well. 
Belonging in the Community
People who are otherhearted are just as valid as therians, and belong in our community all the same. We all identify as, with or simply connect to animals in different ways than people who aren't in our community. Our animal hearts, minds and souls are what connects us. Not the labels. Therians, otherkin, otherhearted, coping identities/coping links… they all belong.
As I have said before, these all share similar or same experiences. Any of us can wear gear, do quads, make posts, educate or share our identities. The sole differences are the origin of these identities, and whether you identify as or with the animal/creature/being (or if it's a voluntary identity like in the case of coping links, which I will eventually address in a separate post). 
Confusing the two
It’s easy to feel lost when we’re trying to figure out what we are, and where an identity stands. Is it a theriotype? Is it a kithtype? Is it a cameo? It can be quite the confusing process. Although I think that if people knew how important being otherhearted is, they might find it easier to understand if they're kith or kin. I mean, in the end the major difference is just… are you LIKE the animal? Or ARE you the animal? Shifts don't immediately mean theriotype, so I think that's where most of the confusion lies.
Quick definition of cameo for those who don’t know of them : Cameos are simply shifts that can suddenly come and go, that arent from a known kintype. They may make a brief appearance in your life. Think of the actual word “cameo” that is used for actors who make sudden appearances in movies, and may bring an element of surprise to viewers. 
I am otherhearted
I have six primary kithtypes. Each has different levels of relevance/importance to me, but are still very important to who I am as a whole. These kithtypes are; Canines (coyotes and jackals especially), Kermode Bears/Black Bears, Ravens, Snakes, Giant River Otters and Arthropods as a whole. It's a lot, but over the years, deeply rooted connections to these animals have planted themselves into my identity. I have shifts, behaviours and traits just like them!
Sometimes I even feel confused because of how prominent they can become. 
Well, that’s all for now! I thought it would be important to talk about otherhearted identities for a change. Its not shared enough and I think that spreading more information could help people figure out experiences more easily.
Hope you enjoyed!
Last note - If I made spelling errors or definition errors let me know. Everything is based on research, and what I've been learning throughout the years I've been in the community. I have been active here for more than 7 years, and have been on many different platforms including Instagram, Amino, Tumblr, Discord groups and a few Forums. So I don't only explore newer information, but also older ones. 
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yan-lorkai · 7 months
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Hello~ Could I request a Sebastian x reader where his darling gets confused when kidnapped cuz his darling has low self-esteem and zero experience with love and becomes shy? (Implying that nobody's confessed to reader before)
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.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ This was simply too much to take in such a short time, so much information, so much everything. The worst part was how Sebastian was looking at you, so serene as if he just didn't confessed to you. But... He was lying right? Maybe he would kill right here and right now, you were not sure why though as you aren't a danger for Ciel. You aren't powerful, didn't have any influential friends.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ "If you're going to kill me, you don't need to lie." You say because you know there's just no way he love you as he claim. There's nothing likeable in you, you're not inteligent enough, not as beautiful as other people, not as good. You were the worst of the worstest and nobody had ever confessed to you before. But Sebastian has the nerve to pretend that he is surprised by your response and you hate it. You hate how he blinks, how his mouth tremble, how he frowns.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ You look the other way, admiring the bed that seems so comfy and cozy, and only a few steps from distance. For a kidnapper, Sebastian through a lot about your comfort, all your things are on the shelves, organized as you prefer. Your shake your hands, testing the handcuffs. Hesitantly you look at him.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ "I beg your pardon?" His head is tilted, confused by your behavior. Truly he expected to see you screaming and struggling against your restraints, calling for help, anything. But you aren't, in fact he isn't sure what's going through your head. But for you, he seems to be mocking you. What else would he do? Kiss you? Hold you? A blink of your eyes and you knew he's going to stab you at any second now. "What gives you the impression I'm lying, my soul?"
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ He is so cruel. But you suppose you can entertain him a little and gestures to yourself. "Look at me, who could love me? I'm not really cool or interesting, I'm not even beautiful. And now you are here telling that you love me? As if, nobody could love me!"
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ You feel silly telling him all that but looking around, there's not much you can do but try to appeal to whatever compassion he has. Maybe if you look pathetic enough he'll release you. Sebastian though seems to be processing everything, he was expecting fear, tears, he practiced mentally how he would soothe you. He wanted everything to be perfect. But this was something unexpected that he didn't predicted, lucky him, he knew how to navigate around and twisted it to his advantage. Kneeling at your feet and holding your bound hand on his, offering you a small smile, a comforting, warm one.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ "I truly love you, darling." He kissed your hand. "I love your smile", another kiss, on your wrist, "I love your happy face," this time was a little higher and he was planning to go up till he was facing you. Your heart beating loudly. "I love your voice, your personality, your laugh, the way you dance when you think you're alone, the way you bite your lip when you're indecisive, how you play with animals, every single thing, I love it all."
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ So many soft, light kisses he was leaving by your arm, face already at your neck where he was appreciating your scent. The whole experience was so strange. Was he serious? Everything he said was true? Your whole face was burning in embarrassment while you thought. No, he wants serious, he could be. Or could he?
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ Sebastian let his head rest on your neck, looking at you with those beautiful ruby eyes. "Believe it or not, my darling, but I'm going to make you understand by any means necessary how much I feel for you."
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ Looking at you, defenseless, incredulous, he couldn't help but smile. It was so bad for you that he had fallen in love with you and now it was even badder as he would use your insecurity against you, subtly, creating a spider web that would tie you up without you noticing, all those plans and thoughts shining in his beautiful red eyes as he looked at you.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ He planted a last kiss on your lips, it was chaste and innocent even though it comes from a demon. "I love you."
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runariya · 7 days
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Prompt game:
🥰🤪👽
Alien Jungkook's tentacles try to get attention from the reader. But reader is mad and giving Jungkook the silent treatment. So tentacles decide to take it in their hands (?). I'm sorry my imagination is bad, but i trust yours ;)
a/n: I hope it's alright that I used this request as a Y(E)ARNED bonus...it just fits the couple so well
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To spend your days alongside Jungkook is nothing short of pure bliss, a kind of beauty that shows itself in moments both grand and unspoken. There is, indeed, a profound sweetness in being the object of his love, of his adoration, a warmth that seeps into every corner of your existence, making even the most ordinary hours shimmer with a peculiar magic. 
Yet, as with all such beautiful things, this love, though a balm for your soul, does not come without its moments of maddening frustration—little flashes of exasperation that threaten, every now and again, to undo all the softness with their dizzying intensity.
It is during these moments of quiet contentment, where you’ve developed a peculiar fondness for collecting miniature porcelain figurines of Earth’s animals—everything from delicate little ducks to turtles no bigger than a thumb, from bees captured mid-flight to cows rendered in the most absurd detail. 
You‘ve chosen each piece meticulously, though the greater part of the collection, truth be told, bears the mark of Jungkook’s love and generosity. There’s no species left unrepresented, no space on the shelf unfilled. But amidst them all, there is one that‘s your favourite, a tiny maneki-neko with a raised paw and a chubby little face, who commands the centre of the shelf of your now shared home. And of all the figurines, this one—Jackson, with his impossibly cute charm—holds a special place in your heart, the only figurine affectionately christened with a name, as if that alone elevates him from all the others. 
So when you hear the unmistakable, gut-wrenching sound of porcelain colliding with the hard floor while you’re busy tidying the kitchen, something inside you breaks too. 
You turn and see Jungkook standing by the shelf, frozen, his wide eyes filled with a kind of helpless guilt, his lips parting to release the softest, most regretful “oh-oh” that barely registers in the quiet room. Jackson, once proudly perched in his rightful place, is nowhere to be seen, and the realisation dawns on you as swiftly as the growing pit of frustration inside you.
“What did you do?” you ask, your voice tinged with horror as you throw unceremoniously the dish towel aside, running towards the shelf, your heart and mind already brace themselves for the worst.
Jungkook’s wide, panic-filled eyes lock onto yours, and as you glance down to to find poor Jackson, or rather what remains of him, shattered and scattered across the floor in a hundred tiny pieces before Jungkook’s feet, your heart shatters too, as though a part of it has been dashed against the cold floor with Jackson. 
“No…” you desperately whisper, the word as fragile as all your figurines, as you resist the overwhelming urge to drop to your knees  and gather the broken pieces, knowing full well that no amount of careful reconstruction will restore Jackson to his former state.
This isn’t the first time Jungkook, with all his towering presence and boundless energy, has accidentally decimated one of your precious figurines, his sheer physicality, though endearing at many other times, always at odds with the delicate world you curated and that is so easily fractured. But this time, it’s Jackson, and somehow that makes it worse.
“I—I didn’t mean to,” he stammers, his voice fumbling over itself as he scrambles for some sort of excuse, eyes darting as if searching for a way out of the mess he’s created.
“Oh, right,” you say, incredulous, “Jackson just leapt off the shelf, did he? Jungkook, you knew he was my favourite! How could you—how could you let this happen?”
“I swear, it wasn’t me… it… it was them!” he protests, pointing towards his remaining two and free tentacles that hover ominously behind him, as though they too have witnessed the grand disaster. The tentacles, however, seem none too pleased with his accusation; they rear up, jaws flexing as though insulted, ready to challenge his words, daring him to continue with the absurdity.
“You’re unbelievable,” you mutter, turning away, exasperation and resignation rolling off you in waves, the whole spectacle having become too much to bear, leaving the wreckage of both Jackson and your patience in your wake as you walk away, tired of this particular chaos.
"Princess, please, I’m sorry!" Jungkook follows you in a desperate attempt to soothe your anger, fully aware that he’s really messed up this time.
But you don’t answer. He’s destroyed your things more times than you can count—accidentally, yes, but still enough for you to give him the silent treatment before you say something you might regret. So when you enter your bedroom, lying down on your side and huffing with a blank stare, you refuse to acknowledge Jungkook, who’s now kneeling before you, clasping your tiny hands in his, puppy eyes in overdrive.
"I’m really sorry, Princess. Please forgive me, I’ll buy you another Jackson." Jungkook’s pleading eyes would usually make you give in, but this time he’s destroyed more than just a replaceable figurine. No, he murdered Jackson, your precious maneki-neko, taking your good fortune with him. So, no, you’re not giving in. You pull your hands away from his and huffily turn around to avoid his face.
Jungkook scrambles to his feet at that, running around the bed, stumbling over his own big feet, and jumping onto his side. "I mean it, I’ll buy you ten! A hundred! A million! Please, Princess, don’t be mad at me." But again, you just turn back around.
You hear Jungkook sigh in resignation as he plops down on his pillow, mumbling apology after apology that you’re not willing to acknowledge. It doesn’t take long before you feel one of his tentacles tentatively brush along your shoulder, but you shake it off, too fed up to accept any affection.
It tries again, but this time, you stop yourself from pushing it away, realising the tentacle—or rather, they—aren’t the ones at fault. A second tentacle soon joins, poking your side as if to tease you into letting go of your anger. But you still are, not at them, but at Jungkook. You start to pet them, though, and the simple action begins to soothe your frustration.
"Oh, so you’re giving them attention but not me?!" Jungkook whines.
"My precious babies," you coo lovingly, "got accused of doing something they didn’t."
"But they did! It’s all their fault!" He shouldn’t have said that, because his tentacles don’t see it like that though, and the next thing you hear is Jungkook yelping, "Ouch! Don’t attack me! Ouch! You’re supposed to protect me! Hey!"
You do your best to suppress the laugh bubbling up, knowing full well Jungkook deserves it for lying so boldly. When his tentacles slither back towards you, settling over and in front of you, you resume petting them, while Jungkook sulks silently behind you.
Your anger gradually fades, the soothing motions of Jungkook’s tentacles helping you calm down. "Do you know why Jackson was my favourote? He was the first figurine you ever gave me. On our 100th day anniversary." 
He remains silent, so you go on. "He wasn’t just a figurine. He was a symbol of our relationship and our good fortune."
"I’m sorry," Jungkook whispers, clearly sad now.
"You can’t replace him."
"I know."
"And you can’t make him whole again."
"I know." His voice is faint now, as if he truly understands just how deeply he’s messed up.
His tentacles begin to run along your arms, sensing your sadness too. You feel movement behind you, and as Jungkook’s breath fans across your neck and his big hand lightly strokes your arm alongside his tentacles, your resolve to stay mad a little longer disappears entirely. You turn around, facing his beautiful face and mesmerising eyes.
"I never understood why he was your favourite, but now I do. I’m really sorry, Princess."
"S’fine," you mumble, gently stroking his cheekbone.
"Do you want to know what my symbol of our relationship is?"
"Hm?"
Jungkook’s connected tentacles lift behind his back. "This. And this is something that’ll never break, no matter what."
Your eyes well up with tears because, frankly, he’s right. It shouldn’t be a fragile figurine that carries the very symbol of your love, but Jungkook himself. You regret ever giving Jackson that meaning, because there’s something so much stronger than porcelain—a living, conscious bond that shows just how meaningful and overwhelming your connection with Jungkook is.
"I’m sorry."
"You don’t have to be. Please don’t say that. I love you, Princess."
"I love you too, Jungkook."
And it's true, you’re the happiest woman in the world, now and always.
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kurokens · 3 months
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Everything I Love Will Make Me Cry | Satosugu
anime/manga: jujutsu kaisen
character: gojo satoru & geto suguru
words: 1.5k
pronouns: they/them
request: none
notes: part 3 of In The Middle, my first satosugu piece. trying stg new by including some texts in the middle but idk if i'm a fan, just didn't know how to convey it better than this way.. don't judge the quality of the text this is an app i used to use back in 2020 and i didn't want to try and find a new one. also thank u to 🪼 anon, ur message helped me get out of writer block, this one for u!!
not proof read
song rec: Everything I Love Will Make Me Cry - Movning
genre: hurt comfort, fluff, slowburn, a little bit angsty, poly?
warnings: satosugu are in a loving relationship, misunderstanding, pinning, a lot of pinning on satosugu's end, reader is so oblivious, insecure and self conscious reader
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Taking all of your clothes and getting out of the apartment was probably one of the hardest thing you ever had to do in your life. Especially what forced you to do it. But what else could you do? You no longer were welcomed there, and you knew it, the longer you stayed and the worse it would hurt. So you took advantage of both of your roomates being gone for the day to pack your essentials, write a note and get out of there. Not without your vision blurred by your tears. You didn't really plan your next moves but it felt like an evidence to just go and crash at Shoko's, such an evidence that you refused to do it. After all she was just as close with these two as you were, well, as you used to, so it would be quite an awkward position for her, and you refused to impose this on her. That's how you found yourself at the door of an old friend of yours, looking like a kicked puppy. "What are you doing looking like a sad little puppy?" Namami said after opening the door.
"Please don't, I already told you, and I don't want to cry any more than I've already did." You replied in a whine, to which he just gave a roll of his eyes, stepping aside to let you in.
"Haibara is in the kitchen, he is making some food for you. He thought you could use a warm meal right now." The blonde man told you, leading you towards the kitchen.
"M'not really hungry though..." You sighed, following him without another complaint.
"Ah! Don't say that, I've poured my soul into this meal. You better eat and appreciate it!!" Haibara exclaimed, popping his head through the door after hearing you two coming his way. "I made your favourite!"
"It smells wonderful Yū, I'll eat it, just for you. And enjoy it, that's for sure." You giggled, seeing his enthusiam and the effort he put into this, pulling the younger boy in your arms.
"You can stay here as long as you need. And I promise I won't say a word to Satoru and Suguru about your whereabouts." Nanami chimed in, a soft smile on his face at your interactions.
"Haha, you don't have to worry about that. They're probably not gonna look for me at all, on the contrary." You whispered the last part, tears starting to well up again.
"Just, don't rush yourself to find a new place okay? You're more than welcomed to stay there. And I'm sure all of this must be a big misunderstanding." He gently answered.
"Thank you so much. It means a lot, even though I do doubt your last words." Was all you could muster as an answer.
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To say the lovers were frantic was an understatement, they need to find you, they needed to tell you what they felt and how all of this was a misunderstanding. There was no way they were about to lose you over this, no not like this, not before you knew what you meant to them. It couldn't end with you thinking they hated you, lord, it was so far from the truth. They would never forgive themselves.
"Try calling them!!" Satoru shouted, pacing around your empty room.
"I already tried Toru, they're not answering, I go straight to voicemail." Suguru replied, his heart sinking at the potential meaning of his calls going straight to voicemail.
"No, no, no... You have to try again, please Sugu, try again!" The white-haired man begged, his voice breaking as the tears made their way up. "Sugu, this can't be it. Sugu we need to find them, this can't be it, please this can't be it."
All Suguru could do was take his lover into his arms, letting him break down and cry on his shoulders. Words stuck in his throat, as his own tears made their way down his cheeks. He never felt this helpless.
"Maybe..." He began slowly, "Maybe we should try and text them. So they can read it whenever they feel like it and not feel pressured to answer right away."
"Let's do that." Satoru grundgingly said, his pout never leaving his face.
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Both of them let out a breath seeing your answer, it wasn't really positive one but at least they weren't blocked, and right now it meant already a lot for them. They would give you all the time in the world you needed, they were ready to wait an eternity if it meant that you would come back to them in the end. Well, at least Suguru was ready for that, Satoru was a whole other story. "M'gonna die Sugu. M'gonna disappear from the face of the earth if I don't see them soon." The youngest whined, holding onto his lover for dear life. "Why don't we call Shoko? I'm sure they're with her. Even better, we could just go there and tell them how this is just a misunderstanding, and we can tell them how much we love them and how we want them in our space forever, and never out of it."
"Baby, we have to wait and you know it. We don't know what they heard, and why they're so hurt. It made them leave our place Toru, it's not something we can fix that easily. We probably lost their trust, and winning it back won't be an easy task. That's why we can't force this on them. We have to be patient, and wait for them to come to us, no matter how much it hurts." The dark-haired man explained, not fully convinced by his own words, but one of them had to be rational in order to mess this up further.
"I know you're right, but knowing we hurt them and that we can't make it better is so hard. I never wanted to hurt them in the slightest, and now we drove them away. At least, I'm glad I have you in all of this." Satoru confessed, hiding even further in the crook of his lover's neck, hoping this wouldn't last too long.
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You couldn't help the small smile that made its way on your face after reading your conversation, but it didn't stay for long. After all, you heard what you heard, and there was no way you could have gotten it wrong in any way, it was pretty clear who they were talking about, so this all misunderstanding thing seemed like a lie to you. But why would they lie about that? What was the point in hiding the truth now that you knew about it? Wouldn't it be easier for them now to get rid of you? Not having to go through the burden of telling you directly to leave and everything?
You were confused, a part of you wanted to believe they were telling the truth, that all of this was a misunderstanding, and your best friends didn't hate you. But at the same time, another part was scared because what if they really did hate you, and they were doing all this just to be able to humiliate you even further, and have the satisfaction to tell you in your face how much they wanted you out of their life. You were kind of used to be the odd one in friend groups, and ultimately being left out, so why would it be different this time?
"You realy should hear them out." A voice suddenly said, making you jump.
"Gosh Kento you scared me." You squeaked, hand on your chest in a futile try to appease your beating heart.
"I'm sorry, but really. I'm not the biggest fan of these two, and I think that's why you decided to come here, but I know they would never hurt you." Namami chuckled softly, sitting down next to you.
"Well, look at that, for once in your life you're wrong." You tearfully laughed.
"I've been wrong a lot of times in my life, but not on that. I promise you, they would never intentionally hurt you, especially not with their words." Your blonde-haired friend affirmed, and the look in his eyes told you there was no convincing him otherwise, almost as if he knew something you didn't.
"I don't know, I need time, I don't think I can face them yet." You explained, curling into a ball next to him.
"Take all the time you need." He simply replied, petting your hair as if to comfort the crying child you were. And for now it's all you needed, some time and a comforting friend, you would deal with all of this later, maybe.
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oki here it is!! sorry im not quite satisfied with this part, i wanted to make it longer and have them maybe meet to talk it out but i also didn't know if it was the mood of this part or not... also, yes, don't worry there will be a part 4! part 4 here!!
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readychilledwine · 5 months
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Bound by Fate pt 8
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Summary - When Kaylee Archeron meets Azriel, her world turns upside down. Between balancing her trauma, new powers, a mating bond, and war looming over her new home, Kaylee learns that everything is not as little as it once seemed.
Warnings - Violence, a tiny dragon, Elain being mean, sappy batboys trying to get their Kaylee home
A/n - Sheeeeees baaaaaack. I cut this into a part 8 and part 9 because I felt the ending was dramatic enough alone. Also, I am hoping I got all of you on the taglist, but please let me know if you want to be added or if I missed you. I am hitting my tag limit with this story, so I apologize for the reblog that's about to come.
Also, thank you @sarawritestories for cheering me on through my love hate relationship with this chapter
Series Masterlist ✨️ Azriel Masterlist ✨️ Master Masterlist
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Azriel had never felt more broken than he did right now.
She was lonely.
His mate was lonely.
He moved to her slowly, kneeling before her and stroking her cheek. “Let me take you home, Kaylee. It's going to get too cold here. You hate being cold.”
Kaylee wouldn't look at him. She didn't move from his touch, but she didn't acknowledge him either. It stung him to his core to see her like this. “Kaylee, starlight, please, come home. I will bring you back tomorrow if I must, just please come home.”
“Did you do it?” 
Azriel knew immediately what she meant. His stomach dropped as he got closer, finally feeling her soft skin under his. “No. I never touched her. You are mine, Kaylee. I am yours." He took her chin in his hand, forcing her face to his. "You are the only female I will ever want. I've waited over 500 years for you.”
And those long years wishing to the lost souls during Starfall and to every twinkling piece of starlight felt so miniscule now. What was 500 years compared to the eternity he was fated to have with Kaylee. Beautiful, kind, and innocent Kaylee. “I would never risk losing you.”  He almost jumped as the drake huffed, golden brown eyes opening to stare at the 3 males before snuggling into Kaylee. 
Azriel tentatively reached out, patting the nose of the beast resting his head in Kaylee's lap. “He is fairly attached to you already.” 
“Can you blame him?” Cassian took a small step towards Kaylee, gently tilting her head up. “Have you ever met someone like our Kaylee?”
Rhysand then moved closer to. “Such pure souls are rare. And it appears we all made a mistake while dealing with this one.” His hand brushed her golden hair back. “Come home, little sister.”
She shook her head, eyes watering as she snuggled into the drake's snoot and kissed it. “He is so lonely.” Another soft huff came. Then, the scent of magic. Where a large drake once laid, a small one now sat in Kaylee's hands. Wide blue eyes turned to Rhysand, a pout already forming and triggering a distant memory he didn't dare linger on for too long. “Can we keep him?” 
An otter, a drake, a rabbit, a fox. Azriel had lost track of the animals sneaking into Kaylee's room to join her as she slept soundly in his arms. She had never said she forgave him, never asked for more of an explanation, but she knew she did not want him to leave again. She knew she wanted him in her bed, even if a small scaled creature now shared her pillow. 
He pulled her close, breathing in her freshly cleaned hair. The scent of strawberries was clinging to her, but it was not her. Her natural scent had started to change, and Azriel could not complain. It now reminded him of a soft rain mixing with lilac, as if she was becoming nature itself.
He smiled as she turned over, hooking her leg over his. He pulled her closer, sighing softly at the same time she did. For the first time since she left with Lucien, Azriel found himself drifting off to sleep. Even if a creature he should have feared was currently crawling onto his mate and curling up on her side near him. 
Kaylee hated mornings, but she especially hated waking up alone after asking her mate to stay. As if he knew, Azriel walked into the room a tray in his hands as gray pants rested low on his hips. “Good morning,” he sent a small plate on the floor, watching as the unnamed drake went to the raw meat. His attention was then solely on her as he set the tray down and offered her his arm, leading her to the sitting area of her lavish room. 
Rhys had decorated it with pillows and throw blankets. She remembered him sparkling with pride as the mix of deep blues and golds, as if decorating so simply was a difficult task. She has praised him nonetheless, cherishing the budding relationship with her new big brother, and somehow sensing he needed a little sister to tell him how fantastic he truly was. She did just notice, though, how they matched Azriel's siphons. “This doesn't count as accepting the bond, right?”
Azriel chuckled softly as he gave Kaylee oatmeal and fruits, “Not unless you plan on feeding or serving me. Do you want to talk now or eat first?” They both jumped as the sound of blowing fire filled the room before a heavy munching noise. “Well that answers that question.”
He watched her as she ate. He memorized little things. How she swayed when she ate. How her nose would crinkle, smile going wide when she tasted something she was really enjoying. How her mouth would twitch when she smelled things. “You understand now why we wouldn't eat your food?”
Kaylee smiled as she rolled her eyes, “I cooked that meal.”
He clocked her nose twitch, noting it for later. “You did? Is that a preview of my future? Because if it is, I will prepare my own mating meal and just have you serve it."
Her jaw fell open before she threw a grape at him. “You are so mean.” 
“Tasted like shit.”
“Then I guess it's good I didn't actually make it.”
“Thank the Mother. I was concerned for my stomach." Kaylee smiled before leaning in to kiss bis cheek. "
Your nose twitches when you lie.” He watched her face fall slightly. “I noticed it when you told Feyre you would be okay after that first dinner. Then again, when she left after the first meeting. You also dance when you eat. When you sleep, your legs move until you find the perfect spot for them.”
Kaylee felt herself flushing, hearing all his little observations of her smallest habits, and Azriel smirked before he continued. “You whisper when you read, sounding out each word until you know you're correct. That's how we realized you couldn't read. You braid your hair when you get nervous. Rhys found that one for me as he was teaching you. You do all these simple little things that make me believe you are the most beautiful precious thing.” 
He grabbed her hands, holding them in his own. “I am sorry.” She nodded, brows raising to indicate to continue. He noted that as well, predicted this would not be his last apology to his mate. “I allowed myself to put duty before you, and it put us in a situation where you felt I was someone you could no longer trust. Rhysand and I have discussed his part in this, and he will apologize later, but my part hurt you more.” 
Kaylee felt herself losing her will to hold on to what little anger she had as he moved, kneeling before her. “I am sorry I was ever in her room. I am sorry I was too shocked to leave. I am sorry I did not speak with you right away that morning.”
“It's okay.” She could hardly blink before he kneeled for her. “Az-”
“It's not okay, Kaylee.” He listened to her heart as he touched her lower thighs. “I hurt you. I failed to protect you. I failed you as your mate.”
“Azriel-”
“Let me finish.” He brushed the tears falling on her face and sighed. “My job as your mate is to ensure you feel loved, that you are safe, and that you know we are equals in everything. I have allowed myself to be pulled away from you, and you needed me much more than your sisters did, didn't you?”
Kaylee looked to the ceiling, the door, anywhere but the male who she knew could feel every raw emotion she had. He squeezed her thighs softly, bringing her back to him. “Your silence is enough of an answer for me to know I have failed you. If you believe I am worthy of a third chance, I will not fail you again. I will be a male worthy of your love.” She was silent, too stunned to speak. “Kaylee, my love, please.”
Kaylee had to admit, Azriel looked pretty on his knees. He looked pretty begging for forgiveness over something that he didn't do. Over something she was learned was planned by her own sisters. 
Azriel kissed her palms, holding her hands so tightly it was as if he feared she'd disappear like the wind. "Whatever I have to do, whatever you need me to be, whatever you need. I will do anything to be worthy of holding you again. Kaylee, please." 
Kaylee just sighed, cupping his cheek as she did and stared into those desperate hazel eyes. “We have two weeks to put a strong united front.” He nodded in agreement, but his brows knit in confusion over the statement. “I want to also have a better relationship with you within two weeks. Just to shove it to Eris. But that also means you have to allow me to do something first.” He jumped her without hesitation, crashing her lips to his and delighting in her laughter. 
He would give Kaylee the world, live and breathe solely for the purpose of her happiness, and now he had to prove it.
Dinner that night was silent as Kaylee watched Elain watching Azriel. He had not left Kaylee's side since long slow kisses were shared in her room. They had only stopped when Rhys and Feyre came, knocking on the door after their late breakfast. The Lord and Lady laughed as Kaylee answered the door, hair a tangled mess from Azriel's hands while he laid panting on her bed in a state of bliss. 
He had not even left her as Rhysand trained her powers, watching as she called forth every beast and creature in her collection and communicated with them. Her powers had grown quickly, almost too quickly. The warning was still visible on her discolored fingers.
Kaylee had access to levels of magic that had not been granted since the first fae, levels that were hand given out by the Gods to their chosen few and carrying along those bloodlines in the rarest form. Lucien's warning rang in his and Rhysand's head, a warning of the former tamer who turned more beast than fae before walking off into the forest to never been seen again. 
It festered in the thoughts of both males as they communicated silently, involving Amren as they all looked to the youngest sister's discolored fingertips. It's as if the magic I'd eating at her body, Amren was studying her like a hawk. I will look into the Books.
Kaylee cut into her potato, smiling slightly as Azriel traded her steamed vegetables for the serving of meat she had not touched. “Kaylee, we're going to have to find a way to supplement proteins in your diet.”
Nesta shook her head and spoke softly, “She will get over it.” Nesta had been Kaylee's first fight since learning the truth. Her oldest sister had folded immediately. All cattiness out of her body as soon as they were alone together. Broken together.
And Nesta was broken. A simple fact Kaylee had known for a while. Her oldest sister had not thought of the consequences. She had just wanted Kaylee to hurt as much as she was, and watching her thrive, watching her grow, it had been too much. Kaylee allowed Nesta to hold her to whisper each apology. An apology for not protecting her, for what happened to them, for failing as a sister, and Kaylee accepted each one. It was a side of Nesta reserved only for Kaylee. The side of Nesta she told Cassian about and prayed had not been stolen from them. 
Nesta smiled to Kaylee, “She did this even when we were-” the sentence trailed off with the fond memory. “Azriel, the earring you bought Kaylee are lovely.”
“They are, aren't they?” Rhys moved to brush blonde hair behind a pointed ear. “They work well with the sapphires.” Small diamond twinkled next to the earring Azriel had given her before the Cauldron, sparkling in the light and showing off her newest piercing. 
Azriel maintained his mask, but moved a hand to her thigh under the table. “Only the best for my mate.” 
“And if she doesn't actually want you?” The question hung in the air. “Or if you don't truly want her? You two are forced together. Do you not deserve a choice, Azriel?"
“Elain,” Lucien's warning was a whisper. “Thread carefully.”
Lucien watched as the young Archeron put her silverware down. He watched her take out those mentioned earrings as everything paused as Feyre moved closer to Rhysand and away from Elain. 
“Mother fuck!” Cassian jumped back as Kaylee jumped Elain and chaos ensued. Nesta was the first to her two younger sisters, trying to pull the small wild animal that had taken Kaylee's place off of Elain as Mor and Amren watched with amused smiles. Rhys was next, touching Nesta's shoulder, stating he would handle it, only to be met with a well placed elbow from the now smirking eldest sister.
Azriel and Lucien stared at each other, both rapidly motioning for the other to do something as Kaylee landed a solid punch on Elain's shoulder. "You first. I insist," Lucien motioned towards them. "I already am missing one eye. I would like to keep the other." It was instantly noted by all in the room how the youngest sister was refusing to truly hurt Elain, to damage her more as tears of frustration and anger poured down Kaylee's face.
It was Cassian who finally took the youngest, throwing her over her shoulder and leaving the room with her. Kaylee watched each of his graceful steps, knowing where they were going as she clung to his leathers crying. He sunk her into the training ring, stepping back a few feet before getting into a stance and nodding. 
He braced himself for her sloppy attacks, knowing more than anything to cover his face, but knowing this was nothing. This was nothing compared to her anger when she first woke up. The only difference between the Kaylee before him and the one who begged to be trained was precision. He saw his opening, grabbing her by her waist and pulling her back to his chest. “Breathe, Kaylee.” He kissed the back of her head as her thrashing stopped. “Just breathe.” 
She could not see Cassian as the sobs slowed. She could not see the concern on his face as he looked to the skies.
Flying there in its full glory, circling above them like a predator searching for prey, was her drake, and Cassian was just hoping he, and no one in Velaris, was about to be it's next meal.
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@impossibelle @luvmoo @wallacewillow0773638 @nightless
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raitonsfw · 9 months
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𝚖𝚊𝚖𝚊'𝚜 𝚋𝚘𝚢 | 𝚗𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚌𝚑𝚞𝚞𝚢𝚊
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synopsis: He was a mama’s boy, through and through– in more ways than one. 
warnings: 18+ mdni, fem!reader, smut, mommy kink, dom!reader (kinda), sub!chuuya (again, kinda), cunnilingus, blowjob (while he's on the phone with his mother), chuuya’s obsessed, just a tiny drabble.
a/n: im so sorry, i honestly know nothing of stormbringer and all the light novels so i have no idea what his actual family relations are. just pretend ig! im currently still obsessing over soukoku in the main manga and anime, ill get into the actual lore of chuuya soonish so he’s not so ooc. wc; 500ish. m.list
divider credit: @benkeibear
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You knew Chuuya put up a front. He’d puff out his chest in the midst of enemies when he was with you in public and sneer at them if they made the wrong move, threatening to pull his gun on them. You watched him as his ego soared outside, at the bar with his Mafia members, yours boosting as well when it came to the night. Because you knew who he really was, seen that vulnerable side of him; behind closed doors, that man was begging on his knees in the middle of the room like the whore that he was. 
When he wasn’t out shielding his face with a stereotypical mask, he was stuck underneath your heel, nearly kissing the floor as you demanded the most of him. He worshipped you like a goddess, as if the straps of Greek mythology held you hostage and brought you to him. A deity of some sort, higher than the clouds that held Mount Olympus, he begged for his Aphrodite. Begged for her– you to touch him, his cock dripping against the fluffy carpet it hovered over. 
He’d whine as you stood over him, harshly pushing his face and his greedy tongue into the swell of your cunt. He’d lap up your wetness eagerly, the mess of it sticking to his face and damn near almost drowns in it. And while he’s doing that, he’d whimper into you, ‘please and thank yous’ with ‘fuck, mommy’ barely coming out as you grinded against his mouth. By the end of it, you would be cumming in waves on his face and a new carpet would be the first thing on your mind because Chuuya had busted all over it halfway through eating you out. 
And some days, your boy would call his own mama, his voice cracking a few times as you worked your pink tongue around his thick cock. The hand that wasn’t preoccupied with his phone would fly to your hair as you swallowed around him, saliva dribbling from the corners of your mouth and down his cock. Chuuya would babble on and on about nonsense, barely able to concentrate when you were sucking the soul out of him. He'd lose his train of thought, his sentence trailing off, and you’d listen to his mother scold him over the phone for losing his place in his over-elaborated story.
He’d have to call her back though to apologize as he’d hang up without so much as a goodbye teetering from his lips, his entire mind foggy from the pleasure you instilled in him. Whines would leak from his mouth in hushed intervals, ‘fuck, right there, please, keep going…’ and he’d push your head down further, making you choke and gag on his cock, thrusting up into the tight heat of your mouth. Chuuya isn’t particularly forceful, he could never do that to you, to his mommy, and he’d shoot his load down your throat, right then and there as he thought about what you could do to him when he eventually scolded you about the phone call bit. But he wouldn’t be mean about it, of course. 
He was a mama’s boy, through and through.
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a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!
extra a/n: part 2 coming soon!
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nino-rox · 1 year
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S.COUPS x Male Bottom Reader
Content Warning : NSFW Gay Smut, Alcohol consumption, verbal abuses, sexual themes (Degradation), Hookup Culture, Top Seungcheol and Bottom Male Reader.
Disclaimer : This is a Fan-fiction story written for entertainment purposes only, no part of the story implies or affirms anything regarding real world events or individuals. Please be of the appropriate age ( i.e, Adult as per your country’s stipulations and regulations) before interacting with this post.
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(CONSENT IS IMPLIED)
You didn’t think situations could change so quickly. One moment you were with friends at the club, and now suddenly, a 10-inch fat cock was fucking you senseless - it happened to belong to a rather sexy man. He was gonna take what he wanted. You were drunk; he was checking you out…You might not remember how it all started, but once the tip of his dick hit your tight hole, there was no going back. You could tell he would fuck your mind, body and soul, and you were only too happy to let him - in the gross bathroom stall. You were facing the wall, and he was behind you. Next thing you knew, his huge cock filled you up, your body reeling at the pain. He aggressively grabbed your neck, whispering in a deep tone, “You seem to be in pain… I hope you don’t think that means I’ll take it slow and easy with you slut,” after which he pulled out and shoved his cock back in making you yell from the pain as he began thrusting harshly in your tight hole. He held onto your hips, holding you still so you couldn’t do anything but let him fuck you; his big fat cock inside of you was almost more than you could bear. And if he kept doing things like this, you were sure your hole would rip apart, but the horny hunk fucked your ass so hard you started losing your mind. It was painful, but for some reason, it also felt so good…When you were about to pass out from the pain, you suddenly realized your hole wasn’t hurting anymore. In fact, the pressure was gone completely, and you thought you heard him say, “Fuck, you tight little fuck. You can feel every inch of my thick cock inside you…you know you love it slut…say it.” He spanked your ass as he rammed into you mercilessly, making you yelp. “Fuck yes, fuck me with your fat cock. It feels so fucking good inside me.” As he kept pounding into you harder and harder, the bathroom became silent except for the slapping sound of flesh on flesh. Then you could hear him moaning louder and faster, saying, “Yes, fuck yes, YES! FUCK ME, TAKE ME RAW YOU COCK LOVING SLUT!!” You weren’t sure who he was calling a slut cause you were drunk as fuck, but it sounded really hot. He shoved himself deeper inside your hole with each thrust. His pace increased, and he slammed his cock in and out, making you scream as he hit your G-spot with his thick shaft; the sensation was overwhelming.
Every single inch of your hole felt full, stretching to accommodate the thickness of his massive meat. He yanked your hair, pulling your head, making you arch your bag as he bit into your neck. You loved being fucked hard by a guy, but right now, nothing else mattered. All you cared about was having that monster thrust deep inside of you. He began breathing heavily in your ear, almost panting like an animal…He started grunting uncontrollably, shouting: “That’s it slut, take it, I’m gonna cum soon…I want to feel my cum splashing against that tight little asshole of yours, begging for more of my big fat cock.” When he came, you felt his hot, sticky load fill you up until it spilt out, filling your hole and dripping down your legs, covering them with his juices.
Author’s Note: Please Request/DM if you want me to write part 2!
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hollowed-theory-hall · 8 months
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Secrets of the Darkest Art: How to Make a Horcrux
So I saw many theories regarding how to make a Horcrux, but none of them really made perfect sense to me, so I decided to give it a crack myself as part of my mission to understand Lord Voldemort/Tom Marvolo Riddle (Which I think I did, big post coming about that at some point, this is but another piece of that puzzle of a man)
So this is my reverse engineering of a ritual to create Horcruxes based on book evidence, my knowledge of real-world alchemy, real-world ancient Greek cults and rituals and linguistic analysis.
How to reverse engineering a dark magical ritual:
The first thing, is to define what we knew fore certain:
The name: "Horcrux"
The creator is an Ancient Greek wizard named Harpo the Foul.
A death is required in the making.
A Horcrux holds a piece of the casters soul that anchors them to life so they won't die.
I'll actually start with the third point.
How to split a soul?
Both Dumbledore and Slughorn mention a death being required to tear your soul to make a Horcrux, and that never really sat right with me. It magically doesn't make sense and even the canon examples we have for Horcrux murders make this statment iffy.
We have seven examples of murders used to create Horcruxs (thanks to one Tom Riddle being dramatic):
The Diary - Myrtle Warren - killed by a basilisk. Sure, Tom freed the Basilisk, but it hardly seemed targeted at Myrtle specifically and you can argue he didn't actually kill her (more a manslaughter by negligence). He didn't cast the spell, so how come this tore his soul?
The Ring - his father (Tom Riddle Sr) - Avada Kadevra.
The Cup - Hepzibah Smith - she was poisoned by her house elf. Sure, the elf was under the imperious, but it wasn't a first-degree murder, and like with the Basilisk I find it hard to consider this the same as casting a killing curse. Magically those are very different things.
The Locket - Muggle Tramp - Avada Kadevra
The Diadem - Albanian Peasant - Avada Kadevra
Harry Potter - himself - backfired Avada Kadevra
Nagini - Bertha Jorkins - Avada Kadevra
Now, I used the term "magically different" or "magically make sense" what do I mean by that?
Well, besides the fact I'm going to make a full post about how I see magical theory in the Harry Potter Wizarding World, I'll say it takes a lot after occult philosophies from Alchemy that are very old, Slughorn mentions as much in book 6 and there are a few other references to it. I'm just gonna cover the basics required for this theory.
In Alchemy, everything (people, animals, plants and rocks) are built of three base components:
The Salt - the body - the physical form.
The Sulfur - the soul - the self that holds the divine flame.
The Murcury - the spirit - the life essence that binds the salt and sulfer together.
Now, in Alchemy, the main study is in purifying and combining these different aspects of material. Let's look at a herb, for an example:
If we want to retrieve its salt, we'll dry the herb completely using fire to leave behind a fine light grey ash that represents only the physical form.
If we wanted its mercury we'd distill all liquids from it until we get a purified, clear liquid which in the case of plants would be alcohol (it's why alcohol is referred to as "spirit").
And if we wanted its soul, we would take the remains from the distillation and drying process which would be a kind of oil.
(it can get more complicated with different materials, but this isn't a post about Alchemy)
Now, back to Horcruxs.
So, if we would want to split a soul, Alchemecly, how do we go about it?
Well, we don't. Not really. See a soul can't really be split, as every part of it, every bit of that oil from our random herb represents the entire soul. It's why something like a Horcrux could theoretically work in giving a full life to the diary the way we see in Chamber of Secrets.
Additionally, to work with any material in Alchemy, you are required to purify it first. It means that to get a piece of soul to bind to a diary, you need a pure soul.
Killing someone else won't sever your own soul from the spirit and the body, it's not how this works. Killing someone severs their spirit and therefore splits their body, spirit, and soul. Besides, an Ancient Greek man, like Herpo was, would hardly consider murder as vile as we do today. It wouldn't even cross his mind that any murder (even an indirect one) could harm one's own soul.
No, the only way to "split" a soul is to first sever it from life, disconnecting the bond between soul and body. Essentially, the only way to promise you immortality is to kill yourself.
I know it sounds a little confusing, but, essentially, once the soul is severed from the spirit and body you can split it. Think of the herbal oil, once you have the oil, separate from the rest of the plant parts, you can combine it with new ingredients. You can only work on a specific aspect once you severed it from the other two and as what binds all three together is spirit — life — the only way to do it for a human soul — is death.
But really, how?
Well, here comes the second thing we know about making Horcruxs — that dear Herpo was Ancient Greek.
In Ancient Greece they had multiple different religious cults, some of which were Chthonic cults. Cults that dedicated themselves to death or ditties and heroes associated with death and more importantly — rebirth.
Many of these cults were dedicated to figures like Orpheous, Dyonysus, Persephone, characters in mythology who are known for going through the underworld — through death — and coming back out. These cults were very secretive and not much is known about their practices, but some is.
What is known is that they had rituals were they reenacted a death and then rebirth (usually drinking wine — a water if life, was the representation of rebirth).
This created a very clear idea in my head — to split a soul, you'll have to ritualisticlly, magically kill yourself, severe a peice of your soul and then revive yourself with a water of life — a potion.
This potion is never mentioned, but I believe it exists due to these Chthonic cult rituals and how they were structured. Not only that, but the Greek underworld did have a river known for being incredibly painful to drink, literally made of fire, but being able to bring the dead back - The Phlegethon River.
Note: Lethe River Water (the river in the Greek Underworld that makes the drinker forget) is a canon ingredient in a Forgetfulness Potion.
So what is the dead body for?
Well, congratulations, you killed yourself to retrieve a sliver of your soul and revived yourself so you won't stay dead. You found an item you can keep secure to tie that sliver of soul, too. Now, how would you bind then? After all, the only thing meant to bind a human soul to a body is a human spirit - a human life... you get where I'm going with this.
This is why Tom didn't have to be the one to do the deed. As long as he had a recently deceased corpse to harvest the life from to use to bind his newly split soul and the item of his choice.
It explains why nothing was missing from the bodies. Myrtle and the Riddles were investigated by the Ministry of Magic. One would assume the aurors would've noticed if any corpse was missing a hand due to the killer eating it (as other Horcrux theories suggest).
Not only was nothing missing from the body, the soul was intact. Myrtle became a ghost after death, a ghost is quite literally, just the soul, no body, no spirit.
So the only thing that was taken from Tom's victims was their life, quite literally at that.
Is that all? Can we make a Horcrux now?
Not really. See, when analyzing spells in Harry Potter is their name.
Avada Kadevra - is a reference to an Aramaic healing spell "Abracadabra" pronounced in Aramaic as: "Avra Kadebra" and meaning "I will create as commanded". Merged with the Latin word "cadaver" meaning "corpse" to create -> "I will create dead bodies as commanded"
Or Wingardium Laviosa - is a cross of the English word "wing", the Latin word "arduus" (meaning "high, tall, lofty, steep, proudly elevated"), or "arduum" (meaning "steep place, the steep" and the Latin word "levo" (meaning to "raise, lift up"). So together the spell means -> "lift high up".
So, it's pretty clear spells, their names and incantations are very self-explanatory. So a Horcrux should be no different.
I've seen some attempts at translating the name Horcrux. Unfortunately, these attempts treated the name as Latin, modern Greek, or Old English. Herpo, was Ancient Greek, though, so I went and translated a few possible meanings from Ancient Greek (Classical Greek and Homeric Greek are what I looked at):
ὅρκος (orkus, pronounced "hor-kus") - an oath, the object by which one swears, bound by oath (still used in modern Greek).
κρόκες (crukes, pronounced "cru-kes") - saffron-colored (blood red in Greek), crocus flower. The crocus flower symbolizes both death (the saffron that is the spice) and rebirth (the golden crocus which brings renewal and joy) because Demeter wears them when Persephone returns from the underworld in myth.
So what we have is a spell called "binding oath of death and rebirth" which all around sounds fitting.
There might also be a "made in blood" tucked at the end due to the association of κρόκες with the color of blood.
But what does it matter?
Well, somewhat. As now with this name, I expect the binding between the spirit from the victim, the split soul, and the item would be done in a sort of oath - an orkus.
The association with blood gives us another hint. Blood is the part of the human body most representative of life. Therefore, in Alchemy, your blood is your spirit. So it'll make sense that your own blood would be used in the binding process or more correctly in the process of turning another person's spirit into your own. Making the thread to bind the body (item) and the soul piece your own. As it also refers to just a red firey color, it can indicate the Phlagatton potion I hypothesize should be part of the ritual due to how Chthonic rituals usually went, as the Phlagaton river is made of fire.
So we have a general idea on how to make a Horcrux. You need an item of your choice to bind your soul to. You need a life (spirit) harvested from a human that you transformed into being your own using your blood. And you need a piece of your own soul, which you get by killing yourself and then reviving yourself. And you finish it off by binding it all together with an oath.
But how could you make one accidentally?
So, everyone knows Voldemort succeeded in somehow making a Horcrux accidentally, something a lot of theories I saw don't account for. Becouse whatever process you need to go to to make a Horcrux, Voldemort went through all of it the night he died the first time and marked Harry.
All the steps for my method of making a Horcrux were met that night.
The item in qustion is baby Harry, nothing interesting there.
The soul sliver was split the way it always is — through death. Voldemort dies, killed by his own killing curse and that is what splits his soul.
The life or spirit that then binds his soul to Harry isn't Lily's spirit or James'; it's his own spirit that acts as a binder between Harry and Voldemort’s split soul. Because the spirit was already his, there was no need to transform it by blood.
Step-by-step guide to making Horcruxes:
I'm not going to actually give the full step-by-step least a budging dark lord is looking for this information. I do have notes about exact incantations and even the full recipe and instructions for the Phlagaton potion I'm going to mention. These instructions won't be here since they are more in the realm of speculation and headcanon. This is just the overview of the ritual based on canon information and the occult philosophy I mentioned above.
Step 1 - Life and Blood
Get access to a recently deceased human and extract their Mercury (Spirit or Life Essence).
Submerge the retrieved life essence with your own blood on a new moon (life and vitality). (7 drops of blood will probably do)
Step 2 - Water of Fire
To complete the cycle of death and rebirth you’ll need the Phlegeton Water potion to return you to life at the end of the cycle.
As you brew the potion, it must be brewed in a dark room, preferably underground to remind as much of the underworld as possible.
While brewing the potion one must be in the mindset of the Phlegeton, must be willing to go through agony to achieve eternal life and imbue these thoughts in their potion. (In alchemy, when working, it is believed you imbue your work with your thoughts during the Alchemical process. As an Alchemical process affects both the material being worked and the Alchemist themselves)
Likley Ingrediants:
Saffron spice
Golden crocus flower juice
Pomegranate juice
Step 3 - The Ritual Preparation
Set up your space so none of the components may escape the ritual space and so the ritual will not be interfered with.
Make sure the spirit you retrieved is within reach.
Make sure the item you desire will hold the Horcrux will be within reach as well.
Coax the spirit into the item and prepare it to tie your soul to the next step.
Step 4 - Death and Rebirth
To create a thread of your soul to tie to the ritual, you must die figuratively. Go through death to return stronger from the underworld.
Once you feel like death has reached you and your soul is separated you should heal your soul and finish the cycle, bringing you out of death and back to life by drinking the Phlegeton potion.
After the pain subsides you will feel healthier than before, stronger than before, and you’ll have an additional thread of sulfur (soul) in your chest to be pulled out and placed into the Horcrux.
The split-off soul should, on its own, try to search for life and a body to be bound to. If it doesn't, coax it out yourself and bind it to the Horcrux with the spirit you made in step 1.
Step 5 - Oath of Life
The connection between the body (the item), soul, and spirit is still unstable, if most likely strong enough to hold.
Swear the oath of life to finalise the bound between you, the Horcrux, and the soul thread together to ward off death.
I'll end with this note I made regarding Horcruxes when I started working on this theory:
I don't know what all goes into the process of making a Horcrux but I don't believe a person who truly likes themselves and doesn't want to inflict pain on themselves could make a Horcrux. Tearing up your soul is an act of arrogance above nature, sure, thinking you deserve to change the laws of the world and be the exception is part of it, but it's also an act of self-hatred. You need to hate yourself enough to be willing to kill yourself, hurt yourself, and tear yourself up in the most unnatural ways — hence why so few can do so, let alone more than once.
And Tom Riddle does seem to have that exact mix of arrogance, spite, and low self-esteem that would allow it.
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danger-bird · 6 months
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Touchstarved Astrology Headcanons🌠
Mostly based on my own irl observations over the years, as well as my bookworm era a few years ago . Also taking into account my own impressions & feelings for the LIs, so sufficiently biased and I'm not sorry. In the words of Danny DeVito: "I'm right, you're wrong, and there's nothing you can do about it!" /lovingly❤️
Ais
Venus in Virgo. Period. I'm dying on this hill. Fight me. No but fr, first he's a diehard animal lover and will jump into a dog fight to save a puppy. Second, he's giving "mother hen" behavior - says "watch your step", then grabs you when you trip and scolds you "told you to watch your step"(Virgo 101); sends you off with an ESCORT, jumps in fists first when the roughneck tries fighting you then hides you from the purple gang later and escorts you back himself - need I say more? Not to mention he VERY likely helped Kuras save us (his scent lingers in the clinic when MC wakes up), and helps in the clinic regularly (so a part-time nurse, most likely helped save Mhin too). Also, he was definitely watching over us even before the Seaspring (the scarred woman knew our name from somewhere, also the Unnamed can feel Ocudeus' presence outside the clinic). He craves taking care of someone - people, animals, soulless, poor unfortunate souls - you name it. And it's not for show - that's just how he is. That's how he shows love - by being attentive. All my favorite people have this placement, they're all like him in this regard - best Venus placement imo (yes, I'm a biased Venus in Taurus, BUT I'm also right, lol)
Scorpio Ascendant I mean... come on. Come on. He's LITERALLY a gang leader! Not that anybody needs convincing, but aside from the sharp, intense eyes and the fact he oozes sex appeal, this would place his Sun in 10th House- he is known publicly as a leader, his presence demands respect and attracts attention. BDE for sure. Also he's very smart, intuitive and observant. Very aware of his surroundings, can pick up on people's moods & intentions like it's nothing. I'm convinced he can literally read our mind. A smart, sexy and caring bastard, lord help me...
Kuras
Virgo Signature sign Kuras is very service-oriented, focused on helping the community and always looking for ways to assist others. Very mindful of people’s problems and what they’re in need of - and ready to provide it, no matter what it may cost him. He’s also very polite, but comes off rigid, like he’s read “Social Etiquette for Humans 101” and is following it to the letter lol. Also kinda nerdy – has his special interests, and if you let him he’ll talk about reductions and concoctions all day, every day. I don't think it's a specific placement that influences this behavior, it's the whole picture, thus - a signature sign!
Saturn Dominant This man is a Capricorn already, sure, but there’s a difference. Capricorn placements have an inner spark, a fire about them – they’re ambitious and driven while being practical and disciplined. Saturn, however, is a dry and dark, malefic - almost apocalyptic planet. It’s the last visible planet – the gatekeeper of the divine knowledge (depicted by the outer planets). It represents time, boundaries, a sense of duty and responsibility, guilt and the consequences of one's actions. A symbol of Kronos and the Devil, it represents the falling of God, the grotesque expression of divinity. Kuras has a curious mind, fascinated by science and humanity, and in light of the Kuras character lore (and his not-too-subtle mischievousness) he def has strong Uranus & Jupiter influence as well. But the Saturnian themes in particular parallel the themes and main conflict in his story most strongly.
Mercury Retrograde I had to. The way he's so precise and eloquent, but roundabout when he talks? How he's so tight-lipped and takes his sweet time before answering a question? Mercury retrograde, 100 percent. I don't make the rules.
Mhin
Moon in 1st House. How do I know? I have it. The color of printer paper (the sun hates us), emotions written all over their entire existence and impossible to hide, as well as rather intense emotional outbursts? Yes, yes and yes. Big-time tsundere? Yes. Big softy, too? Yes. We could be twins, honestly. I stg they have a crush on Ais, but unlike with Kuras they're not happy about it. I dunno, call it twin telepathy. The Christmas photo doesn't help either.
Water moon, most likely in Cancer. Not Scorpio, because their emotions fluctuate rapidly, and are overtly moody. The difference between big waves and a rip current, for example. But more so, this makes for a Sun-Moon square - the dissonance and lack of harmony between their outer persona and their inner needs and desires is clear. They have difficulty expressing their emotions, not difficulty as in showing them, but in a way where they come off wrong and get interpreted the wrong way. Very protective, like a smol soft crabbie shielding themselves with their shell. Pushes people away consciously, but hoping for someone to have enough of a "spine" to handle them and protect them, giving them a safe space to finally relax. Most of all they need love, reassurance and acceptance (my poor little meow meow💙)
Mars square Mercury That Mercury is in Aries, you can't tell me otherwise. The extra 'angry' coming from Mars in Capricorn is helping, too. But not only that, it also makes a square to their Sun AND an opposition to their Moon - a T-square, a highly difficult & stressful configuration. The Mars is in Capricorn because they like a partner with authority and attitude (Cap in 7th), and it makes for good synastry with Kuras (my cutie patooties). Also for how small they are, they're very agile and skilled with knifes (ruled by Mars).
Leander
Venus conjunct Pluto. Sexy. Magnetic. He pulls you in with the gravitational force of his tits. These people are the definition of an intense lover. Obsessive and hungry for love - and pain, equally, very big on extreme and overwhelming sensations. You have a terrible curse? Oooh, danger - gimme! You can never give them too much attention - they want it all, and they're not sharing. Possessive, wants to draw you into their little world and keep you for themselves.
Leo Ascendant, for a few reasons. I was initially thinking Libra, but after looking at everything, I decided on Leo. He has a noble presence - not surprising considering his upbringing. He's a very charismatic talker, well-spoken, lovely voice, can charm anyone into trusting him (Libra in 3rd coming through). To his credit, he takes his work seriously and comes off as a reliable boss (Cap in 6th, also Taurus in 10th). He wants to take care of people... or rather, wants to be seen as a savior. I really see him as a Gemini-Cancer cusp, but technically he's a Cancer so his sun will be in 12th house. It’s a house of self-undoing, the afterlife, illusions - ego and reality go to disintegrate here. All that connects into the life-and-death theme surrounding him and his design. The sun here becomes a fantasy, a goal rather than reality – a dream of being a leader, a hero, someone who people look up to for help and answers. He’s really giving Jesus-wannabe, with the resurrection and savior complex he has going on, as well as the over-the-top generosity. A big red crab, with a big red flag... and the tits to match (Cancer rules the booba).
Vere
Venus conjunct Midheaven, Midheaven being in Scorpio. With Sun in Scorpio. Lots of Scorpio. He’s so pretty! Pretty in an elegant, sensual, effortless yet manicured to perfection way. Apparently, the BBC (Big Bulky Collar) on him does not signal “DANGER!” to the rascals who take him for an easy target, because all they see is the approachable, delicate face and inviting voice. He knows the effect he has on people, and he’s using it to his advantage – to get a free drink, or to make people trust him juuust enough to get what he wants. He is attracted to power, powerful people, and wants power for himself – and he’s ruthless about achieving his goals, too (Scorpio in 10th); there’s a lot of gossip surrounding this man’s public image, his reputation. Venus conjunct Midheaven places a focus on art – he is an artist, appreciates art as well as creating it himself. He IS the art, or that’s the perception of him anyway.
Venus in Scorpio As Venusian as he appears, Venus is in detriment here – there’s conflicting emotions regarding his looks, and the perception of him – or rather, the expectations placed on him because of it. He'll break rules on purpose, act outrageous, play coy, use his beaty for all its worth – he’ll purposefully play the ‘bad guy’ as a form of rebellion, a defense mechanism. He can’t find comfort in a traditional relationship dynamic and has a hard time liking someone who likes them back - he’s afraid of commitment. I believe his confidence is a façade; there’s an underlying fear of betrayal and rejection, and a paranoia that any good thing that comes his way is a trick, a trap, or a lie. That he doesn’t deserve love or care, really. Buuut… if you’re like Ais and see him for all his ‘ugly’, and accept him anyway… then you’re really something💜.
1525 words. Yikes. I tried keeping the word count down.
Unsuccessful. Obviously.
If you’ve read this far, go have some water, a snack, a stretch – you deserve it! Doctor’s orders!!!
.
.
P.S. : Ais' side profile sprite is giving me "ex-punk mom wearing a cozy cardigan", is it just me? Anyone? Are you seeing it? Am I crazy? Do I need help?...
...I'll see myself out.
.
.
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seiya234 · 2 months
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21 grams lighter
that website, amirite? anyway can't fucking believe alex did it again.
----
“Uncle Dipper, the school said you had to sign this?”
“Me specifically?”
Hank frowned. “Well, an adult in our house.”
“You’re the first one we found,” Willow added.
Dipper picked up the paper, skimming it quickly and. Oh.
Oh my god.
“Mabel are you in here?”
As the triplets wandered off, task done, a head covered in googly eyes popped out the kitchen door. “Mmmyes?”
Dipper brandished the papers. “Do you remember MADD?”
“Moms Are Down with Drugs? Yeah. We had to do those worksheets, and go to that rally in the gym, and there was a dog in a jacket.” Mabel paused. “Also, I don’t think they actually knew what it meant when you say you’re down with something.”
“Okay, so MADD… but for selling your soul.”
The googly eyes, with impeccable comedic timing, all fell off of Mabel’s face.
“No.”
“Oh my god, there’s a pamphlet.”
By now, Mabel had joined him at the table. “’Soul Selling: Not Even Once!’ Oh. Oh Dipper, this is bad.”
He was trying to hold in peals of laughter. “I know!”
“I don’t think this is going to discourage anyone.”
“I know.”
“And look, they basically give you the directions to summon five different demons in the name of Not Doing That, this is really, really bad.”
“I̶t̷'̴s̵ ̸f̸a̷n̶t̸a̴s̶t̷i̸c̵!̴”
Mabel looked at him, just looked at him for a minute, sadness welling deep in her eyes.
“No. No it’s really not.”
------
Trillions.
A number that is truly incomprehensible, much less in the context of time.
There were souls that rotted in that stomach longer than the oldest rocks of Earth.
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[from the M.A.D.D. Brochure, 2285]
“So remember kids, selling your soul doesn’t just effect you. It effects every version of you! It is an indelible mark that will linger for eternity, never changing, never going away. Paths, choices, loved ones, all will wither in the face of the horrible decision that you made! Eternity is forever, don’t make it your fault!”
[penciled in the margins, a note: “so we aren’t going to talk about social inequality or systemic racism then are we?”]
------------
(the most eternal, sacred part of a being)
Dipper had been a demon for all of a month, if that, when he was offered his first soul. For a while, he… didn’t really do anything with them.
When he did, it was of course super traumatic for everyone involved but eh, that kind of went with the territory of everything that was happening in his life lately.
Point being, he never was sure why Bill kept everyone trapped inside of him, constantly screaming, constantly playing beach tunes to drown them out. No, better to eat them, get the power, set them free.
Like, obviously, not great to be eating souls in the first place, and yeah, yeah, he could tell, even ten thousand (ten million) (ten billion) years later who he had crunch munched through, but like, they were able to be out there living their lives! Doing stuff. Cycling back through.
Honestly. What had Bill been planning to do with them?
--------
For the first week after it happened, animals ran away from Mabel.
Not just cats and dogs but all animals. Flocks of birds would fly off at her approach, deer would get near the Shack and then run off, and Gompers disappeared into the woods.
After the bear ran screaming from her, Mabel put two and two together, and called Dipper.
“Is this forever?”
Dipper frowned. “What do you mean?”
Mabel waved at her body. “This.”
(it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair she was only 16/18/22/17, she didn’t mean for this to happen, she only wanted to live, he only wanted her to live, this wasn’t f a i r )
“Oh. Uh. Um.”
“Dipper. Just. Tell. Me.”
“Hold on.” He reached into his stomach, and pulled out something…. Ineffable.
It felt like every single cell in Mabel’s body was reaching towards it, she found herself walking towards Dipper’s open hand.
The demon looked at her.
“You can have it back.”
She was crying. When did she start crying? And more worryingly, why did it feel like this was the first real, true thing she had felt in a week?
He pushed the Ineffable thing into her chest, and Mabel sank to the ground, sobbing. She felt whole again.
She didn’t realize that she hadn’t been whole, not truly, not until now.
Alcor smirked. “Consider it… out on lease. I’ll take it back eventually.”
She should have challenged him on that. Should have asked him about that. Should have done a million trillion other things.
But Mabel was human. And scared. And so, so very young.
---------
(you were birds)
A young man with fluffy brown hair, mixing his blood with his sister and his new brother-in-law, making a promise.
(you were trees with roots entangled)
They made a family together, it was a beautiful family, they let him stay, stay when anyone else would have told him to leave.
(wherever we go next, whatever you choose, I will always be right there with you)
They fit, like spoons in a drawer, like yin and yang, salt and pepper, ketchup and mustard, literally a million different pairings you could compare the two of them to. They weren’t perfect but love doesn’t need to be, and shouldn’t be perfect.
(that’s done buddy)
One grave
(congratulations)
Another grave, but eighty years later.
(you chose Alcor instead)
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meiliarotten · 1 year
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Team Fortress 2 Kinktober Time Three: Return of the Kink
Day 1: Language of Lust (Voice Kink)
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🔞MINORS DNI🔞
Pairings: Medic x Fem!Reader
Summary: The first thing art of my third Kinktober challenge, let’s go besties!
Tags: voice kink, language kink, oral, scratching, gratuitous German, aftercare
Word Count: 4.3k
The Masterlist
You tried to understand Medic, you truly did. He talked about his experiments at length, and anyone could see how passionate he was about them. Still, he often forgot that not everyone understood the medical jargon that he did, and you couldn’t bring yourself to interrupt him. The last thing you were able to understand was something about the superiority of the mega baboon heart when compared to the average human’s. It was all downhill from there, but as long as he kept talking, you would keep listening, nodding along. The truth was you loved to hear Medic talk, and the reasons weren’t entirely innocent.
“Now this part gets a bit complicated, are you paying attention?” Medic asked, gesturing towards a rough diagram he had scribbled on the back of some paperwork. As far as you could tell, it seemed to be detailing how one would successfully prevent the human body from rejecting animal organs, specifically the uterus, for some reason. Usually you wouldn’t question it, but you felt it would be wrong to let him keep going on if you truly didn’t understand. Plus, it might mean you get to hear him talk for longer.
“Oh yes! Of course I am,” you said. “But just in case, could you run it by me one more time?”
Medic sighed, smiling fondly at you in a way that made your heart skip a beat. “I am starting to think you just enjoy hearing me ramble, mein schatz.”
You hoped he wouldn’t notice the soft blush that colored your cheeks. He had no idea how well he had just read you. “Maybe I do,” you said, trying to keep your tone as casual as possible.
“Well, I appreciate that. Not many are willing to listen to me go on like this. However, you don’t have to pretend to understand for my sake.” You noticed a hint of sadness in that statement. You knew how it felt to enjoy something, especially something weird, and have no one to share your interests with.
“I don’t have to understand to see how passionate you are about it, and I like it when you get worked up.” You paused for a moment before realizing how that sounded. “When you’re excited, I mean. Excited about your work.”
Medic chuckled. “Is that so? I have always wondered what you enjoyed out of these conversations we share.” He got a bit closer to you, looking you up and down like an intriguing specimen. “And while I do believe you like seeing me happy, I don’t think that’s the only reason.”
“What do you mean?” you asked, perhaps a bit too quickly. You kicked your legs nervously, hearing the metal operation table you were sitting on creak slightly as you did.
“Let’s see,” Medic said, leaning in, studying you. Suddenly, he started touching you. It was entirely innocent, nothing that wouldn’t be done during a normal physical, even if it did leave goosebumps all over your skin. You started giggling uncontrollably when his fingers lingered on areas that he knew were ticklish. All the while he made mock ‘observations’ about you. “A slight flush, perspiration on the brow… excellent bone structure!”
You narrowed your eyes at him, growing more confused by the second. “What the hell does my bone structure have to do with anything?”
“Nothing,” Medic said. “But based on how much redder your face just became, I would say you like it when I compliment your appearance.”
You stared at Medic, finding yourself at a loss for words. He held your gaze, and you looked away first with an awkward laugh, feeling like he was staring right into your soul. Was this really happening? Was this Medic’s way of flirting?
Placing a hand on your cheek, you found that it was indeed warm. You also probably should have been unnerved by Medic’s comment, given his track record with skeletons. In fact, he had once detailed how he planned to one-up that particular achievement with something he lovingly referred to as ‘the circulatory system heist.’ Honestly, he probably wouldn’t be satisfied until he managed to steal every major organ system in the human body at least once, preferably leaving his victim alive in the process.
Finally, you responded. “It’s not just the compliments. Truthfully, I just like hearing you talk. You have a hot voice.” A moment of silence was all it took for you to realize what you had just admitted. Shit. You had gotten too comfortable. You had said too much, and of course, your immediate response was to stammer your way through a desperate, panicked stream of consciousness. “I mean nice! You have a nice voice, in a normal way. It’s, uh- unique, with the accent, you know? Yeah, that’s it. You would make a good narrator.”
Real smooth. Perfectly executed. He wouldn’t suspect a thing.
He had, in fact, suspected many things. An expression flashed across Medic’s face. First came realization, and then surprise. You weren’t sure whether you should be proud of the fact that you actually managed to surprise Medic, of all people.
“You like my accent?” He spoke with a certainty that implied he already knew the answer. You wished you could blame it on Medic being observant, but the fact was you had basically outed your massive crush on the team doctor in a moment of weakness. The only thing to do now was own up.
“Maybe,” you said, just above a whisper. You’re face was so red, and you felt hot from the blood rushing to your face. “I do have a bit of a thing for it.”
It was definitely more than just ‘a bit of a thing.’
“I am surprised. Usually when it comes to accents people go for the French, or the other romance languages,” Medic said, looking you over like you were a subject to be psychoanalyzed. It made you feel so small, even though you had the freedom to leave whenever you wanted. Not that you would. You liked where this conversation seemed to be going, even if you were embarrassed by how it was initiated.
“I guess I just have unique tastes.” There wasn’t much more of an explanation for you to give. You weren’t quite sure when you developed a thing for accents, let alone Medic’s in particular, but the human brain worked in mysterious ways. While you satiated yourself with the occasional foreign nickname he had given you, there was a part of you that occupied lonely nights with thoughts of how it might sound if he were to moan against your ear, whispering sweet nothings in a language you barely understood.
“I hope that this isn’t the only reason you come to visit me,” Medic said. “I actually thought you enjoyed hearing me ramble about exotic animal parts and Medigun technology, but perhaps that was just wishful thinking, ja?”
“Of course not,” you quickly reassured him. “I guess you could say I came for the accent and stayed for the sordid tales of grand theft skeleton.”
That at least got a laugh out of him. “Well then, I suppose I can’t be too hurt, liebchen.”
Damn it. Your blush had just begun to calm down, too. “That’s not fair!”
“Why not? You didn’t seem to have a problem with my little pet names before. In fact, I think you liked them very much.” His eyes narrowed, zeroing in on you in a way that reminded you of a wolf tracking its kill.
“It’s different now that you know,” you stammered, struggling to keep your composure as you held his gaze.
“How so, schatz?”
You huffed. Now he was just doing it on purpose. You weren’t going to humor him with an answer if he was just going to keep teasing you- until you felt a breath against your ear. “I asked you a question, mein engelchen. I expect an answer.”
“Oh fuck,” you whispered. You hadn’t even realized how close Medic was getting. Now his arms were on either side of you, gripping the edges of the operation table. He probably noticed the way your body stiffened and the way you squeezed your thighs together. Even so, a part of you worried you were being too presumptuous. Was this really going where you thought it was going? “Medic, what are you doing?”
“I thought that would have been obvious,” he said, chuckling softly. “I’m giving you what you want, if you’ll let me.”
“Seriously?” you asked, trying not to be too embarrassed at how the word came out as more of a shocked squeal.
“Only if you want to.” Medic backed away to look you up and down. He still wore a knowing smirk, but there was a hint of sincerity behind it that let you know that if you wanted this to stop, it would stop. You didn’t want that though. You had dreamt of a moment like this, and here it was, being offered on a silver platter, or rather, a silver operating table.
Before you could think, almost as if on instinct, you leaned forward and kissed him. You felt him startle, jolting against you slightly before he melted into the sinfully short kiss. You looked up at him with glassy eyes when you parted. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do this.”
Looking up at him like that, you were irresistible. Medic leaned down, kissing you hard. He was much rougher, biting at your lower lip until he could slip his tongue into your mouth. Your legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him against you. He moaned into your mouth as you grounded against him, cursing the layers of fabric that remained between the two of you.
“Medic, please,” you gasped when you parted for a breath.
“How about you beg for me in my native tongue?” Medic said. “After all, I know how much you love it.”
“I don’t know how,” you whined, not even caring that you sounded utterly pathetic. Your voice was already quivering and besides a heated makeout, nothing had really happened yet.
Medic’s gaze softened. You were adorable when you were frustrated. “I’ll teach you, liebe. You know how to say please, don’t you?”
“Bitte.” You responded with some confidence, having heard Medic say it before, usually when asking for assistance on the battlefield.
“Very good. Now, repeat after me, ‘Bitte, lass mich deinen Schwanz lutschen.’” He spoke slowly, and you repeated the words at the same pace, occasionally struggling around the pronunciation that felt foreign on your tongue.
Medic smiled, and you took that as a sign that you did well. “What does it mean?”
That smile twisted into a smirk. “It means, ‘please, let me suck your cock.’”
The heat in your cheeks deepened, and you knew you had just turned a much deeper shade of red. Perhaps it was a bit naive of you to think that what you had just said would be anything other than lewd. “Well,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “Can I?”
“Certainly!” Medic’s swirk widened, his teeth glinting in the harsh light of the infirmary. His eyes tracked your every move as you dismounted the table, pacing around him until he was leaning back on the steel surface and you were knelt down in front of him. His ever present gaze made you shiver. Reaching for his belt, you paused at the buckle, glancing up at him nervously. “Go on, liebling.”
You nodded, wasting little time unfastening the belt and unzipping his fly. With some finessing, you eventually freed his cock, working him up with your hand. The way he groaned at your touch made you squirm, pressing your thighs together in an attempt to quell your arousal. You were quite proud to find that he was already half hard.
It wasn’t long before you could get to work with your mouth. You licked your lips until they were reddened and wet. The noise he made when you simply dragged your tongue along the underside of his cock was maddening. You had fantasized about what it might be like to hear him moan, to watch him come undone with your touch, but nothing could compare to the real thing. You needed to hear more.
Little did you know, Medic had thought about this before as well. He had wondered how you would look on your knees, lips parted and ready to take anything he gave you. You took it so well, too. Your mouth was tight around his shaft, and you did such delightful things with your tongue that made him grip the edge of the table and pulled shaky groans from his lips. “That’s it, keep going, liebchen. Du machst das so gut, you’re so good!”
You shuddered, a low moan escaping you. Although it was muffled, Medic immediately took notice. Your muscles were taut, and you seemed to double your efforts, bobbing your head faster and working your tongue against him. Something he said had certainly motivated you. ‘A praise kink,’ Medic thought to himself. ‘This will be fun.’
“Do you like it when I call you good?” You would have nodded if you weren’t otherwise occupied. In fact, you were so wrapped up in your current task that you barely heard him. He didn’t seem to need any further confirmation though. Medic weaved his fingers into your hair until he had a tight grip close to your scalp. “Let’s see just how good you can be for me then. I want to feel your throat tighten around me.”
He pushed you further down onto his cock. Every move was gentle and gradual. Medic paid attention to your reactions, pausing whenever he felt you gag, letting you adjust until eventually you managed to take him as deep as he hoped for. You were held there, breathing slowly through your nose as you felt his cock press into your throat. Your tongue continued to massage the underside of his cock.
“Sheiße,” Medic cursed softly. His grip on your hair loosened, and you took the opportunity to start bobbing your head again. Only now, you could take him to the hilt on your own accord. Instantly he was gripping the edge of the operating table in a white knuckled grasp. “Oh gott, liebling! That’s so good!” He was panting, and you loved it. Every sound that came out of him was breathy and high pitched, almost sounding more akin to whimpers than moans. “You’re doing so well, meine gutes mädchen, my good girl!”
Of course the praise wasn’t about to let up. You moaned around his cock, doubling your efforts. You were a good girl, you were his good girl, and you wanted to prove it with every fiber of your being. For a moment, you thought you could be content to simply bring him to completion right there, your own pleasure be damned, but it seemed like Medic had other plans. You felt a harsh tug on your hair, pulling you off of his cock. You gasped, the sound quickly turning into a whine.
“Sorry, liebchen, but with the way you were moaning…” He paused for a breath. Medic’s expression was pained, as if he didn’t want to make you stop, but forced himself to. “I was getting much too close, and I still want a chance to fuck you properly.”
You immediately jumped at that, almost literally, as you hoisted yourself back up onto the table with surprising speed. The metal had gone cold, cold enough that you felt it through your clothing, causing you to shiver. Speaking of clothing, you were still wearing far too much of it. At least that’s what Medic seemed to think. He quickly stripped you of your pants and underwear, only allowing your top to remain, to ward off the chill of the metal.
Medic took in the sight of you slowly, relishing every detail. Your legs were spread wide and inviting. Oh, you were positively soaked. He ran a finger over your sex and it came back wet and shining. The gesture left you shuddering. It seemed you were sensitive to even the smallest touch. This was going to be fun.
“Please, please fuck me!” you whined.
“You can’t withstand a little teasing, liebchen?” Medic laughed, letting his hands caress your inner thighs, so tantalizingly close to where you wanted to be touched, but just out of reach. “Don’t worry, you’ll have what you want, but first, beg for me properly.”
“Bitte!” you cried, recalling your earlier lessons. “Bitte, Medic!”
“You remembered! Very good.” He dragged you forward to the edge of the table, sliding his cock against you, past your entrance and up to your clit. So close, so agonizingly close. “Now let’s add some new vocabulary. Say, ‘bitte, fick mich.’”
“Bitte! Fick mich!” You didn’t hesitate like before. There was no need to speak slowly and sound out words. Desperation apparently did wonders for your pronunciation.
“Perfekt.”
Medic’s cock was coated in your arousal, twitching against you. He was just as needy as you were, he was just better at hiding it, but there was no need to resist anymore. In one quick thrust, Medic lets you feel every inch of him. The noise you made was animalistic. You clung onto his arm, pulling at the sleeves of the white coat that he still wore. You didn’t even mind- the uniform was starting to become part of the appeal.
He groaned, thrusting slowly, savoring the feeling of your warmth around him. You watched, enraptured by the way he buried himself within you. “So good,” he muttered. You glanced up at him, meeting his eyes. “Is it good for you too, meine liebe?”
Medic stroked your cheek gently, his gaze softening. “It feels good. Fuck, Medic! Please fuck me harder!” you gasped, bucking your hips uselessly.
That moment of gentleness faded as soon as it arrived. Medic gripped the edge of the table for leverage as he fucked you against it. The metal creaked beneath the barrage, but it wouldn’t give away. This table was built to hold the likes of Heavy, there was no way it would buckle. Any other surface very well might have, though.
“I’ve wanted to do this for such a long time,” Medic groaned, his voice low and his breathing heavy. Even now, he tried to take in every feature, committing the image of you taking him so nicely to memory. Everything from the gentle bounce of your chest to the way you bit your lower lip in a vain attempt to smother your own moans would be a detail he could call upon during lonely nights. “If only I knew sooner that you were so smitten with something as simple as my voice.”
Suddenly, his grip shifted to your waist, pulling you forward to meet his thrusts. You keened, feeling him drive deeper into you. He rocked his hips against yours, letting you grind and adjust to the newfound depth.
“Medic,” you began, struggling to catch your breath enough to speak. “Medic, I want- oh fuck!”
“What is it, liebchen?” He paused, letting you regain enough composure to speak. “Go on, tell me what you need.”
“Just keep speaking to me, please, until I come,” you pleaded.
“What would you like to speak about?” He asked, a knowing smirk on his face.
“Anything,” you said, hesitating for a moment before continuing. “And could you maybe do it in German?”
“Natürlich, kleine Taube. Ich glaube, du willst es härter, ja?” Now unable to understand him, the ferocious pace you were subjected to came without warning. You held onto the edges of the table, feeling the metal dig into your fingers as your grip tightened. Medic’s fingers pressed into the softness of your waist. You gasped when his nails dug in as well, adding a delightfully painful edge to the pleasure. “Das gefällt dir, nicht wahr?”
The pain was gone almost as suddenly as it began. You whined, unable to hide how much you had enjoyed the rougher treatment. It wasn’t long before you got another taste. Medic’s hands moved down to your ass, his nails leaving little crescent shaped indents in the supple flesh there as well. You were starting to pant, mouth agape and gasping as he suddenly lifted your hips upward.
“Gott, du hast so einen schönen Arsch. Das nächste Mal sollte ich dich von hinten nehmen.” This new angle proved to be very effective. You were much louder like this, his cock hitting all the right spots. Medic knew that if he were to simply touch your clit right now, you would be coming for him in seconds. However he wasn’t ready for this to end just yet.
Your moans were music to his ears. Should any of his fellow mercenaries pass by the infirmary right now, it wouldn’t be hard to determine just what was happening. The thought managed to rouse some envy in Medic. Your sweet sounds were for him alone. Perhaps it would be better to quiet you down for now. Leaning down, he pressed his lips roughly to yours, muffling your noises. You still whimpered between kisses, but they were soft and subtle, just barely loud enough to reach his ears.
“Magst du es, wenn ich dich küsse? Soll ich weitermachen?” he murmured, stealing another soul reaping kiss. This was quite liberating, being able to say whatever he wanted to you, only to watch you melt at the sound of it every time. “Du musst nicht antworten. Es ist für mich offensichtlich.”
You rolled your hips to meet his. He felt the way your muscles flexed under his hands, and he knew you were close. You whimpered and gasped, haphazardly bucking against him, chasing the last bit of sensation that would tip you over the edge. Your expression was a beautiful mix of desperate frustration and overwhelming pleasure. It was a sight that brought Medic dangerously close to losing control. Realizing he was reaching his limit, he finally showed you some mercy, knowing that the look on your face when you came would far outweigh anything he had yet seen.
“Komm für mich,” he groaned. One hand splayed out on your lower stomach, his thumb reached down to rub quick circles over your clit. You may not have known German, but you could most certainly infer what that meant. You shuddered, back arching, letting out a harsh sounding moan as your orgasm overtook you. “Du fühlst dich so gut an. Ich komme- scheiße!”
Now that you had reached your peak, Medic’s inhibitions seemed to be gone. He chased his own climax, thrusting into you roughly and unevenly. When he finally went still, you had practically gone limp beneath him, overstimulated and teary eyed. When he came you could have sworn he was even louder than you were. You almost wondered if he was playing it up, given your affinity for his voice, but on the other hand, Medic was loud and proud in most situations. It would only make sense that he was a bit of a screamer himself.
When he finally came down from his high he noticed how you were trembling. It was clear that your body was overwhelmed. A few tears managed to spill down your cheeks, even as a blissed out smile remained on your face. You probably didn’t even realize you were crying. Medic withdrew carefully, making an apologetic sound when you whimpered at the sensation.
“You’re going to be sore tomorrow,” he said, stating the obvious. Medic observed you for a moment, making sure you were alright, before you suddenly found yourself being hoisted against his chest. You wrapped your legs around his waist for stability as he lifted you off the table and carried you towards an offshoot of the infirmary. Before you could ask where he was going, or how the hell he had the strength left to carry you like this, Medic opened the door to reveal a small, but cozy room. This was clearly his personal quarters. It made sense that it would be part of the infirmary.
“Why are we here?” you asked. Your words were soft, as if raising your voice above a whisper might shatter the pleasant afterglow that had began to settle over you.
“It is quite late. The least I could do is let you stay the night.” Medic laid you down on the surprisingly plush mattress. This was luxury compared to your barracks. You stretched out before burrowing into the blankets letting them engulf you.
“Thank you,” you whispered. “For all of this. That was so good.”
“I had fun as well, mein Täubchen.”
That pet name was new. He had used it a few times tonight, but only now did it pique your interest. “What does that mean?” you asked.
Medic smiled softly. “My dove.”
“Oh,” you said, too flustered to say much else. Being compared to one of his beloved pets felt nice. It made you feel delicate, like something to be cared for.
“You blush so easily!” Medic said with pure glee. You almost expected him to pinch your cheeks. “I will definitely enjoy this side of you, liebe, so easy to tease!
“Yeah, yeah,” you said, trying to brush it off, even though you knew your face was practically glowing with the flush that you were sporting. “Maybe we can do more tomorrow. I’m exhausted.”
“Of course. This was quite an eventful day.” Medic kissed your forehead, an oddly tender gesture after all the rough treatment. “Get some rest. I will join you once I’ve cleaned up in the infirmary.”
Medic left and you closed your eyes. When he returned just a few minutes later you were already asleep, snoring softly in your sanctuary of pillows and blankets. He had never seen you so relaxed before. You murmured something unintelligible when Medic slipped under the covers beside you, whispering for you to go back to sleep as he draped an arm over you, feeling your body press closely against his in the peaceful darkness.
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ghoulsgraveyard · 17 days
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Mattress Shopping
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a/n: oops! all fluff! I wrote this one while not high and You Can Tell. this is a very soft fic, very domestic. It takes place in the same universe as Animal Instinct and is a direct sequel, but there is no piss kink, only references to it. content warnings: mentions of sex and violence, allusions to piss (hilarious phrase), emotional hurt/comfort. word count: 2k part 1
You were about to head back up to your apartment when Logan took your hand and started walking towards his car. “Lo, where are we going?” He looks at you, confused. “I thought you said you wanted to go mattress shopping?” Logan hated shopping. It was loud and crowded and too bright. It always took too long. But Logan also loved you. And he loved you more than he hated shopping. “You don’t have to come if you don't want to, I know you don't like shopping.” Logan opens your door for you before heading around to the driver's seat “I’ll be using the thing too.” he states “Besides, there are worse things I could be doing than spending the day with you” he grumbles out afterwards as he starts the car. You practically melt into the seat. It never gets old, his loving you. You’ll cherish these acts of love every single time. “You sap” you say with a giggle. “Yeah yeah, dont go telling people that.” he starts the car with a wink towards you. After hours of sterile lights and crackling top 40 hits, you and Logan had successfully found a mattress. The incredibly persistent salesman changed his tune very quickly after the third time he tried to upsell you and Logan had unsheathed his claws. “W-would you like to use our delivery and installation service?” he said shakily, one last attempt to up his commission. Logan had enough. “Listen pal, I don't need to throw money away on something I can do myself. I got two arms and two legs. Just give me the goddamned mattress” he was not loud, but he was also not fucking around.
After loading the mattress into the back of the car you were on your way back. “Thank you for coming with me” you smile at him and he furrows his brow “why?” he grunts out, eyes on the road. “You made mattress shopping better.” you tease, he lets out a humorless chuckle “Honey i was grumpy and threatened a salesman. I made that experience worse, not better.” You frown at this. “I don't think you did. You certainly got us a better deal on that mattress.” you look over to him, his frown still prominent.
 “Logan, you make everything better. Sometimes I feel like you don’t realize that I don't just love you, I like you. Like fundamentally, as a person, I genuinely enjoy being in your presence. I like to spend time with you logan. You’re grumpy and a little mean, you drink and you smoke and I love you all the same. You’re who I want to be with. You’re my person, you’re who I choose. There is no one I would rather go mattress shopping with.” 
He doesn’t have anything to say to that. What could he even say to that? How do you tell someone that they have shifted your sense of self? How does he begin to describe how your love has changed him? How could it not change him? He’s lived his whole life hating himself. his thoughts, his actions, to the very essence of his core, his soul, his being, he hated himself. Everything he touched he ruined, every person he loved died, he was the worst Logan and everyone knew it. 
Now he’s not so sure. How could he be so awful when you loved him so much? He trusted you, and he trusted your judgment of character, so logically he has to face that he’s not all bad. But it’s more than that. Your presence in his life has to be proof of something, call it god, call it the universe, call it karma, you were all the proof he needed that at one point he did something good. He must have done something really and truly good to earn you. There’s a voice in his head now to fight back that familiar dialogue. A voice that tells him he’s a good man with bad circumstances, a voice that tells him his mistakes don’t define him, it’s a voice that sounds like yours. If you, beautiful, kind and perfect you, could love him? He must have done something right. He has good in him, you make him believe it. All he can do is grab your hand and squeeze it. One day he’ll tell you. One day he’ll find the right words and put them in the right order and he’ll be able to tell you that he is devastatingly, irrevocably and wholly in love with you. But until that day he’ll hold you close, be sweet only for you, and even go mattress shopping. All for you.
That night, after you had gotten the new bed set up, you both went over to Wade’s for drinks. After about thirty minutes, Wade claps his hands with glee in the kitchen as he pours more tequila into a whiskey glass. He practically prances back into the room returning to his seat “Soooooo what 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 shit did you two get up with today” he waggles his fingers at you. How did he do that with his voice? Nevermind. Logan sputters into his drink, recovering quickly “The hell are you talkin about?” he grunts. Wade looks delighted. “I am so glad you asked pookie” Logan groans as he continues, “I was on my daily walk around your building and I couldn't help but notice a set of your sheets and a whole mattress in your dumpster!” Wade teases. “Daily walks?” Logan growls “you root through our trash?” you question. “Hold on, don't turn this around on me, either you’re sexual deviants or Wolvy dear is getting really old, or both!” Wade coos, sipping his drink.
10 minutes later when you’re finally able to separate Logan from him with as little blood shed as possible (with varying degrees of success) you decide to cut the night short. Thirty minutes before blood might be a new record for the two of them actually. Logan presses the button to summon the elevator, you reach for your phone to- shit! “Babe I forgot my phone, I’ll be right back” he lets out a hmph to confirm he heard you. You jog back to Wade’s door, opening it with ease. Fucker never locks his door, says it an ‘open invitation’. Whatever that means. “Hey, sorry I forgot my phone” Wade leans against the counter taking a break from washing dishes. “Oh it’s all right boo” he grins as you search through the spot where you sat “But while I have you here” he trails off probing your response to his previous question. You found your phone… right next to Wade. Rolling your eyes at his antics “Oops?” he smiles. You punch him on your way out with no real malice, but before reaching the door, you turn back to say “Well it’s not the second one” you wink and jog right back to Logan.
 “Harlots!” you hear Wade yell at you from his door before slamming it. Logan raises an eyebrow in question “What did ya say to him?” you take his hand in the elevator “Oh nothing” you smile with a hint of mischief. He looks at you accusatorial “well nothing that isn’t true” Logan groans at your response “you know i’m never going to hear the end of this. I have to interact with him wayyy more than you do” you step out of the elevator, heading towards the car as Logan continues “He’s going to ask me more questions about it, and then I'm gonna have to stab him.” He opens the passenger door for you “thought you didn’t like it when I skewered the little shit.” Logan pulls a cigar from the glove box, slicing off the end with a claw. “Can ya give me a light here sugar?” he grumbles out with the cigar between his teeth as he starts the car. 
Fuck he was handsome. Devastatingly so. The wrinkles on his face from his seemingly permanent soured expression, his strong jaw extenuated by facial hair that would look ridiculous on anyone else, the way his shirt was unbuttoned so you could begin to see a peek of his salt and pepper chest hair, it just wasn’t fair that any man could look this good. 
“Hon” he grunts out. You snapped back to the present, finding the lighter a bit further back in the glovebox. You hold the flame to the end while he sucks in, creating a bright cherry at the end of the stick. “I never said not to skewer him” you start “I just said I think it's gross seeing your claws fully through his skull and finding two of his fingers in between our couch cushions.” Logan chuckles at this “So you don’t mind me brutalizing our friend, as long as you don't have to see it.” he puffs on his cigar. “Nope!” you pop, smiling at him “I can't believe you just called Wade your friend” Logan stops at the light and grunts out “slip of the tongue” while he looks out the window. “I don't think it was” you lightly elbow him “I already know you’re secretly a softie, I won’t tell him.” he exhales another billow of smoke, but you couldn’t help but notice the tips of his ears had turned a little red. You decide not to comment on it, smiling only to yourself. This was the Logan only you got to see. Everyone else in the whole world only knew him as angry and violent with brief moments of sincerity. He was gruff and brash and had a weird way of showing he cared. 
As much as you were his -lord knows you have the hickeys to prove it- he was yours. The Logan that learned how to cook just to make you breakfast in bed is yours. The Logan who will wear a face mask with you is yours. The Logan who uses his claws to chop vegetables is yours. The Logan who can’t sleep if you’re not in his arms, the Logan who stands between your legs while you sit on the bathroom counter to shave him, the Logan who presses kisses to your head and ties your shoes. He was a secret, locked away from the world, buried deep inside from years of putting up walls to protect himself. He only existed with you. 
What a gift. What a tragedy. What an awful thought, that he hides his kindness and vulnerability from the world. What an absolute honor it is to be the only person he trusts enough to let in. It doesn’t come easy to him, it doesn’t come naturally. He makes the conscious effort everyday to break down his own walls for you. 
Logan rarely says “I love you” ; those three words seem to choke him every time he tries to spit them out. But when he does say them, it’s always a whisper. Like if he’s quiet enough the curse that seems to snuff out everyone he loves won’t hear him, won’t find him. Like he’s worried if he says it too loud it will trigger some horrible accident that will steal you away from him, but even then he can’t help but tell you. He swallows his fear in the small hours of the night to whisper a promise to you. 
He doesn’t need to tell you. You can see it. You can feel it. 
You don’t realize you’re home until the car stops and you feel his rough fingertips on your face in a gentle touch “Where’d you go in that head of yours pretty?” he looks deeply into your eyes. “Just thinking about you.” you smile and press a kiss to his lips before opening your door and getting out. “What about me?” he locks the car and slings an arm around you as you walk towards the elevator to go back to your home. “Just how much I love you.” Logan pushes the button when he lets out a “hmm” at your answer, looking away. His ears were pink again. You tug his collar down for another kiss then whisper in his ear 
“I think we need to break in that new mattress” a/n: I hope you enjoyed! let me know if you're interested in a part three. nothing motivates me like hearing what people liked, so if you enjoyed and want more, let me know!
taglist @mistyorchid
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chiibinomonodamon · 5 months
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WHO WANTS TO HEAR ME RAMBLE ABOUT GAY FURRY DEMON SEX? XD
(damn, there's a sentence I never thought I'd say....)
Okay...so I see some Stolitz confusion and bashing online and I need to type up a defense here because I won't be able to sleep otherwise lol
I consider myself to be a Ship Critic and someone who takes shipping rather seriously.
What I mean by this is, I like to analyze and break down romantic relationships between fictional characters because it's just interesting to write for me. I especially take delight in friendly debating with opinions that I strongly do *not* agree with.
Let me start off by saying I am NOT a "this ship is awesome because gay furry sex lol" type of girl.
FAR from it. I'm generally more passionate about hetero ships between human characters (because I can relate to them more) among other reasons. So if you wanna dismiss my defense as "shallow fangirlism", you can forget about that lame excuse.
I fell in love with Hazbin Hotel when it was finally released in February and suffered waiting for each new two-parts per week. During that time, I decided to watch Helluva Boss as well, after a friend showed me a particularly soul-crushing clip (Moxxie's childhood trauma about his mother).
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Yes, I like funny sex jokes as much as the next goofy adult but scenes like this, scenes that carry a very heavy emotional weight are what really get me in the end, even moreso when VERY little dialogue is exchanged. I knew I had to watch the entire episode run after seeing that the creators had a talent for this.
I saw people asking:
"How did Stolas go from using Blitz as a sex toy to being painfully in love with him?"
Oh I can tell you. I can tell you the EXACT moment this is revealed. But it's not spoon-fed to you; it's quite subtle actually and this is why lots of people miss it.
See, one of the strongest talents Vivenne has shown me is that she REALLY knows how to get her characters to communicate their feelings to the viewers JUST from their expressions and body language. These can be 'blink-and-miss-it' teeny little scenes and it may require a couple rewatches.
But since people demand time stamps for all information others post here, I'll rewatch a few scenes from S1 E7 'Ozzie's' as I'm typing this.
'Ozzie's' remains to be not just my favorite episode of HB...but probably my favorite episode of any adult-targeted animated show outside of Japan (aside from S2 E7's Mid-Season Special)
It has this huge reveal for both Blitzo and Stolas.
We'll first address Blitzo's irrational, stalkerish behavior of Moxxie and Millie.
He's obsessed with them. He finds both of them very attractive, fantasizes about threesomes with them and is constantly inserting himself into their personal lives.
Why?
Because they have everything that he badly badly wants for himself.
They have the perfect marriage and he is trying to live THROUGH them.
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This was hilarious to me at the beginnning of the show but it's slowly revealed that it's one of the most tragic and depressing things I've ever seen. And it's scarily realistic too.
But you know this already so let's move on...
Blitzo follows the couple to Ozzie's but he can't get in without a date. So he calls up Stolas and yes, this is very low but he doesn't realize how much this means to Stolas (hell, I'm not sure even Stolas realizes it himself!) but the owl man is giddy with joy, he rushes over and they enter Ozzie's.
When Ozzie and Fizz mock Moxxie for being so sappy towards his wife, this strikes a chord with Blitzo (because they're his IDEAL relationship) and he speaks up to defend them.
NOW PAY CLOSE ATTENTION; THIS IS THE IMPORTANT PART:
Fizz, still holding onto his past grudge turns on Blitzo to humilate him:
"Some nerve you got commenting on a relationship"
Time Stamp: 11:37
As Fizz says "-ship", Blitzo VERY QUICKLY makes eye contact with Stolas who has a look of panic on his face. Blitzo is seeking VALIDATION from Stolas in this sharp, subtle second of screentime, as if to ask
"Well, ARE we in one?"
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And then what happens next...Stolas remains silent, Blitzo's ex joins in to announce how selfish Blitzo was in bed with her, tearing him down further. Stolas stands up like he's going to put a stop to it but then Ozzie notices him and interrogates him about sleeping with Blitzo.
Blitzo looks incredibly ashamed and guilty as Stolas blushes with similar feelings...and hides his face behind his menu; HIS BIGGEST MISTAKE IN THE SERIES SO FAR.
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Time Stamp: 12:24
The look on Blitzo's face as he grits his teeth and darts his eyes away basically says
"Yeah, I should have known...boy am I an idiot for trusting him to stand up for me".
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(look how SHOCKED he is...wow, this hurts fr ;_;)
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This is a silent betrayal on Stolas's part. Afterall, his reputation is on the line, so if he were to defend Blitzo, it confirms they are in fact, dating. He chose his pride over Blitzo and Blitzo is crushed by this betrayal.
Moxxie finishes his song and kisses his wife tenderly. Stolas watches this and also wants to have an affectionate moment with Blitzo (who is rightfully glaring daggers at him) and tries to reach for his hand.
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Blitzo rejects his touch and suggests they leave. As they do, Blitzo still looks furious and hurt. Stolas is now realizing how badly he screwed up with a "What have I done?" face (13:41)
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He even looks disappointed with himself.
After Blitzo drops Stolas off, he thanks him and tries to smooth over the awkwardness with sweet talk but Blitzo just rolls his eyes in disgust and pulls on his face like "I don't want to hear this bullshit".
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He responds coldly and curtly, "Yeah." Stolas makes more suggestions to spend time with him, which just makes him even angrier and he snaps
"I'm not fucking you tonight, okay!
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I'm really just..." (14:28)
he pauses to wipe a tear because at this point he can barely hold it together (top notch voice acting and animation directing btw)
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"...not in the mood, Stolas."
Stolas still tries to talk him into doing couple things unrelated to sex.
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Blitzo's face switches back to anger and frustration because Stolas isn't getting the message so he goes for the blunt tactic;
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"Stolas, don't act like what we have is anything but YOU wanting ME to fuck you, okay?"
(14:42)
"You make that really clear all the time."
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(again his voice sounds like he's about to break down)
"But I-I just can't do it tonight, okay?"
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(Finally meets his eye)
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"...I'm sorry."
I believe this is code for "I'm sorry we're even in this situation and how your reputation got damaged. " Or, more painfully, "I'm sorry I'm such an embarrassment to you".
Stolas replies "Okay" and takes a deep breath to compose himself. They say goodnight and depart.
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An important note here is that Stolas calls him "Blitzo" instead of "Blitzy" to show more respect.
As Blitzo zooms away coldly, Stolas looks up at the sky with tears in his eyes, surprised at how much it hurts.
He then sits down with his head in his hands in anguish...because he's getting that
"Oh...no. These feelings are real" epiphany.
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And as if this wasn't enough angst, Blitzo collapses onto his couch at home, goes through the memories on his phone and starts sobbing.
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I'm going to be real with you; this is the most heart-breaking shit I have ever seen in an adult show of this type. It's also the first time a show of this type got me to cry.
The last six minutes have revealed so much information without spoonfeeding it to the audience because the show RESPECTS its audience.
To recap:
*Blitzo takes Stolas on a first official date to use him
*Stolas is extremely happy about it
*Blitzo gets humilated and looks to Stolas for validation
*Stolas betrays him and breaks his heart
*Blitzo snaps that their relationship is nothing more than lust-driven sex
*Stolas realizes he's actually in love with Blitzo and it's a huge problem because (he believes) that it's unrequited.
*Blitzo breaks down because the ONE person whom he thought would protect him didn't do so.
So these two are convinced that neither one loves the other...while the irony is, it's quite the opposite.
Because if Blitzo REALLY didn't feel anything towards Stolas, he would not have gotten this emotional.
Yes, they are both lonely...but I really don't think that's all there is between them.
So..........we know WHEN they started falling...now the question is why;
I think the answer's quite simple; single-target affection.
It was mentioned in S2 that Stolas and Stella did sleep together ONE TIME...but Stolas didn't enjoy it at all. He is stuck with a wife who hates him so much that she put a HIT on him...and a daughter who thinks he's a loser. Blitzo is pretty much the one person in his life who is able to make him happy. That one small, bright spot. He enjoys the sex with him but he also simply enjoys his company, as shown in Ozzie's episode. He is thrilled to simply talk to him about his day...and do anything else that couples do. They're complete opposites. Stolas is an intellectual but naive and sheltered. Blitzo is poorly educated but cynical and street-smart. Opposites attract...though this is likely more from Stolas's POV than Blitzo's.
In other words, Stolas is into bad boys xD lmao
In Blitzo's case, Stolas is the only character who shows him physical affection which he desperately craves. He's pretty tsundere about it most of the time...but I think he actually does enjoy that attention...especially when he's always getting disrespected by Moxxie and Loona..and quite a lot of people around him. BUT he's too scared to get serious with anyone because of past trauma and he also believes that no one could possibly love him as a person. :(
Reasons I Think This Love is Real
Aside from what I pointed out in the Ozzie's episode...there's quite a lot of evidence, esp from Stolas's POV.
After he realizes he's in love, he goes to Asomodeous for an ALTERNATIVE method for Blitzo to use so they will no longer sleep together. He wants to set Blitzo free. Which means he DOES truly love him because love is about being generous to the other person. He COULD be totally selfish about it but he isn't.
Asomodeous mentions how against love potions he is and Stolas agrees. He thinks that's out of the question.
'Look My Way' music video. Lol I don't have to say anything more.
In S2 E6 OOPS
This exchange at 16:57
Fizz: Seems your taste has gotten more 'regal', lately?
Blitz: Yeah, well unlike you, I fuck who I want WHEN I want. I'm not gonna be tied down to some big blue-blood asshole.
Fizz: You coulda fooled me the way Prince was cozying up to you at Ozzie's.
Blitz (gets very defensive) HEY! Stolas only cares about have a rugged peasant raw-dog him into his mattress, okay!
It's nothing...(gets hesistant and looks away)...you know...
(Fizz gives him a 'bitch please' look xD)
"it's nothing else."
Fizz: Then why were you even there?
Blitz: OTHER very important reasons of course.
Fizz: Whatever. I don't actually care.
Blitz: Stolas is just a loud, thirsty BITCH!
(Fizz is rolling his eyes again)
Blitz: He loves feeling the thrill of getting dicked by the lower class.
It's a novelty to him.
Fizz: LITERALLY just said I don't care!
Blitz: And then he'll call me and try to see how my day was!
And he'll pretend to care about me and comment on my photos laugh at my jokes...
Fizz: (Smirking) OH! That's definitely your clue right there that it's all bullshit!
Blitz: I KNOW, RIGHT??
Fizz: (Making a 'What in idiot' expression, shaking his head)
Blitz: HE'S JUST A FAKE, PRIVELEDGED ASSHOLE...
Fizz: Sounds like you just hate him for being a prince!
No one (laughs) and I mean NO ONE pretends to care that much just for a cheap lay.
All right. IF ANYONE knows what real love is like, it's Fizzaroli...who is in a very HEALTHY relationship with Asomodeous. He recognizes the signs because he's IN that place. He sees it...and he's annoyed that Blitzo keeps denying it and brushing it off...yet clearly can NOT stop talking about Stolas (amusing irony)
To sum up (this freaking essay lol) 'Stolitz' ABSOLUTELY has the potential to be pure and true...these two just need to communicate...or Stolas has to PROVE to Blitzo that he's serious about his feelings in another way.
There is no doubt that this ship is 100% endgame and is a case of the 'Earn Your Happy Ending' Trope. I look forward to the rest of the journey. Ron is putting my feelings about Stolitz in a perfect phrase:
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themochiverse · 9 months
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The Monster Under the Bed | KNJ
➳ Pairing: yan!nightmare!demon!nj x fem!reader
➳ Genre: Yandere, Horror, Monster Au
➳ Warnings: Swearing, consumption of alcohol, mentions of tera-phphobia (fear of monsters), childhood abuse and trauma, mention of an alcoholic parent, gore, violence, blood, injuries, asphyxiation, gagging, NON-CON kissing and touching (not sexually), Namjoon degrades the reader a bit, supernatural torment, physical harm to the reader, the reader goes a bit crazy, mentions of soul-eating?…. Anyways
➳ Synopsis: When a human falls asleep they face two realms: the dream and nightmare world— where one is controlled by the angels to kiss you goodnight, and the other controlled by unknown creatures that push behind your darkest fears. So when your constant fear of monsters hiding under your bed continues to grow in your life, one peculiar nightmarish friend becomes infatuated to keep it that way.
➳ Word Count: 6.7k+
➳ Disclaimer: This fanfic is purely from my imagination, I do not intend to harm any Idol or person in any way. Nor sexualising them. Please do not steal any ideas from here, this is all of my work and original work. I DO NOT CONDONE THIS BEHAVIOUR.
The Monster Under the Bed ©Copyright -2024- themochiverse - All Rights Reserved
No part of the story can be copied, reproduced, redistributed or transformed into any other form. Meaning no photocopying, recording whether written or electrically. No methods are allowed that uses anything from this fic. This follows in the permitted Copyright Law. All images and/or gifs go to their rightful owners.
A/N: Fuck my lazy ass, I got it done, and I hope the story is good! I wasn’t bothered to add a banner cuz I was too excited to post, I’ll add one later one. Anyways, enjoy!
Taglist; @minshookie29 @6tslovr @proflyndo @pinkcherrybombs @papijiminfeed @justanotherstarlightmonger @kittykatfey @princess-sunshyn @jinniesjoon94 @trashlord-007
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You're asleep.
Head tucked in gently in the crevice of your elbow, the soft quilt tangled by your ankles as you parted your dry lips open, swallowing the icy air. After a long day of work exhaustion crept up on you, and once your head hit the pillow— like a spell chanted on you, you fell asleep. Subtle chirps could be heard from outside your fogged-up window but you wouldn't notice it anyway. As your body was at rest, your mind was yoked within a dream.
The breeze howled in your ear and your legs dangling from the old wooden bridge you sat on. The moon hid behind the thick clouds, ultimately bringing darkness to surround you. The field behind you swayed in the wind, and the tall grass whispered as they shook together.
Snap
Your head spun around to the impulsive noise, and your heart dropped. From a good distance stood an old man. He was decorated with long boots and a hat that covered his face. Your eyes followed his arm, it was clenched on an object so tightly that you recognised it within a second. It was a liquor bottle.
You knew him, you knew who he was.
“Y/N,” his voice dropped and trembled, “have you seen daddy’s new bottle?”
He stomped his foot, walking over to you with rage building up inside him. Instinctively, you got up and ran straight to the empty field, your bare feet facing any prick that came along the way. You could hear his footsteps getting closer but you won’t turn your head. You will never turn your head to see him.
But you stopped in your tracks as the sight of the old man appeared in front of you again. He raised his bottle high in the air, and you cowered in fear, covering your face as he was about to strike. You shrieked waiting for the impact, but it never came. Instead, your mind felt dizzy when your eyes opened to the familiar surroundings.
Old drawings of animals were stuck on the wall, the vanity mirror was disguised with dust and there were the broken scars on a cupboard next to your old bed.
Your childhood room.
With haste, you trudged to the door to leave but it creaked shut, and darkness clouded your sight. Your hands fiddled with a butterfly lamp that was on the bedside table, and your fingers wriggled to find the switch.
The insects cried, the wind roared and something whispered. You froze at that, and your eyes followed the gap under the bed. You gulped, clenching your fist as your nails dug deep into your skin.
Nothing is there Y/N, nothing is there—
“Are you sure?” A hoarse voice rumbled and you flinched. Your heart pounded as you felt your body giving up on you. Your legs shook and they dropped to the floor as you felt yourself being dragged to the dreaded place that has practically haunted you for your whole life.
“No…” you mumbled, “Please no!”
Red eyes blinked at you, and they glinted in mischief. A snarl vibrates and a long black hand appears—claws lingering within the air before it grasps your chin, bringing your face closer to him.
“Aren't you a pretty little thing?”
You couldn't see the creature that spoke to you but you shivered at its touch. The energy was drained from your body and your mind went fuzzy. This creature’s touch left a numb feeling in your head. Void. Alone. But alone with him. Your eyes could only witness the darkness within and your hands weakly clutched onto the dirty bedsheets as you felt this creature pull you closer.
“Still scared? Didn't Daddy teach you enough to not be afraid of monsters?” The voice left hot words in your ear and your neck stiffened at the comment. How the fuck does it know?
With little courage, you spoke.
“What do you want from me?”
A deep chuckle erupted in the room, and the grip on your chin loosened a bit.
“My, my, this is the first question you wanted to ask me? Very well, I’ll answer honestly for you,” his other hand came to caress your cheek, “You see, I'm very picky when it comes to what type of humans I want to devour. There's just something in your soul that's very precious to me, and it would be very precious to any other creature too—“
Your hands grabbed onto the cold claws that held your face, and you tried to get out of his hold. Your breathing quickened. What did he just say? Devouring humans? You struggled futilely in his hold, your clammy palms soon gave up. The grip on your chin tensed this time, and they hushed you with ease.
“Shh, my darling. Let me continue before I let you go,” the creature hummed before proceeding, “In other words, I want you and your soul. I want to be with you forever.”
Your eyes widened at those proclamations and the claw that was settled against your cheek crawled up to your forehead.
“Now wake.”
You gasped as you jolted in your bed. Sweat stuck to the back of your shirt, your body was burning and you felt suffocated. It was just a nightmare Y/N, just a fucking nightmare. You slid off your bed and a fluffy brown tail tickled your legs. Your body hunched as you stared at your adorable cat.
“Morning Max, you need some breakfast?” The cat blinked its eyes slowly before calling out to you as it walked out of your room. You sighed, stretching as you went after your pet into the kitchen. The sun was covered by clouds and the day groaned dimly.
Max purred as you grabbed the packet of food and began to pour it into his favourite bowl. His head dived in, and tiny crunches escaped from his small mouth. You squeezed the packet in your hand, the slippery texture on your palms was still there. You tapped your foot impatiently as the remembrance of the sudden nightmare continued to dawn on you.
This didn't feel right, the nightmare felt way too realistic. And how would a monster know about your past? Maybe it was understandable, you had a traumatic childhood and your combined phobia was already monstrous. It was unsettling though, the way it grabbed your face and talked to you. Especially how you immediately felt weak by its presence..anyone would get chills from it.
Ding.
A chime vibrated from your phone as you checked it.
Rosewood Clinic: Scheduled Appointment at 9:45 am with Doctor Link. Please arrive 20 minutes earlier. If you wish to cancel or reschedule please call us at xxx-xxx-xx
Right, the appointment. You completely forgot about it, and now you have more to discuss with your doctor.
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Didn't Daddy teach you enough to not be afraid of monsters?
“Daddy, can we please go to the fair today? Please?” You pouted at your father, begging him to go to the country fair.
“Alright, we’ll go. Call your mama for me?” He asked and you smiled happily as you went to get your mum.
“Mama! Mama! Guess what? Daddy said we’re going to the fair today.” You exclaimed proudly, giggling when your mother picked you up in her arms. Her hair shone in the sunlight, and she kissed your cheek softly.
“That’s great news sweetie, come on your father must be waiting.”
Your family arrived at the fair, and loud country music rang in your ears. There were multiple rides and food stalls, vibrant colours and the laughter of children brought merriment. The scent of fresh food and screams echoed in the background as you had the opportunity to roam free.
“Y/N, come here. Daddy here is gonna win a prize for you,” your father gleefully said before he resumed the challenge he had to face. You watched with big eyes as your father held small darts, his arm flexed before he threw them.
Pop
Pop
Pop
The small balloons popped and a medium teddy bear is given to your dad.
“Here ya go princess.” With a chaste kiss to your cheek you laugh, holding tight onto the teddy bear. The fun day went by fast, your father had you in his arms and you rested your head on his shoulder. The noises from the fair soon disappeared as your family inched closer to the parking lot.
“Hey there partner, it's been a while, hasn't it?”
A gruff voice spoke out from the shadows and your dad halted in his tracks. The streetlight dimmed the place an ugly yellow. You felt two arms pull you away from your dad’s grasp and you were with your mother now.
“What the hell do you want Rodrick?”
“Have you forgotten to pay your debt? Did ya get too carried away with our money?” The man named Rodrick gestured towards you and your mum, and his eyes travelled to the fair.
“Leave them out of this.”
“Give me the fucking money, I know you have it.”
“I don't have it—”
“Give me the fucking money or I’ll shoot them!”
Rodrick pulled out a gun, pointing it straight at you both. Your mother hugged you, turning your head to the side as goosebumps drove all over her.
“Hey…hey, lets talk about this okay? This is between you and me, leave my family alone,” your dad said calmly as he eyed the gun, “put the gun down Rodrick—”
“No! Do you know the shit I had to go through because of you? They beat me up and killed my brother, you think that ain't enough till they come for me? I need the money now, give me the money.”
Your dad took a step forward, his hands were in the air as he inched closer to Rodrick.
“The fuck you doing man? I said give me the money!” The gun swung to your father as he was close to grasping the object.
“Don’t come closer or I’ll shoot.” Rodrick’s hand shook and his lips trembled. He was going to die soon, he needed the money desperately.
You peeked your head to the side and saw your father lunge at the man as they both fell to the ground. They wrestle on the ground, your father trying to get the gun off of Rodrick.
“Get to the car!” Your father yelled and your mother ran with you. The sight of your father fighting gets smaller and smaller as you're close to approaching the car.
Bang
A gasp echoed in the background, like a silent serpent ready to strike before falling to its own downfall. Crows cawed and the birds flew away from nearby trees. Like a tower descending, your mother fell on top of you.
“Y/N? Y/N?”
Your head shook off the thoughts as you stared at your doctor. You had zoned out before you had realised it, and with a fake smile, you responded.
“Sorry, I—”
“It’s alright Y/N, sometimes we remember the things we don't want to see. Tell me how your week has been.”
A clock ticked in the room and you stared at the pale woman. Her black hair almost went grey as she tried to keep a straight posture.
“Um, nothing much. Just work keeping me busy, and I've been getting a couple of nightmares lately.”
The scritching of paper caught your ears as you watched Doctor Link write down the things you mentioned.
“Nightmares, I see. I assume it's still because of your father or?” A long pause was held in the air before you replied.
“Still because of my dad, which I don't know why because I stopped having them a while ago, so I thought it would stop.”
“Okay, we've discussed this before Y/N, due to the abuse and trauma you faced at a young age, the memories we've collected can sometimes—”
“Monsters too. My phobia of monsters made it worse.”
“Okay, tell me about the nightmare then.”
You squeezed your hands together, the sweat starting to form again.
“…and then I was back at that place, and there was this whispering coming from my bed. For some reason, my body just dropped and this claw grabbed onto my face. It spoke to me, saying that it wants to be with me forever..”
Scratch
Scratch
A loud sigh poured out from the doctor’s mouth, “Y/N, the phobia you have is because it was transformed by your dad. Ultimately as this is a nightmare, the things you say about this monster, are not real. It isn't real, and it’s not going to harm you. I can guarantee you that.”
You rubbed your palms together, the voice inside you wanting to rip you apart for not speaking up.
It felt real, too real.
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You’re back home, frustration building up inside you. Maybe the doctor was right, it was just a nightmare. With past events and your stupid phobia, it just made you a mess. You wondered what the monster looked like, all you could see was a black void and long black hands. But you should be glad you didn’t see its face, after all, only the devil disguises its impurity.
Max is asleep on the couch, the fluff ball in a vulnerable position. You grinned at the sight of him, taking a photo. The house felt quiet since you lived alone, and that nightmare, gosh that fucking nightmare keeps haunting you like a freak.
You decided to enter your bedroom, eyes automatically clinging to the gap underneath the wooden exterior. It’s fucking childish, why would you be scared of something like a ridiculous monster?
They’re not real, they’re not supposed to be real. Your stomach churned uncomfortably as you knelt, crouching and angling your head to the side to get a better glimpse of the number of things you put in there.
Just enough to block the gap, just enough to make you feel safe. It was like a shield to protect you, but little did you know that shield would come crumbling down because of you.
There were a couple of old boxes, empty perhaps, and decorative pieces to make it look messy. You kept staring at the very back endlessly, your room was dark, with the curtains drawn— you made a mistake.
Your breath hitched, fingers gripping onto your carpet thread as you swear you saw something blink at you. The house is dead, and the longer you stare at the dark end, the more you see the eyes. Though, they weren’t red this time but a dull white. Almost grey, but it blinked.
“Y/N…”
No… not now. What you heard can’t be real.
“Get the fuck out of my head,” you mumbled to yourself. A sudden urge grew deep within you, you needed something.
Wine
You needed some wine.
You jumped out of that position, drawing the curtains open to bring some light into the room. You gnawed on your thumbnail as you practically ran out of the room. You could hear your heart racing, the blood pumping faster and faster as you opened the wine cabinet.
Unscrewing the bottle, you poured a full glass, swallowing a tremendous amount of the crimson liquid as it trickled down your chin.
You sunk to the floor as you hugged your knees, your back rested against the cabinet. Fucking phobia, what Doctor Link had mentioned…. Was it true? Did this phobia happen because of your dad, or were you always just a fucking coward?
The grip on your wine glass tightened as you shut your eyes, hellish memories enveloping you like a greedy pig.
“This is all because of you!”
Slap
“Your Mother is dead because of you!”
Slap
“Get the fuck out of my sight, you keep reminding me of her. Get out before I fucking kill you.”
A bottle is thrown in your direction, and the glass stabbed into your skin makes you wobble. You felt numb, your body was bruised and battered at this point, and the blood that trickled from your forehead was damping your broken soul. When you fell with a thud, your father left, banging the doors shut.
Ironically unlike your mother, your father left you instead of running to you. Maybe there was no purpose to live anymore, you had no meaning, no goal or desire.
You should have died instead of your mother that night if you ever knew this would be the conclusion. Warm tears trailed down your face, they mixed with the blood as you stared at the ceiling.
It felt like staring at your mother, the same cold expression on her face as those tears continuously fell from her eyes before her final wheezes ceased.
Your father’s yell echoed in the background as your delicate hands cradled your mother’s soft cheeks. Except this time, there was no one to do that for you.
Your vision blurred, hoping that you would see your mother right now. It didn't matter if she appeared like a ghost, even if it sounded ridiculous.
Maybe she hated you for not taking her place. You're eyes scanned to a clock that ticked silently, and it was midnight. How much longer could you bear this?
You wanted to finally leave this hellhole. But you winced in pain, and the sound of the front doors opening made you freeze. Loud footsteps came closer as you saw your father’s dishevelled appearance.
“You’re still here?” He grunted as he plopped another box of vodka bottles onto a large table.
It was quick and painful as you felt your hair tugged upwards. Your hands weakly slapped your father’s rough wrists as he dragged you to your room upstairs.
“No, Daddy, please… I'm sorry.” Your eyes widened as he pushed you into your room, locking the doors shut. It was utterly dark, all the lights in your room were either torn apart by your father or destroyed by him.
You slid onto your bed, shielding yourself with the dirty covers as you shook. You always heard a voice whenever this happened, and one night you saw the thing that spoke to you.
It looked like a human and you caught the slightest glimpse of it before hell broke loose. Their skin glowed, and a white t-shirt was worn as they walked across your room. You remembered what he wore so well, yet you didn't remember him.
Your eyes opened as your butt began to feel sore. The glass was empty and only the stains of the red wine remained. Your body felt drained, the memories collapsed on you and you struggled to get up.
You trudged to your room quietly, closing the door shut as you crawled into your bed. Like a train coming to its last destination, your memories do the same, you don’t remember what happened after you were locked in your room.
It wasn't too long before you went back again to the realms, too bad they were interconnected.
When you trembled in your bed that night, the blood soaking the pillow, Namjoon grinned. Not because of what terrible consequence you had faced, but because he finally found a perfect person like you.
He spent years devouring the souls of many individuals but neither ever satisfied his hunger at all. He could keep as many humans as he would like, and he had the choice to not kill them. If he had you, he didn't need to waste more years to find another suitable victim.
He didn't know how he was entranced by you at first, maybe it was the way you'd brush your hair or how you tried to smile after suffering from your injuries. But you caught his eye, his heart would race whenever he saw you.
But rage took over him whenever he saw your father beat you, even though he had the power to do something, he already sensed that your father was going to be dead soon anyway.
He was really hungry that night, starving himself on purpose just so he could get a taste of your sweet soul, consume the euphoric feeling of your fear so he felt energised enough to convince you to stay with him.
But would you?
He didn’t mean to go overboard, he just really needed to have a bit of your soul. It wasn’t going to harm you any way and he wasn’t doing anything wrong, he needs to live too.
The sudden harsh whispers and calls of your name made you shiver and Namjoon watched in delight. He needed to transform and watch your beautiful expressions fall into place.
Oh, it was terrible, terribly good.
“Sweetie….my baby, Y/N?” You stiffened at the familiar feminine voice that came from underneath your bed. It couldn't be true, your mother was dead. But… did she listen to your prayers to God?
Hesitantly you replied, “Mama? Is that you?” Your voice shook as you waited for a response.
“My darling, why didn't you save me? Look at how miserable your father is.” Her voice wavered in the air and you swore you could feel her presence right beside you. Her words scarred into your mind, this didn’t sound like her at all.
Without hesitation, you pulled the covers off of you in a rush, and your heart dropped at the sight of darkness in front of you. Your mother was not here, then how the hell did you hear her voice?
“Y/N…?” You froze and your breaths started to become quick. You glanced down from the side of your bed, the voice was coming from there. Your knuckles were tense and white when you gripped your blanket, there’s no fucking way.
Silence clouded your sense of hearing as a long black claw stretched out from underneath the bed, its nails scratched the wooden floor before it rushed back.
Your breath hitched as you felt a cold exhale next to your ear. You bit your bottom lip harshly, chewing on the spot as you craned your neck slowly. Your pulse quickened when you saw the figure.
Their eyes glimmered in the dark and you gasped, an audible yell for help prepared to leave from your throat.
But he lunged at you, one inhuman hand pinning your wrists tightly above your head while the other was clamped over your mouth.
Your screams were muffled by his long black claws as you writhed underneath him. His demonic form took over, and red eyes blinked into yours as he watched your head snap upwards. His red eyes stared at you with adoration, God you were so cute. He shushed you softly as he wiped your tears.
“If I let go, promise you won't scream?”
You calmed yourself down a bit as he removed his hand away from your mouth. He delicately traced your quivering lips, grinning at the sight of your compliance.
“I know you're scared sweetheart, but you need to be a good girl for me, yeah? I've been watching over you for a while now, and you're such a good person. But you need someone, a bit of healing and protection to make you feel less lonely. I've come to offer that, I'll heal you and protect you in exchange for a bit of your soul.”
This thing had been watching you? For how long?
The grip on your wrists loosened momentarily as he leaned closer to you. Your eyes scanned its features—if you removed the black claws and the red eyes, it almost looked human.
“But the thing is, you have no say in this anyway. I nearly killed myself because of you, starving to death to finally have you. Don't you feel guilty? Making a poor monster like me wait for a long time to taste your soul?”
Namjoon wanted you to feel bad, and miserable for him. He chuckled softly, you were a monster too for making him suffer like that.
You felt your body sink into the mattress further, wrists weakly wriggling in his iron-grip hold.
“I just need you to listen to me, and everything will be okay.”
He grabbed your cheeks, squeezing them harshly so you could open your lips.
“Come on baby, open wide for me,” he murmured and he pushed one claw deep inside your open mouth.
You gagged repeatedly as you felt it go down your throat, and your mind fogged with pain. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, your lungs restricting any oxygen to escape. It hurt for a split second like something was being removed from your body entirely. It was solid and rough with jagged edges, your throat started to burn as panic settled in.
You couldn’t breathe.
You watched the thing turn more demonic, and it hovered over you as you helplessly felt too tired and weak to even do anything at this point. Your eyes blurred as you felt suffocated, and your heart pumped wildly.
Your mouth was wide open as you exhaled a heavy breath and a clear cloud-like bubble came out. The claw was soon withdrawn and you gasped for air.
You thought it was over, heck no, you thought it was fake. But he was still here, right in front of you. Black hair covered its demonic look as it devoured the bubble in one go.
You froze in fear, tears falling from your face as it looked at you.
“Such a sweet soul,” he murmured before lowering his face, “would you mind if I had more?”
Before you could even protest or utter a scream, you felt his dangerous hands crawl up your thigh, his sharp claws piercing through your skin lightly. It burned with every stroke, and you whimpered. His touch was numbing your mind, but you could still feel the pain ripping through you.
“Shh, be a good girl for me,” his hand wrapped around your throat, “and don’t fucking scream.”
You felt his cold lips on yours, his claws continued with their marks as they neared your chest. You realised too late that not only was your mind numb, but your body was paralysed. You couldn’t fight him, you couldn’t do anything to escape from this hell.
Your fingertips twitched when he shoved his tongue inside your mouth, and his claws finally reached the centre of your stomach.
At first, it was like multiple thumbtacks were piercing your body that soon felt like large knives sinking inside of you. Your eyes widened when you saw his sharp claws press into your stomach, the blood escaping as almost half of his hand was inside. You felt your insides twisting as a muffled, hoarse scream erupted from your mouth and Namjoon swallowed it all, pressing even deeper.
He was sucking the life out of you, his claws finally grasping onto a bit of your soul. His kiss was a form of intimacy, but it was much easier to consume your fear like this.
Mind numb, body paralysed, all under his control as he shamelessly sucked more of your already broken soul. It almost felt like you were dying. Once he removed his bloody claws, your teary-eyed expression remained as he finally removed himself from you.
“Sweet dreams, my love.”
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The soft breeze cooled your body as you sat on a rock, watching the waves crash into the shorelines. It felt peaceful, magical almost. The high view of the far distance between the sea, and the cliff was pretty high too.
He could sense you. He could feel the happiness radiating from you once he stepped into the dream realm. Namjoon successfully got to get rid of the angels that were guarding the entrance of their world.
He must admit that the bright colours of this place were oddly fascinating. Light pink hues dusted with white clouds and scenery? Wow, it was nothing compared to the nightmare world. Nothing.
Namjoon’s land was far more different and special. It was like an abandoned location with monsters lurking around in the shadows. Thunderstorms were constant and daily, the sky as grey as a rock.
Ever since the Lord of Demons was able to break the barrier between the two realms, it has made easier access for any creature to be able to snatch their victims while they were dreaming.
They were ruthless, and greedy and had unimaginable appearances that would make your heart stop. Even if there were Guardian Angels, protecting their realm— demons like Namjoon were always able to come through discretely.
He wondered if he were able to glitch into your world so that he could easily have you to himself. Those sleep paralysis demons were extremely lucky.
He reminisces about the first time he got to taste your soul. You wouldn't understand the emotions that rushed through his body, he felt so high around you that the moment he stepped away after decorating your body crimson—he could only think about you.
With the recent interaction of finally getting to you after a narrow escape from the Guardian Angels, Namjoon felt relieved.
It almost broke his heart when you tried to escape from his grasp that day, his claws menacingly trying to provoke a reaction out of you.
He thought you would have recalled instantly ever since the first night he devoured a bit of your soul and left you with deep gushed marks of his claim on you. He didn't want to show himself deliberately because he thought you would know. That you would recognise him.
Maybe your father hit your head a bit too hard with the metal bat in the barn after he saw the medical bills.
The next day he watched alongside you. He watched the way your father hung from a big tree, the noose around his neck was stout and it was perfectly wrapped around his neck like a present.
Namjoon noticed the dead look in your eyes and a deranged smile crept up on your face.
You and he were a match made in heaven.
Namjoon could see you from afar, the way your body relaxed in this realm… if you could only do the same in his one. He quietly approached you, silently sitting next to you as his fingertips brushed your hand.
You flinched at the subtle contact and you snapped your head, eyes scanning the unknown person.
He looked familiar, with black hair and a white shirt, you swear you've seen someone like that before.
“Who are you?” You stared at the gorgeous man in front of you, his dragon eyes alluring you.
“We met before.” His voice drifted silkily into your ears.
“We did? Uhm, what's your name?” You responded as you thought hard about where you last saw him.
“I'm Namjoon, and you're Y/N.” A pang hit your stomach, how did he know your name?
“How do you know my name?”
“Like I said, we met before.” His voice almost felt recognisable, did you actually meet this man before?
Namjoon sighed, his hand brushing your hair out of your face. “It’s such a shame you don't remember me, do I really have to remind you?”
Your lips almost twitched into a frown, you didn't like the way he was staring at you.
“Listen—”
“Didn’t Daddy teach you enough to not be afraid of monsters?”
Your eyes widened and your breath shook, “what did you just say?”
“I said didn't Daddy teach you enough to not be afraid of monsters?” Namjoon repeated the words deliberately and slowly as he smiled. Your mind went into a frenzy, and your pulse quickened. It was him, the creature that constantly grew your fear.
You get up quickly, and he does too, the next words making you sick in the stomach.
“Were the claws too much? You know I was sorry, I would never hurt you love, it's part of the process for me to live for your soul.”
You began to walk backwards, his words hammering you like a nail. After all these years, the monster that tormented you so badly that your phobia was initially created was here, right in front of you. You finally saw his face. Innocent like an angel, but a devil within the heart.
“Do you remember now? Do you remember the way I had your soul? Shit, your dad knocked you out so hard that after this many years, you finally remember me.”
You stopped in your tracks, your head turning to the side when you realised you were on the edge of a cliff. Out of nowhere, grabbing onto your shoulders, Namjoon’s voice echoed and rang in your ears.
“Don’t leave me, you can’t forget about me again.”
“I won’t leave you alone like your father did, isn’t it good riddance that he killed himself?” There’s no way he’s been with you this whole time.
He pushed you back gently, each wavering step making you sick in the stomach.
“I want to stay with you forever,” he rested his head on your shoulder and you flinched, “you're a precious person to me, you make me feel better that I can have you, in any way I want.” You jerked, trying to elude from his iron-tight grip.
“I love you Y/N, I'm hopelessly in love with you.”
His words come crashing down as you lose your step right at the end of the cliff. You screamed as you felt a hand snatch your wrist. You gripped onto Namjoon’s wrist, your life depending on it. You weren't sure why he wasn't pulling you up—
He chuckled deeply, “Stupid girl, did you forget that you're in a dream? If I let go of you right now, do you think you're going to wake up or drown?” He cruelly stared down at you as he held your wrist.
He kneeled so you were face to face, “But I think it'd be much better if we fell together, don't you think?”
Your eyes broadened at the statement, blood rushing to your head. You shook your head, you pleaded at him,
“Namjoon, wait don't do this—”
Ignoring your words, you felt him let go of you as he jumped off the cliff. You watched him fall as your back hit the icy ocean, the water already trying to engulf your throat.
You jolted awake, shuddering from the nightmare you had just faced. Your back was wet with sweat, and as you were sitting up…
Thud.
Someone grabbed your neck from behind, feeling invisible hands wrapped around your throat. Your head hit the pillow again as you struggled to get up. He was holding you down, there's no way he came like this without a dream.
You claw at your neck, shutting your eyes when you suddenly see yourself back in the ocean. You could feel the water getting into your lungs, and someone had gripped your ankle. You saw Namjoon pulling you deeper and deeper into the abyss as you cried for help, words muffled by the water.
You opened your eyes and they started to blur. Panic grew as your heart pumped, feeling the dreaded emotion you never wanted to experience again. You couldn't breathe, it was like your oxygen was being sucked away.
You wriggled your body to grab anything and your hands stretched to whatever was on the nightstand. You couldn't see but your hands tapped on the lamp that was facing your way, and a ray of light burst.
Within a second, the feeling of invisible hands disappeared and you rolled over, choking as you threw up… water. Lots of water.
You groaned weakly as you heaved your breaths. The door to your bedroom was wide open and the hallway was extremely dark. You needed to get out. You shakily looked through the drawers and found a small torch. Turning it on you left your room to look for your cat, calling his name.
“Max! Max, where are you—”
You came to a halt, and your knees almost buckled.
“Isn’t he adorable?” His voice made your bottom lip quiver. You shook your head, tears rushing to your eyes. You couldn't believe this, there he was, sitting on your couch next to your cat. Namjoon turned to look at you and his eyes were black, a murderous intent glinted from the look on his face.
“You can't run away from me, ever.”
In the blink of an eye, he’s gone and silence filled up the whole house. Max then hissed as his eyes darted behind your shoulder. Your heart sank when you realised who he was hissing at.
An external force threw you back to your room, causing you to shriek. Your back hit the wall, knocking the breath out of you. The door slammed shut and you staggered in pain and your eyes flickered to the lamp. A hushed whisper attained your ear as you heard a crack and the light died out.
It was too dark in your room, and you luckily had the torch in your hand. You tried to open the door but it wouldn't budge. What about the windows? You rush over to the other side of the room, and your hands draw the curtain open only to come to a sight with no window. You almost drop your torch as you bite your lip.
It was just a solid wall.
“No—fuck, why—” Your voice croaked as you slammed your fist against the wall. Soon you realised why the house was so dark and why the lamp broke. Does he hate light? The thought lingered on your mind till you heard a shuffle from across the room. You swayed your torch to the side and held your breath as there was nothing there.
A low growl could be heard from under the bed as you shone the light there. All of the things you placed to block the gap were gone. Impossible, fuck your mind was going crazy. The light on your torch began to blink repeatedly, and you smacked the torch a couple of times.
“No, no no, don't die.” You breathed a sigh of relief as you managed to keep the light until it flickered one last time. Your breath affixed as there was complete darkness, and you gulped.
Screech.
Warm tears sprang free from the corner of your eyes and you quivered in place.
He was going to get you, he was going to get you, he was going to get you.
Maybe you should check the door again, just in case. Even before you could react, Namjoon’s lengthy, black claw snatched onto your ankle, yanking you in fast.
Your screams echoed as you disappeared the moment you were dragged underneath the bed. Your eyes opened to an unknown place, but it was still dark. Your body ached with every movement you tried to muster.
Namjoon appeared in front of you, his demeanour frightening you as he used his claws to turn your head to the side. A dim yellow light glinted in the dark ahead of you and you couldn't believe what you were witnessing.
“Daddy?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Did you check the bed? I think I saw a boy my age last night.”
A small laugh vibrated from your father’s throat as he crouched down at your request. He got back up, caressing your cheek.
“Come on sweetie, didn't Daddy teach you enough to not be afraid of monsters?”
Click.
The lights turned off and the door closed shut. It was dark again.
Namjoon shifted around as you felt him lay down next to you, wrapping one arm around your waist tightly and the other still holding your face in place. He could feel your heart pounding furiously as his claw began to recreate the same process when he had you for the first time.
Your mind started to go fuzzy and your body went numb and his claw crawled closer to your mouth.
Namjoon whispered into your ear, and his heart grew at the sight of finally having you to himself, “You know, you shouldn’t fear the monsters that are under your bed, you should fear those that hide under your pillow and crawl into your head.”
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angstydisaster02 · 5 months
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An analysis about why Bakudeku is one of the most inspirational relationships. (Manga spoilers)
First part : my thoughts
Tbh, I really have this impression the manga is coming to an end very soon, which breaks my heart because I don’t know what I’ll do without my daily leaks. However, I trust Horikoshi about the rest of the story and I do think he’ll make an open ending about which “ship” is canon, even if we all know that the biggest and most developed relationship in the manga is bkdk.
It would be interesting to see the “after” of this war, the hospital beds, the tears because they lost people, the relief because it’s over and the final conversation beg the ending. Knowing Horikoshi until now, never made things randomly because everyone is thinking in advance, including the conversation between Izuku Midoriya and Katsuki Bakugo.
You can’t tell me the author of this manga who always did things with a smart brain will put aside such an important detail about the dynamic between his characters.
A part of me hopes we’ll have the bkdk talk at the hospital or somewhere else because there’s no way these two idiots keep living their lives as if nothing happened. I have high expectations due to the fanfics, but I’m pretty sure I’ll never be the same once the chapter with the bkdk talk comes.
Second part : the analysis feat manga panels
looking forward, it’s incredible how Izuku Midoriya and Katsuki’s relationship started in the worst way (I’m not including the childhood memories) and…Ended up being something like that.
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I’m emotional when I think about everything they’ve been through, the many realizations about losing each other, the development of their relationship after an emotional scene such as Deku Vs Kacchan 2, the way they need to push each other’s up to be the best version of themselves in any situation.
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It’s not a surprise if these two are mean to be canon (in a platonic or romantic to way, depends about your opinion !) and each little moment highlights this statement.
Think about it : they all learned one of few important things with the other’s presence by their side, on purpose or not. Their dynamic is something unique you can’t find in others shonen or mangas, because they have this specific bond, the one getting stronger though the years because their mistakes became a reason to improve and be a better person for this childhood friend they knew since the early days.
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Izuku Midoriya needs Katsuki Bakugo like Katsuki Bakugo needs Izuku Midoriya.
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You can’t take away this part of their soul, and even when people like AFO tried, they ended up paying the price by revealing how much they care about each other.
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Don’t startd with the Heroees rising thing because I can write an entire novel about them, but this is another proof of how they’re made for each other. Their relationship improve though the years and it’s only the beginning, I can’t help but imagine how future bkdk will have an amazing relationship once they figured out everything and untold truths.
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They’re each other’s pillars, holding the other up to do the best and watch from afar their other’s improvement.
That’s why the hospital conversation might be the peak of their relationship: the moment when they’ll both break their shield, welcoming the tears and listening how life is a fragile line on a thread.
None of them refuse to break this meaningful thread, because this is something they’ve built for years, and it’s their biggest strength (and biggest weakness like Shigaraki pulled out)
In conclusion: they’re driving me crazy and I have no regrets following their journey because it’s probably one of the best relationships I’ve seen (and I watched a lot of anime/manga, read a lot of books and they’re still superior !)
Thanks for reading my analysis because it’s one of my guilty pleasures when I’m passionate about something, especially my comfort ship ! Take care of yourself <3
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