#I'm brainrotting over their similarities this evening <3 <3

[majestic-salad]

Tigerbeams Aces I miss you <3

[jessamine-rose]

*lovingly tackles Aine*

Read my Yandere! Pierro longfics first ♪( ´▽｀)

Last week, my beloved mutual @ainescribe surprised me with Savior! Darling fan art and AHAI9232@2-!/! CRYING SCREAMING I WANT TO LOOK AT THIS ART AND WORSHIP YOUR VERSION OF SAVIOR THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR BLESSING ME WITH YOUR ART—

*clears throat* Anyway, now that I finally have the time to properly sit down and comment on the fan art, I’ll do just that. Feedback will be in the tags and it will be unhinged. Once again, thank you so much to Aine for drawing this <3

[guiltyasdave]

help me hold onto you

pairing: Logan Howlett/Wolverine x mutant! f!reader

word count: ~3.5k

summary: Logan deals with feeling guilty after he's accidentally cut you with his claws in his sleep.

warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), able-bodied reader, reader has hair that can be pulled, no use of y/n, Logan lifts reader up but he's superhumanly strong, so-, graphic description of an injury, graphic description of violence, angst, nightmares, Logan's pov, fighting as foreplay, unprotected p in v, rough sex, biting, praise kink, a lot of animalistic behavior due to their mutations, like they're just a little... primal, it's cute i swear, also reader looks like a human being it's just the mannerisms, fluff

a/n: guess i'm a multi fandom writer now? this literally came to me in a fever dream, very much like the logan brainrot itself lol. this is my first time writing for the man, after watching the movies - also for the first time - last week, so please be gentle with me <3 something very similar happens in the origins movie and i wanted them to explore that more, but alas, i had to do it myself.

massive thanks to @kiwisbell for assuring me that this idea isn't terrible and for freaking out about logan with me in general, to @catchallfangirl for coming up with the whole cat theme and for being so supportive, to @sizzlingcloudmentality for matching my freak and taking the cat theme to the next level, for helping me plot and for being an amazing beta reader, and to @javier-pena for listening to me rant about this idea and being so lovely and supportive <3

dividers by @saradika-graphics who is a queen <3

notifications blog -> @guiltyasdavenotifs & full masterlist -> here

Most nights, Logan sleeps easier when you’re in bed with him. Your body pressed against his, your skin soft and warm against his bare chest. One of his thighs between your legs where you’ve wrapped yourself around him, your touch moving over his torso aimlessly, fingers curling into his chest hair, your hands kneading his flesh in your sleep. The soothing little purrs that emit from your chest when you’re sound asleep. None of it bothers him, no matter how many times it disturbs his own rest. 

It keeps him grounded, feeling you next to him. He’d rather spend the whole night somewhere in that haze between waking and sleeping, listening to your sounds, your breath fanning against his skin, than being pulled under into the depths of his subconsciousness. 

He’d rather open his eyes to see you disentangling your limbs from his, stretching your whole body, arching against him as you yawn. 

He’d rather greet you with a smiling “Good morning, kitten,” waiting for that adorable little crease to appear between your brows when you pout up at him. 

“Did I do it again?” 

He doesn’t hide his grin as he nods, growing wider when you flop back against the cushions with a groan. 

“What exactly?”

“All of it.” 

Your sorry comes out muffled as you hide your face behind your hands. 

“It’s okay,” he says, leaning over you to pull your hands away and kiss the pout off your lips. Caressing that spot under your chin with two fingers, watching you go all soft, baring your throat to him. “I like it.” 

He would much rather wake up like this. 

But it’s been a long week and he’s exhausted. Exhausted enough to get lulled into a deep sleep, encased in the safe cloud of your warm body against his and your touch on his skin. Exhausted enough to dream. And his dreams are not a safe place. 

His eyes fly open with a shout, his whole body jolting upwards, every muscle pulled taut. He doesn’t even register the claws shooting out between his knuckles, all of his instincts screaming at him to fight. 

He’s only faintly aware of the sudden yelp of pain from beside him, the movement of something jerking away from him. 

“Logan,” your voice rings through the buzzing in his ears. Smaller hands landing on his shoulders, fighting to hold him steady. 

It takes a few disoriented blinks before he recognizes the familiar bedroom, a few more deep breaths to stop his body from shaking. To clear the fog in his head enough to understand what you’re saying.

“It’s me, Logan. You’re safe, everyone’s safe, it’s okay.” 

His eyes find yours in the semi-darkness. Wide with worry, but firmly trained on his face, repeating that everything’s okay. He finally registers the familiar weight of you straddling him, understands that it’s your fingers digging into his shoulders. 

He’s still panting, not daring to look away from your face again. The one tether that keeps him from getting lost in his mind again. 

“Are you with me?” you ask, your voice softer now. 

He manages a nod, tries to smile, to wipe the deep worry of your face, but he’s not sure if his mouth even twitches. 

As the feeling slowly returns to his body, he notices something else. A kind of wetness, warm and sticky where your right hand is connected to his skin. The unmistakable tang of iron in the air. He stretches to turn on a bedside lamp, jostling you along with his movement. A quiet whimper hits his ears, so low that he’s sure you tried to suppress it. 

With a new kind of panic surging through him, he grabs hold of your arm, bringing it to his eye level. 

Three scratches ooze in deep red, just beneath your wrist. It forces a gasp from him, eyes dancing frantically between the wounds on your arm and your face. How much blood did you lose already while you were busy helping him? As if he deserved it. 

“Fuck, I’m— I’m so sorry baby, we gotta—” He stumbles over his own words, grasping at you almost blindly, panicked tears blurring his vision. He did this. 

“Logan,” you say, still so inexplicably calm. “It’s fine. Look. It’s fine.” 

You gently pry his fingers off your arm and bring your wrist up to your mouth. Your tongue darts out, drawing long licks against your marred skin, collecting the blood and gliding over the cuts in your flesh. 

It pains him to watch, but it’s the least he can do. The least he owes you. He watches you clean the blood off, watches as the wounds start shrinking at the touch of your saliva, as the skin smoothes over before his very eyes until there’s only three thin marks left, a shade lighter than the rest of your skin. 

“Look,” you tell him again, extending your arm towards him. “I told you it’s okay.” 

He knows you can do this, of course he does. Has watched you multiple times, his fascination with your powers never wavering. How fluidly you move, how quick you attack, how skilled you are at surviving. You just never had to survive him. 

You lean down on top of him until your whole torso rests on his, your thighs still on either side of him, burrowing your head into his chest. “Which war did you dream about?” you ask quietly.

Most of the time, the dreams don’t grant him the mercy to zero in on one single memory. It’s a constant stream, one fight after the other, until all he knows is shouting, fighting, blood and death.

“All of them.” 

You sigh deeply, your breath cool against his sweat-dampened skin. Raising your head a little, you start placing kisses on his chest, pressing your lips into his skin where you can feel the faint beating of his heart.

“I wish I could kiss this better, too,” you mumble. 

He chuckles humorlessly, one hand reaching into your hair to scratch at your scalp. You shudder at the touch, an approving little purr traveling up your throat. 

“It’s okay now,” he mutters, leaning in to inhale the scent of your hair. “Just— I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t be.” 

It sounds so simple, falling from your lips like this. But it’s no match for the aching guilt that’s already eating at him, the questions of what if that start swirling through his mind. 

Your body is growing heavier on top of him as you relax, your breaths evening out and your eyelids fluttering shut. It soothes him, has his own breathing slowing down, but he can’t risk falling asleep again. Not like this, not with your body so close to his.

“What are you— Logan?” comes your instant protest when he moves you to your side of the mattress, your eyes flying back open, wide and mildly confused.

“I could’ve killed you,” he mutters. It could have happened so easily. Just a little deeper, just a slightly different spot. 

“No, you couldn’t,” you quip, arching an eyebrow at him. “Cats have nine lives, remember?” You sneak another quick kiss on his chest before finding his gaze again, a teasing smile on your lips. “Even kittens.” 

It’s an attempt to lighten the mood, to make him laugh. He knows that. You hate the pet name he’s given you. 

“And you’re not gonna waste one on me,” he grits out. 

Hurt flashes over your face, more pain in your eyes than when there was an actual wound on your arm. 

“It wouldn’t be—”

“Don’t you dare say it wouldn’t be a waste.” 

The words come out as a low growl, aggressive enough to send most anyone running. You don’t run. 

Your animal doesn’t like it when he growls at you. He can feel the tension rolling off of you, your hair probably standing on end. Gritting your teeth, you take a deep breath, release your fingers’ grip from digging into the sheets.

“Let’s talk about it in the morning,” you tell him, resignation in your voice. 

Your eyes fall shut again, your head for once resting on your own pillow instead of his chest. He misses the weight of it instantly. You doze off quickly, your hands still pawing weakly at his side, like your body can’t help it. He almost pulls you closer himself. 

While you sleep, Logan forces his own eyes to stay wide open, staring unseeingly into the darkness. 

It’s a quiet day. You had tried talking to him, tried to convince him that it’s okay, that it’s fine. He can’t keep listening to you insisting that him almost killing you is no big deal. He should have known, should have been more aware of the risk instead of letting himself get lost in the blissful sensation of your body curled around his every night. You’ve trusted him so completely, only for him to let you down. 

Just like he always does, the voice in his head whispers.

No matter how many times you swear that you can take care of yourself, he should still be protecting you, not actively putting you in danger while you’re fucking asleep. It’s happened once now, so it can happen again, and he knows that he could never forgive himself. 

He knows that he’s hurting your feelings. Sees how your brows knit together when he barely kisses you back throughout the day. How you bite your lip when the way you’re butting your head against his doesn’t make him chuckle like it usually does. 

He should be angry at himself. He is. But you shouldn’t be the one to catch the brunt of it, and it makes him feel even worse. You always say that he should talk about his feelings more, that it would help to let them out. He suspects that you’re right. He just doesn’t know how.

By evening, you’ve grown uncharacteristically quiet, but he keeps catching your burning glares at him when you think he isn’t looking. Finally, after you’ve stared at him for what felt like an eternity and he’s pointedly ignored you, you seem to snap.

“Can you stop it?!” It leaves your mouth in a hiss, triggering his instincts before the words even register in his brain. 

“Stop what?” he growls back. 

Your fingers curl as a low snarl escapes you. Normally, neither of you lets your animalistic side take over like that. Normally, you’re good at soothing each other. 

But tonight, he can feel the energy crackle between you, the tension begging to be released. 

“You know what! This fucking— sulking or whatever it is you think you’re doing!” 

He rises to his feet, pulling up to his full height. One of your hands twitches. 

“I’m not—” 

You charge at him with an angry shout before another word can leave his mouth. You’re on him in a flash, grabbing onto his arm and letting your momentum carry you until you’re behind him, your nails digging into his shoulders until you’re perched on his backside. 

Whipping his head around, he bares his teeth at you, growls rumbling in his chest. You angrily hiss in his face and swing a hand at him in return, leaving angry red scratches down his cheek. They heal and fade as quickly as they came, but a triumphant grin flashes over your features regardless. 

“Come on, Logan,” you breathe into his ear. The edge in your voice sends fire straight through him. “Fight. You’re not gonna break me.” Your canines nip at his earlobe, somewhere between affectionate and challenging.

He tries shaking you off, but your grip on him only tightens. He collects a fist of your hair instead, pulling harshly to keep your teeth away from his throat. 

“Enough,” he grits, trying desperately to regain control, to become more human again, to smother the primal need to match your aggression. 

He finally grabs hold of one of your hands as well and manages to rip you off his back and in front of him, holding on tight to your upper arms to keep you in place. You’re snarling and twisting in his hold, but he doesn’t let up. 

“Enough,” he repeats, searching your wild eyes. Your movements slow down a fraction, giving him a moment of hope, before you surge forward and bury your teeth in his lower lip. It hurts like hell and he can taste blood on his tongue instantly. 

“Fight me,” you demand again, baring your teeth at him.

He pulls you back by your hair with a roar, gathers both your wrists in one large hand and holds you steady. You could still break free if you wanted to, he thinks. He might be stronger than you, but your movements turn almost liquid when you want to escape, he’s watched it more than once. 

The pain in his lip has already subsided, but his blood is still coating your mouth, a stark contrast against the white shimmer of your teeth. 

“Are you done?” His voice is harsh, his jaw clenched, carefully keeping the desire to strike back at bay. 

You deflate a little, some of the wildness draining from you before his eyes. 

“I just— I’m not fragile, I don’t want you to be scared of— of touching me.” Your voice grows small at the end and he’s horrified to see wetness glistening in your eyes. 

The fight mode leaves him as fast as it came, replaced with the overwhelming urge to care, to protect what’s his. His pack, in a way.  

He gathers you into his arms, curling himself around you. It feels good to hold you close again. Breathing you in deeply, he smells the adrenaline still oozing from you, hears the rapid beating of your heart. But mostly, it’s your unique scent, one that he thinks he could recognize anywhere. His tether to this world. 

“I’m sorry, kitten. I’m not scared of touching you,” he mumbles into your hair. 

You sniffle against his chest, but when you finally raise your head to look at him, new determination is glinting in your eyes. 

“Prove it,” you coo, tracing the shape of his lips with one fingertip. “Please.” 

That he can do. He nips at your finger playfully, your responding giggle the best sound he’s heard all day, before he shoves it out of the way to connect his lips with yours. It’s rough, a clashing of teeth and tongues, the tension that has been building and warping all day finally finding a release. 

You gasp into his mouth when his tongue moves against yours, your hands pulling at his hair, needing him closer and closer still, never close enough. His groan at the taste of you travels through you both as he’s grasping at your clothes. 

He longs for your warm skin under his palms, longs for how you lean into his touch so needy all the damn time. You pull away with a moan, helping him to pull your sweater over your head and stepping out of your jeans as he sheds his flannel. 

You bring both hands up to cup his face, to search his eyes. “Don’t be gentle,” you plead, “please, I need—” 

You don’t have to keep talking for him to understand what you need. I’m not scared of touching you. 

With a growl, his hands find your hips, holding you tight as he’s walking you backwards until your ass connects with the backside of the couch. He crowds you in, paws at every inch of bare skin he can reach, his cock already hard and aching at your soft warmth and the sweet mewls that tumble from your lips. 

Hitching one of your legs up to open you for him, he grinds himself against your barely covered center. A keening sound escapes you at the friction from his jeans against your sensitive flesh and he allows himself a grin. 

“Feels good, kitten?” 

You nod mindlessly, holding onto him and rocking your hips against his while you’re letting him move you however he sees fit. 

“Do you want more?”

“Please, Logan.”

You sound so sweet when you’re like this, when you put your body into his hands. I’m not scared of touching you.

Setting your leg back down, he watches with hunger as you hastily take off your underwear while he pulls the white tank top over his head and opens his belt buckle. He could swear that your pupils dilate a fraction at the sound of it, filling him with a possessive sense of pride. 

As soon as his jeans hit the floor, he’s all over you again, palming the weight of your breasts, tugging and pinching at your nipples as he swallows down your mewls. You’re soaking wet already, covering his cock in your slick as he nudges against your folds. He’s impatient to feel you all around him, to sink into you, to stake his claim again and again and again. 

He normally works you open longer, gives you more time to prepare, but your impatience is just as apparent as his own, with the way you whine and plead for him, your fingers digging into his flesh, trying to pull him nearer. 

He follows your pull, pressing your backside into the couch once more as he crowds your space. Leaning in, he kisses you deeply, licking into your mouth, one hand buried in your hair and holding you close. 

“I love you,” he breathes against your lips as he lets go of you. I’m not scared of touching you.

You smile softly, echoing the sentiment back at him. 

A surprised squeak escapes you when he turns you around suddenly, bending you over the back of the couch. He lines himself up at your dripping entrance, desperate to fill you up, to give you what you’re craving. 

“Not gentle?” he rasps once more, one hand curling around your neck from behind, both in reassurance and dominance. 

“Not gentle,” comes your breathy answer. It breaks off into a shriek of a moan when he slams into you with one long thrust, stretching your tight walls around his length. The sting of his sudden intrusion has to hurt at least a little, but you push back against him eagerly, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. 

Logan holds himself still for a moment, mesmerized by the sight of your squirming body and your needy little sounds, before he pulls out almost entirely, only to push back in forcefully. Your toes barely reach the floor with how far he’s bent you over, lifting you into the air with every harsh thrust, but he’s holding you steady with ease, both hands possessively spanning over your waist, positioning you exactly where he wants you. 

“Taking me so fucking well, like you were made for me,” he growls, gently scratching over your back with his nails. You arch up to chase his touch, tightening around him, almost purring with pleasure. Wetness pours out of you, coating his cock. I’m not scared of touching you. Not when it feels this good. 

“M–more, please,” you whine, blindly reaching backwards to him. 

He leans over you, cages you in, his arms on either side of you, his breath hot against your skin. His teeth sink into the back of your neck, not so deep as to draw blood, but enough that he knows the indents will stay there for quite some time. 

Your whole body goes limp at the sensation, a surprised mewl escaping you as you clench around him wildly. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, his own hips stuttering, “give it to me kitten, come on—” 

He reaches around your hip, fingers teasing through your slick folds and up to your clit, rubbing with slight pressure as he keeps pistoning into your heat. 

“Logan—” you gasp, getting almost impossibly tight, before you shatter around him. He keeps thrusting into you, keeps up his ministrations on your clit, until the pulsing of your cunt around him sends him over the edge as well. He spills his release deep inside of you, the thought of leaving a part of him with you always filling him with a primal satisfaction. 

Pulling you up instantly, he gathers you in his arms, your body soft and pliant against his chest. Walking around the couch and sinking into the cushions to lie down, he gently moves you until your weight is resting on top of him, his embrace wrapping around you.

You stir a little, needing a moment to take in your position. The look of uncertainty that you give him damn near breaks his heart. “Is this okay?” You sound uncertain, too.

God, he’s such an idiot. 

“Yeah, kitten. It’s— fuck, of course it’s okay.”

thank you so so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed, and if you did, a comment or a reblog would absolutely make my day :)

[14dayswithyou]

The 14dwy brainrot is real..>.<

So I was tocasually thinking about my angelsona ( she takes up 90% of my brain ) and I remembered how one of her very first tattoos was a womb tattoo, which she got for shits and giggles because she's on the ace spectrum (she thought it would be ironic). And now I'm just imagining a scenario where REDACTED casually knocks out the tattoo guy and then "subs" in to do the tattoo and I thought it was really funny skskksjsj 💀💀💀

✦゜ANSWERED: LMAOOO Imagine [REDACTED] knowing beforehand that your Angel wanted to get a womb tattoo, so they disguise themself as a tattoo artist and hijack a local tattoo studio (don't ask about the lumpy, human-sized bags near the dumpster <3)

It's kind of strange that your regular tattoo artist couldn't make it to any of your recent sessions... but what's even stranger is that every time [REDACTED] bends over to retrieve an item, you see a sliver of a design similar to the one you have on your lower back.

[nanaminsmoon]

𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫!𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

a/n: this has just been sat in the vaults for a month and i'm just in eren brainrot mode rn so here she is😁 also, i just imagined rapper!eren being like central cee. so just imagine him wearing a nike tech in every interaction lol.

cw: fingering, pnv, infidelity, mentions of breeding, finger sucking, eren calls reader; 'ma', 'my girl', 'baby', and i don't cosign homewrecking be respectful y'all😭

cw: 4590...

rapper!eren who tells you it was never meant to go this far, because it truly wasn't. it all started because you had similar music taste, so you understood the influence of his favourite artists (which happened to be your favourite artists) on his music.

you first met rapper! eren when you bumped into one another at the record store. he was a popular up and coming artist, so you somewhat recognised him but you couldn't pinpoint where from. you had been in the same section of the shop and he liked your outfit, thought you had great taste and, when you turned around, he saw that you were bad. so he sparked up a conversation with you. he was used to people pretending they didn’t know who he was just to get into his inner circle but, upon further conversation, he could tell that you really barely had any idea who he was. and, initially, that was a punch to his ego (because damn his music isn’t reaching baddies like that??), but he just decided it was for the best.

rapper!eren who called you after you gave him your number, which you found quite interesting because you barely knew each other and he was calling you before even texting you?? but you answered, and conversations about anything and everything meant that when you looked up from the doodle you had been focused on while talking to him, the small clock hand had moved forwards three numbers. saying you were ‘surprised’ by his depth makes it seem as though you expected him to be an idiot, but you were just taken aback by the way that every other word he said to you was an echo of the thoughts you had never gotten the chance to shout out into the world.

rapper!eren whose words had your cheeks heating up as they begun to ache from smiling at his flirtatious tone. honeyed syllables flowed into your ears, only just to run back out, slowly caressing your skin on its way down to the space between your legs. though not necessarily obscene, rapper!eren‘s words dirtied the scenes running in your mind, painting a packed gallery of lude images you wanted him to paint all over your body.

“did you just giggle?”, he chuckled over the phone, and you shook your head furiously as if he could see you.

“what? no!”, you sat up on your bed, the defence on your features evident to both you and the walls surrounding you. he wasn’t wrong, you did giggle. but you wouldn’t let him hear that admission. it felt slightly ridiculous, because you had only known him for a few weeks, but whenever you saw the name ’eren<;3’ appear on your phone, the muscle between your ribs would begin a high intensity workout. the effects manifesting themselves in the endorphins flying through your body, and the way he just made you feel…giddy.

calls started off as being once every few days. then it was once a day. then his name was painting your phone screen twice a day. then it became a few times a day; he would call you when he woke up, and you would try your best to not lose it over his morning voice, especially when he said shit like:

”i wish i could see you right now, i feel like you look cute in the morning. nah? i don’t believe that”.

you would call him on your commute, then you’d eat dinner together over facetime. then, once the sun set, every step in your night-time routine would be interrupted by rapper!eren’s inquisitons about literally everything: ”what’s that for?”, ”what does that do?”, ”your skin is perfect you don’t need all that.” and, soon, the texts began sprinkling themselves in between those calls; ’good morning’ texts, ’how’s your day goin?’ texts, ’show me your fit’ texts, ’facetime?’ texts, and ’you got time to call?’ texts.

then two, or so, months passed and you came to find out why the beginning of your relationship was mainly just calls: so it couldn’t be traced back to him. though he had your contact saved, he could always just delete your call logs, and you would have no way of proving that you actually spoke. this revelation struck you shortly after a tiktok came up on your foryoupage showing someone talking about rapper!eren and his rumoured girlfriend. said ‘rumoured’ girlfriend who really just looked like his actual girlfriend with the way his arm was slung around her shoulder, her hand reaching up to hold his, as he nuzzled his nose against her cheek. as soon as rapper!eren noticed the cameras, he peeled himself off of her and put his hands in his joggers. and, as pissed as you were, you could admit that the girl was cute; standing shorter than him, with short brown hair.

rapper!eren whose eyebrows met to screw in frustration at his calls and texts going unanswered. a part of him grew unreasonably pissed off when he kept calling you and kept getting sent to voicemail. at first, he assumed you were just busy so he just postponed his call because he knew what time you usually ate dinner, meaning he knew when you usually called him. but to make sure you weren’t still busy, he texted you and again, it was just ‘read’.

“what the fuck?”, he whispered at his phone screen as he sat in the back of the black suv. no matter what he tried, rapper!eren got no response and he didn’t know why that cut him so deep. he was inured to female attention so your replacement was nothing more than a dm away. but…he didn’t want to replace you. talking to you had become so pivotal to his day-to-day routine and he didn’t like that being taken away from him without him having a say. but after three days of dodging his calls, you finally texted him.

…: you have a gf?

rapper!eren: thats what this shit was about y/n?

…: this shit?? nigga you have a girlfriend tf you mean this shit??

rapper!eren: its more complicated than that

…: is it???

…: she’s either your gf or she isn’t how’s that complicated?

rapper!eren: dw abt it

rapper!eren: come to my studio tonite. got smth i wanna run by you

…: huh??

read.

rapper!eren who finally responded a few hours after that conversation. but, instead of the explanation you were looking for, you got sent an address and a message telling you that someone was on their way to come pick you up. you quickly texted rapper!eren your address, then you had just half an hour to get ready. had this been a week ago, you would’ve done a bit more; matching underwear and all. but instead, you just decided to keep it cute but simple—both your outfit, and your makeup.

you got a text telling you to make your way outside and when you did, you were met with a black suv with tinted windows. as weird as it looked, the driver asking for your name reassured you and you got in. the drive to the address was silent. it was just you and the driver in there, and he didn’t even spare you a glance once you got in the car, so you were just left with your thoughts. and they made it a very gruelling 30 minute journey. once you arrived at the building, the driver took you to the door, where you were met with rapper!eren‘s manager. that’s when you found out that the building was where rapper!eren‘s studio was.

rapper!eren who sat alone behind a translucent door, looking down at his phone until his manager opened the door. you hadn’t seen him in person since the first time you met and, knowing what you now knew, your heart was at the pit of your stomach. so your first few moments there were spent stood, abashedly, at the door. an unreadable smirk braced his face at your appearance, before he made his way to hug you. being polite, you hugged him back. and those nasty wasps in your stomach were mixing with butterflies. you hated it to say it, but you were attracted to rapper!eren and the strong smell of his aftershave was enough to drive the butterflies in your stomach to migrate to the space between your legs. but, at some point, their wings would be clipped by the fact that the man had a girlfriend.

rapper!eren who noticed you looking a little skittish, and moved to stroke your arm to calm you down but you just looked at him blankly so he moved away. the weird feeling in your stomach had yet to go away, and it only grew once you looked around and saw that the only lights on were red LED lights, and a few candles placed on random tables.

“you drink?”, rapper! eren picked up a bottle of expensive looking red wine and two big wine glasses.

“not with men who have girlfriends, no.”, you quipped, taking your hoodie off, and putting it on the sofa.

rapper! eren who really did call you there to ask you about something because he had made a new song, and he wanted to see how you liked it. no one else knew what his vision was but, having similar music taste, he knew you would. but the second your hoodie came off, his intentions wavered. at that very moment, he could feel the very thing he had been trying to bury for the past few days, making his dick twitch in his joggers. making it infinitely harder to ignore—if he even wanted to do that anymore.

rapper! eren whose eyes glimmered at the sight of you thoroughly enjoying his song, even giving him real feedback that he knew would make the song better. you were sat by his laptop and the way your knees would touch whenever you moved to the beat did not go neglected. despite your prior apprehensions, he had poured you both some red wine, and you were slowly making your way through your glasses. mid-conversation, he caught you staring at his chains. especially the pendant with his name on it; bussed down and twinkling even under the minimal lighting.

“you like ‘em?”, he looked down at his chest, smirking, and you nodded at him.

“are they heavy?”, you giggled. that chain was thick but the pendant on it looked like it had some weight on it too.

rapper! eren‘s answer wasn’t verbal, instead he just reached behind his neck and took it off, holding it toward you,

“try it on”, he said, quietly and you shook your head. the man had a girlfriend why was he drinking with you, and asking you to put his chain on??

“nah, bro, that’s too far. you’ve got a gir—”, you began, and rapper! eren rolled his eyes as he got up from his chair,

“first off, she’s not here. second, don’t call me ‘bro’. that’s what my boys call me.”, he stood, looking down at you, obviously waiting for you to stand up. your guilt only grew, to subside again, as you got up. and then he stepped closer. you were sat pretty close before, but now the tips of your shoes were meeting. then he leaned forward and reached behind you to put his chain on you. once it hung around your neck, you got the answer to your question; it was heavy.

lost in observation, you hadn’t even realised the way rapper! eren‘s hands hadn’t left your body, they had just changed locations. they moved from the back of your neck, to your cheeks where he held you to face him. fuck. this man was fine. yes, you felt bad but she was purring. you didn’t know his girl so what loyalties did you have to her? and plus, who are you to judge other people’s relationships? maybe she’s okay with him cheating…

you knew damn well you were just being selfish, but that didn’t stop you from moaning into rapper! eren‘s mouth once his lips collided with yours. the way the baby, blue shimmer of the diamonds bounced off the gloss on your lips made them impossible to ignore. they were just asking for rapper! eren to mess them up, and replace the sheen with the one provided by his saliva. this wasn’t the first time he had cheated on his girlfriend; he was surrounded by beautiful women who wanted him every single day, and he had the self control of a dog who hadn’t been fed in weeks. but this time felt like more than just kissing, rapper! eren didn’t want anyone else to have you. and he hadn’t realised that until he saw you with his name shining around your neck.

the slow, fervent kiss grew haste when rapper! eren‘s hands started moving to grip anything he could through your dress. soon, you were straddling him on the black leather sofa, slowly grinding on him as he pushed you down onto the tent forming in his grey nike tech. naturally, your dress began to hike up your body, and rapper! eren aided its trek by pulling it up so the end of the dress was lightly pecking the top of your black lace thong. it was at this point that rapper! eren knew that there was no going back for him; if he didn’t fuck you now, he would be dreaming about it until he did.

his lips did not leave you once—moving from your own to your cheeks, jaw, neck, chest. his hand laid on your clothed tit, the other being pulled out from under your dress, and quickly covered by his swollen pink lips. the way his tongue swirled around your nipple had you throwing your head back, your hips not stopping once. veins that once transported blood became the primary vehicle for the pleasure he was providing you, you hadn’t even noticed his hand moving to the space between your legs. slipping your thong aside, he began rubbing circles on your clit.

“’ren, p-please”, you whined, breathlessly. thoughts weren’t connecting properly anymore, so you didn’t even know what you were pleading for. you just felt the need to say something.

“w-wait, please”, you breathed out, and he hummed against whatever skin he was kissing at that point, you really didn’t know anymore. your entire body was on fire, so it all just felt like one big sensation.

“i am waiting, ma”, rapper! eren cooed, “there’s a lot more i wanna be doing right now.”, he nipped your other breast that he had alternated to at some point, and you knew he would leave a mark. and that’s exactly what he wanted.

a few minutes passed before rapper! eren inserted his middle and ring finger inside you. shivers ran a marathon all over your body as his bussed down star ring grazed your thigh, while he pumped his tattooed digits in and out of you. all the while, rapper! eren‘s eyes never left your face; the glistering jades illuminated every feature on you—your moistened pert nipples, your bleary gaze, and your parted lips. your drool mixing with his saliva still on them.

it didn’t take long for you to cum all over his fingers, trembling and cantillating his name into the space around the both of you. no part of your body could handle that wave once it washed over you, the tide pulling your forehead onto his chest, that was heaving almost as deeply as yours was. you hadn’t done much, but rapper! eren was so turned on by the fact that he was making you feel good. but even knowing that, his fingers didn’t relent.

once you were able to lift your heavy eyelids, and open your eyes, you saw a space grey patch on rapper! eren ‘s light grey tech, and that aroused a small panic in your stomach.

“’ren, s-stop”, you began, and as soon as that word left your mouth, his fingers stilled. a billion thoughts raced through his mind; maybe you’d changed your mind, maybe it didn’t feel good anymore. but when he found out that it was just because you didn’t want to get his tech wet, he chortled at how cute you were, and stroked your teary cheek with the hand that wasn’t pumping in and out of you again.

“you think i care if people know how wet my girl gets when she’s with me?”, he spoke onto the skin on your neck. fuck. you hated how good it felt to be called that, but you couldn’t stop the way you clenched around his fingers at that nickname. the same nickname that belonged to another woman.

“you like that? me calling you ‘my girl’?”, rapper! eren teased, lifting your chin when you tried to evade eye contact, “you want me to fuck you with my chain ‘round your neck? make you mine for real?”, his hand was wrapped around the top of your neck to hold your chin in place, and you just nodded furiously. fighting your need for him was futile, so you would give in now and regret this later.

confirmation received, rapper! eren picked you up and placed you on the sofa on your back, lips still glued on your neck. it wasn’t until he paused momentarily to take off his hoodie and shirt that you realised where things were going and panic returned. you placed your manicured fingers flat on his chest, providing a bit of resistance as your head shook slightly. but you didn’t say anything, simply hoping the look in your eyes would communicate everything your mouth couldn’t.

“your girlfriend”, you spoke, voice barely above a whisper. and rapper! eren moved closer to your face, meeting your lips. then he spoke against them,

“tell me you don’t want this, and i’ll stop”, he told you sincerely and you stammered, words failing you once again. or, really, you failing yourself because there were no words you could string together to hide the way you wanted needed this man to fuck you until you started crying. you’d heard the stories, you’d heard the song lyrics, and there was no smoke without fire. so you wrapped yourself up in a fire blanket and walked straight into the blazing heat. you shook your head at him, and reached for the bulge poking you in your stomach. and he smiled down at you before kissing you again and pulling back to get condoms from a drawer next to the sofa.

rapper!eren whose mind could barely grasp the concept of anything that wasn’t how tight you would feel around him. at this point in time, he didn’t know where he was anymore, nor did he care. the faint sounds of people talking in the hallways outside his studio were hushed static compared to the soft whines escaping your lips. you were desperate; this man had thrown a lasso around you, pulled you into his orbit, and then was just tangling you in front of himself. almost as if he was teasing himself—placing you in front of his face, legs wide open, yet not doing anything to close the faucet responsible for his leaking, throbbing, pink tip. but only rapper!eren knew that the reason for his eyes sprinting across your body, unbothered by the finish line, was because he didn’t know where to start with you. he had stripped you of your dress; he didn’t plan on doing so originally, but he needed to see your tits bounce as he fucked you so it had to come off. but now that you were whining underneath him—spit sliding down the corners of your mouth, making its way down onto the sides of your neck as you sucked on his tatted fingers, eyes locked with his own, he didn’t know what to do with you. your eyes had rendered him paralysed; yes, he may have been on top of you, but you were in control. He was on his knees for you, literally! he was on his knees on the sofa, with his legs caging one of your own.

rapper!eren who, as mesmerised as he was, remembered that he couldn’t just gawk at you forever so he positioned himself at your entrance. looking at you before he put it in, he saw a smirk painted on your face,

“nervous?”, you teased, and he scoffed at you. all it took was for his tip to softly poke your entrance, for you to cry out his name. if he was in his right mind, he might’ve given you shit for how quickly you were eating your own words. but all he could think about was how he hadn’t even done anything and you were already falling apart underneath him.

“fuck.”, he breathed out as he looked at his dick, still visible between your legs.

rapper!eren was a very sought after man, women wanting him did not surprise him. but you moaned his name like you needed him. like you were flirting with the brink of insanity every single second his dick wasn’t deep in your guts. and, rapper!eren may have been a very unloyal man, but he was very possessive. and there was nothing he hated more than people fucking with what’s his. so he would rip you from the hands of insanity, and fuck you until the afterglow was so prominent that everyone would know to go nowhere near you.

“just wait for me, baby, yeah? I’m right here”.

rapper!eren who lets out a deep sigh as soon as he starts pushing himself inside you, his eyeballs exploring the back of their sockets when he felt how tight you were. he had been intent on watching you take him in, inch by inch (all 8 of them), as he sheathed himself into you. but how wet you were was making him delirious. it felt like you were tightening around him with every half an inch that you took of him. probably because you were. everything was hitting you all at once, and your body was just reacting without even consolting you. it was how sexy he was, the sound of his heavy breathing, low moans hitting your ear. bitch it felt like you were doing the damn tiktok kegel exercises.

from what you had barely seen earlier through your drenched eyelashes, you knew that there would be a lot of rapper!eren to take in. but it seemed like the man was just never ending. when you thought he was fully inside you, he would push some more and you would feel yourself stretch around him. it wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable, just a lot to get used to. so your arms were reaching across his back, scratching slightly as he bottomed out inside of you.

deep sighs and whiny protests soon became blissful incantations of pleasure leaving your lips to hit rapper!eren‘s bare shoulder. his tatted fingers were digging into the fat surrounding your hips, waist, anything he could reach. not too long after you two began fucking, his manager had opened the door to ask if he was ready to go. but, when he opened the door to the soundproof studio and saw you two fucking on the sofa, he figured rapper!eren had some loose ends to tie up before he left to go to his hotel. neither of you had noticed because you were too busy focusing on the sweet words leaving this man’s mouth, as well as his chains hitting your skin. no soul would’ve guessed that this man’s pen game was crazy with the fucked out nonsense he was spewing on whatever skin he was kissing at the time.

”imma fuck you so good nobody’s gonna be good enough f’r you. hm? you want that? fuck, if I wasn’t so stupid(?) i’d fuck a baby in you. i promise you. this pussy’s so fucking tight, i don’t even care anymore. i got money, i could take care of a kid. you wan’ it? you wan’ me to just get you pregnant? let everyone call you my baby mama? you’re a slut you know that, yeah? just wan’ my nut leaking outta you? fuck, y/n, you’re gonna get me in trouble.”

rapper!eren whose fingers teased your clit, slow and gentle as if he wasn’t pounding into you with reckless abandon on some small sofa in his studio. but the few seconds that those two fingers sped up on your little bud of nerves were enough to have you drenching his lower abdomen, and fingers. too lost in the moment, he had forgotten to taste you earlier, so he put his fingers in his mouth and he rolled his tongue around them. the taste of you in his mouth dropped his eyelids, his hips moving faster and faster as your arousal coated his tastebuds.

rapper!eren who couldn’t remember the last time he was that turned on by anyone. his hips were moving on their own, rushing to get that release. he wanted to hold it, because he wanted to give you round after round after round and he wanted you to cum, at least, one more time before he did so himself. if it were up to him, he would pick you up and take you into the booth and fuck you in there so he could get some adlibs for his next song. but he just couldn’t do it.

“i’ll—fuck—i’ll make it up to you. i swe—shit”, he quickly pulled out of you, and scrambled to take his condom off. his hand managed one stroke on his dick before his nut spurted all over your chest, specks finding themselves on your chin. before the last droplets of his release dripped onto your stomach.

once he finished, rapper!eren pulled back and, as his eyes regained focus, he was just mesmerised by you. eyes barely opening, bodily fluids all over you, but his chain remained proud at the centre of your chest. he had to take his phone out and take a few pictures of you just like that. spurts of his cum acted as an adhesive, sticking his name onto your heart. yeah, he wasn’t letting you go now. he didn’t know how to feel about the cum splattered on his chain, but he just settled on getting a new one and just letting you keep that one. how he would explain that to his girlfriend, he had no fucking clue but he would figure something out…

after he took you to a hotel suite and made up for nutting quicker than he had hoped…by fucking you senseless:))

© Rights owned by nanaminsmooninc. Do not repost without permission.

[hanafubukki]

hana, i know you reblogged this post but please,

go wild and brainrot;3

Hello Herri 💕💜🌺

As you have asked for, so shall you receive. I AM STILL ROTTING OVER THIS MAN SO YOU HAVE COME AT THE PERFECT MOMENT (then again do I ever not rot over this fae????)

So that quote just hits me right in the feels, its one of the quotes that just steps on your heart, you know? HTTYD 2 is my favorite movie of the three as well

"Go on, shout. scream! Say something!"

"You're as beautiful as the day I lost you."

These two lines are just so so filled with emotions and then you can add so much more feels and angst as well, given how you set up the story line.

SO HERE WE GO, under the cut because I am going to go wild and I ended up writing a few different drabbles.

So, to start of with your idea Herri, I'm going to add a spin on it and more details.

What if Reader was a Fae in this scenario?

So, the situation is similar to HTTYD, but in this case instead of enemies being dragons, we are going with enemies being Humans.

Humans and Fae War will be the setting.

Reader develops sympathy/empathy for the humans, but know that during this time, the Fae are too prideful to sign a treaty with them.

Likewise, humans are just as stubborn.

but the Reader cannot and will not have humans die by their hands, not anymore.

but Reader knows that they are the only ones thinking this way, and knows that their beloved, Lilia, is stubborn and won't change his mind either.

As all problems require, time is needed.

So Reader leaves in the middle of the night without telling anyone.

Time passes, and the war ends, and we come to current times.

You have moved on to another land. You used your magic to hide your Fae features until everything has settled down between the Fae and Humans.

Now that peace has come, you can’t help but wonder, should you go back? Should you reveal yourself?

Coronation Route: You went back home once you heard that Maleficia is stepping down, and her grandson Malleus will be taking her place as King. You have heard how he has a fondness for humans, and even made friends with them. You have heard rumors about how his lover might even be human. You have heard rumors how Lilia is by his side, and so are two guards (one who is human and another who is half fae and half human). You can't help it. You want to go back. You want to see him again. So you go back to your kingdom on the day of the coronation, wearing a robe to cover you. You watch as Malleus and his entourage greet the people and then you see him. He has changed...yet he is the Lilia you love and cherish. You can't help it; you utter his name. He shouldn't have been able to see you, and yet his eyes snapped towards your direction. You turn to leave quietly, hoping against all odds he's hadn't noticed you. But of course, he is the Phantom General, he catches you. You could see that he still has the love he always had for you and then those lines are uttered by you both. You end up breaking down and crying in his arms. You missed him, all these years and your love for each other never faded. It seems there is more than one celebration to celebrate tonight. It was also a night of lovers being reunited after hundreds of years.

NRC Route: I'm thinking of reasons why Fae Reader ended up at NRC and I'm going with they are a professor there. NRC is nothing, if not perfect at hiding secrets and they hid your identity well. That is until you attended the ceremony for the new students and lo and behold, Malleus and Lilia are both part of the new class. You have to force yourself from shaking. You have to stop yourself from looking at Lilia again and again. You can't look at him again. You can't drink him in as if he is water and you are very much parched for him. You try to act normal as you feel eyes on you, and you know it is him. You leave the ceremony right after is it finished, hoping to evade him just a bit longer. What can you say? What can you do? How would you face him after so long? But you have missed him so. Time is taken out of your hands when you see him in your room, while he may not look the same, he is skillful and has been known as the Phantom General after all. He is a silent as the shadows and you can't help it. You break first. You say those words, only for him to call you beautiful in return. You sob as he cups your face and wipes your tears. His arms as warm and comforting as you remember. You two have many years to make up for, and lucky for you both, you two have all the time in the world.

NO ONE LOOK AT ME I AM STILL FEELING SOFT AFTER WRITING THAT JKLWJEDLJFLJL

Now, what if Reader was human?

There's so many different situations I can come up with, but I'm going to go with two of them. One is going to be with a Human and reincarnation trope and another is going to deal with my Yume Hana Asteria.

Reincarnation Route: You were a human who had met the General on the battle field. He was ensnared by a trap set by the humans, but had gotten free. At the cost of grave wounds, you chose to heal his wounds instead of leaving him. You knew that you should have left him be, knew that he would likely kill you. but you couldn't, at the end, he needed help and you wouldn't leave him. He ended up in your care. He wasn't the...greatest patient. He snarled at you and demeaned you, but you let him be. He had many chances to kill you, but never did and that was good enough for you. You ended up dying protecting him. He had tears falling down his face while he cradled you. You told him it was okay and that you cherished your time together. You prayed you two would meet again. You did not know it, but you were the start of why he started softening towards humans. Hundreds of years passed, you had returned as the magic-less Prefect. You two made a connection as if you were soulmates, but neither of you knew why. It was only in the dream world did you both finally understand. After Malleus' OB had been settled, you yelled. Not at him, never at him, you yelled at the unfairness of it all. But he just uttered, how much you haven't changed and how you are as beautiful as he remembered. And you both knew, No matter the situation, this time you both would have a Happy Ending in this life.

Hana Asteria Route: Hana tried to stop the war between both sides, but no matter what she did, it was never enough. Hana eventually gets captured by the Fae, and in time, she forms a camaraderie with them. Eventually, she has to leave, her powers were used too much and she would shatter if she stayed any longer, so she said good bye. When she finally returned, she did not remember her time in the past. But as the story progressed as in canon, she remembered. It was then that she shouted. She felt useless. She couldn't even help those she loves, but Lilia comforted her. The stars had granted him his deepest wish. He would meet her again, and so they were reunited. This time though, they both would work together to bring forth the world they dreamed of. This story Anonie wrote speaks to me on so many levels on how Hana and Lilia met. It is beautiful and I recommend everyone to check it out.

PLEASE I AM STILL SO SOFT. IT IS SOMETHING ABOUT IMMORTALS AND MOTALS LOVING EACH OTHER. ABOUT HOW, THROUGH TIME, THEY WILL MEET AGAIN AND AGAIN. HOW THEY WILL CONSTANTLY FALL IN LOVE THAT HAS ME GO FERAL 💜💚💚💚💚

Going to stop here because then I will never stop at this rate lolol I want to hopefully write one of these ideas one day but we will see.

I hope you enjoyed what I wrote Herri and that it helped with your writer's block.

Your ask certainly has me going feral again, but hey, at least this time I'm not stating how bad I want to...uhhhh ah-hem.

Thank you of sending this in 💚🌺

Additional Credit for the Quote by @aqua-beam

[tw1l1te]

Ooohh , I just read about the flustered links reacting to showing skin and flirty-ness (it’s great!), but how do you think Legend or Four would react? For some reason I feel like Legend would be really surprised initially and caught off guard, but then get used to it pretty fast. For Four, (going with the concept that he is four people in one) I feel like, from his sides, Red would be flustered, Green would try to act respectfully and avert his gaze, Blue would blush, but would try to not bring attention to it and act normally, and Vio would be 100% unaffected. Meaning that Four is a mess or reactions all at once.

Ugh I'm having so much Legend brainrot rn :>

I feel like Legend is the more suave one in this scenario. He's used to people being flirty with him, sexual innuendos, yada yada. But when it's you that insinuates that? He's smitten, turned on, all of the above.

Four is kinda similar in the sense that he hears sooo much stuff about people's sex lives in the blacksmith shop, like an ungodly amount, so he doesn't really react to it much. The colors internally are wreaking havoc mentally, though.

Here's some scenarios for the two<3

Legend

He was sewing up Wild's tunic after dinner, as the fabric was so full of holes, it was hardly a piece of clothing.

You wandered off to go wash up in the nearby stream

The group setup camp for the night, so everyone was taking inventory of weapons and food and doing whatever hygiene/self care regimes that needed to be done

Mistakingly, however, you grabbed Legend's spare clothes instead of your own. Of course you fucking did.

Your presense was made known with a wolf whistle from Wars, causing Legend to look up from his work, choking on his spit when he noticed what you were wearing.

You were wearing his dark green long tunic and shorts, hair loose from your typical up-do.

Mother of- seeing you wearing his clothes was doing something to him. He felt... hot. His mouth was dry, eyes glued onto your form. The clothes were a bit big on you, your neck and shoulders exposed to him.

"Sorry, I meant to grab my own clothes but it seems like I accidentaly took yours. I can go change-"

"Don't. Please don't."

Oh. Oh. Oh-

A sly smile spread on your lips, Legend already regretting his vocal admittance.

You sit next to him, head on his shoulder. Breathing on to his neck, you whisper "You like me in your clothes don't you? Why don't we see how much you like me without them."

Four

He was hammering away at a sword, sheltered from the downpour outside. The others were in the other room, looking over their materials and planning next steps for their journey

Suddenly the door slams open, you standing thoroughly soaked through from the rain.

"Holy- What were you doing out there?! Get in get in-"

Four quickly places the hot blade somewhere safe so either of you don't get burnt or catch something on fire.

Four runs to the broom closet, grabbing an old blanket to warm you with, coming back to you and bundling you in it, but not before noticing that you had been wearing all white meaning-

Meaning he could see everything

The curve of your chest, the outline of your hips, even your dark green lacy panties that he bought for you a month ago

"I-uh was out doing some errands and somehow took the long way back and I got lost. Also, got caught in the storm, as you can obviously tell.

He clears his throat, trying to avoid gazing downwards, which was done not very subtly at all. He was practically looking at the ceiling.

"-Ah you can see everything, can you?"

He nods, ears burning red.

"I probably shouldn't wear all white when I know its going to rain, that's my bad. Although..."

You place a delicate hand on his chest, playing with a button on his tunic, his heart hammering hundreds of miles a second and the colors were going haywire-

"I do like the color of panties you chose for me. Why don't we go see how the others you bought look on me, hm?"

teehee :3

[viburnt]

Leopard! Dabi Headcanons (Hybrid! AU)

Someone had requested this on my asks, but TUMBLR WAS A BITCH AND UPLOADED THE WRING THING. Anyhow, hoping this reaches that person. Please enjoy!

CONTENT WARNING: NSFW 🔞, mentions of breeding

• Leopards are opportunistic hunters, and they use their particular appearance to disguise themselves and surprise the prey they've targeted. Sounds a little familiar? Perhaps it is because it's something Dabi does. Touya Todoroki joined Shigaraki as Dabi, a false identity he created to take revenge on Endeavor; he didn't join Shigaraki because he supported his plans, but because he needed things he could provide like the resources and a team.

• Something very curious about this species is how they have variants according to the environment. We have grey/white snow leopards, yellow ones, and black ones too! It's befitting considering how Dabi's appearance has changed over the years: white-haired kid, black-haired villain. A snow leopard and a panther.

• Depending on when you meet him, you could either find deep black fur on his tail and ears, or you could still see his white fur. He also has a pair of large canines that you can see whenever he grins or when his anger is too much to handle.

• It is also a thing that leopards have super soft fur on their lower abdomen so... happy trail. Oh! Claws, by the way; my take on this is that Touya might've been declawed as a cub to avoid "hurting himself more" than he already did with his quirk.

• Leopards are also very active during most of the day, always on the lookout for prey. Leopard! Dabi is also plotting against heroes and his father most of the time. He's part of a very solitary species, not exactly forming bonds like other big cats such as lions. They get company, however, when it's time to mate.

• Leopard! Dabi is not the most talkative version of Dabi, he still is a cocky bastard, but he finds it hard to talk to you. So, naturally, when ruts happen, there's no verbal warning. Touya starts playing a little rough with you whenever he feels the need to breed you, pushing and pulling teasingly until he has you where he wants you: couch, bed, chairs, counters, floor...

• Touya often relies on body language to let you know you're his (even when he's not the most affectionate partner). He also has a thing for napping all over your clothes and messing with your stuff (say bye to your food, he'll leave the fridge empty).

• His go-to position is prone bone because of how similar it is to the leopard's mating technique. He bites your neck whenever he's buried deep inside your guts (cat things), groaning and growling whispered "Fucks!" And "Tight!". Regardless of if he can breed you or not, he always stays inside you for a few more moments to avoid his cum to drip out of you.

• His rut lasts around 2 or 3 days, and he can go as many times as he needs until he satiates the itch inside his body. If he somehow knocks you up, you'll have to put that cat on a leash or something, because no feline species stay with their cubs at all. Hates when people pulls his tail.

A wanton moan escapes your lips, feeling Touya sink his teeth into the tender flesh of your thighs. You can see him looking at your face from your angle, legs locked open as he meets your sensitive core with his tongue. "You told me to clean the mess... Don't look at me like that now." The man purrs, licking his lips with a teasing grin. "I'm gonna pull that tail of yours one day, see who's laughing- Oh, fuck!"

"Mhm, you're all talk now. But when I'm breeding you? You seem to be speechless." He murmurs, lapping you once more. "Dumb cat."

"Love you too."

Tagging: @trickster-kat @doumadono @shonen-brainrot @shionancientsblog @dabislittlemouse

[apollothesunrat]

That moment when after weeks of TMNT brainrot, you get hit with sudden Percy Jackson/Heroes of Olympus brainrot and now your thoughts are genderfluid Percy and nonbinary Nico and a hell of a lot of headcanons. Now I'm sharing some.

Thats all my mind is now. Along with gnc Leo who will wear literally anything, Percabeth wearinf matching dresses, Piper and Nico friendship. Percy steals Annabeth's clothes cause they're similar in height and stature due to training. Piper lends Nico some of her clothes wgen Nico first comes out cause Nico is wary about buying their own fem-type clothes at first due to internalized transphobia(this is helped by Will and their friends supporting them unconditionally).

Its all demigods. And Zeus bein a dick, and only calling Percy and Nico he/him. But hey, at least Poseidon and Hades are trying!

Another headcanon, despite Triton claiming to hate his half-sibling he always seems to have a sense as to what pronouns Percy is using whenever he visits Atlantis and he always gets Percy's pronouns right. And whenever Percy switches midday, Amphitrite makes a point to make sure Poseidon knows and doesn't fuck it up. (we need more of Percy getting along with his seafam. Give me nice step-mother Amphitrite and protective half-brother Triton)

I have so many things to say.

Percy, Nico, and Thalia go thrifting together to get new clothes. They choose thrifting cause: 1.None of them like Hot Topic or Spencer's prices or stuff, it just isn't exactly what they like, 2.Thrifting allowing them to also pick up stuff for their friends as well, 3.It's easier to find actual vintage type clothes when thrifting and easier to diy some other clothes they find. All in all, the three of them just find a lot more when thrifting than compared to anywhere else.

Sally hosts monthly Big Three Kid sleepovers and monthly "The Seven + others" sleepovers. She and Paul love having demigods over and have given both of their phone numbers and the home phone number to Chiron incase any Campers(especially Percy's friends)need a quiet/safe space. She sends containers of blue cookies to all of Percy's closest friends on their birthdays.

Clarisse and Percy friendship!! They respect eachother and have friendly spars often. And if they send eachother Birthday and Christmas gifts? No one has to know, it would ruin their rivalry setup! Except everyone knows they do respect eachother.

This is all for now. Might post more headcanons and maybe even drawing later on.

[jukey]

Blue Lock x Reader Headcanons

Hiori x Reader Headcanons + Scenario

Hiori may seem distant at first, but his heart softens around someone special. when he doesn't feel like practicing, he would love spending quality time with you, going on peaceful strolls in the park, hand in hand, sharing gentle smiles and stolen glances.

His reserved exterior melts away whenever you gives him a surprise gift or a heartfelt compliment. His cheeks turn slightly pink, and he bashfully thanks you, trying to hide his growing affection. This would mean the world to him and even if you see this as something small, he would never forget this.

Hiori's idea of a perfect date involves a cozy movie night at home. Snuggled up under a warm blanket, he enjoys romantic films, secretly hoping you notice the subtle similarities between your love story and the ones on screen.

He finds comfort in sharing his deepest fears and dreams with you. Through your support and understanding, Hiori realizes that vulnerability is not a weakness as his parents described, but a path to emotional intimacy.

Despite being a skilled soccer player, Hiori is adorably clumsy in matters of the heart. He might accidentally drop a love note or fumble his words when trying to confess his feelings, making you giggle at his adorable awkwardness.

Hiori's eyes light up when you surprise him with homemade snacks. His heart is won through delicious treats, and he can't help but feel incredibly lucky to have someone who cares for him in such sweet ways.

Playing video games together becomes your favorite bonding activity. It's a way for Hiori to showcase his skills and teach you the tricks of the trade, all the while relishing in the joy of shared laughter and friendly competition.

He becomes an unexpected romantic, planning little surprises like leaving heart-shaped notes in your locker or sending you encouraging messages during the day.

Hiori might be stoic in public, but he becomes quite the cuddler behind closed doors. He loves wrapping his arms around you, feeling your warmth against him as you snuggle together.

At the end of the day, Hiori cherishes the quiet moments of simply being in each other's company. Whether you're watching the sunset or stargazing, he finds contentment in your presence and knows that with you, he's found something special.

"gg"

"im shaving off your eyebrows."

all you could hear were distorted laughs coming out of your headset from the menace who had beaten you four times in a row by now.

"you don't have to let me win every time, you know? let's play fair and square!" hiori said, suppressing a giggle. he knew damn well you were fighting for your life over here and still teased you about it

"that's it. done. play with your e-girlfriend or something, I'm logging off," you dramatically said to him. mouse hovering the 'leave party' button as you waited for him to take it all back and beg for mercy.

"can't, she's busy rn," he snorted when you gasped, almost taking him seriously. soon an uneasy silence filled the voicecall.

"you there? I was joking, you know. i could never replace my one and only teammate," he filled you in. "besides, carrying you in games is much better than letting you do all the work," it would be a lie if you denied that your heart skipped a beat by how soft-spoken he sounded.

"forgiven. I'm not selling your account anymore, mwah!" you blew a kiss through your mic.

"you were what?!1?"

"nothing, nothing let's play again!"

it's safe to say he played a little less extreme for you to win a few games <3

HIORI BRWINROT HIORI BRAINROT

guys plspslspslspl request something

[cosmiiqueer]

replaying mcsm!

i havent touched this game in about 3 years and now im going back through it because i have terrible terrible brainrot

ep 1

-i still had the opening narration memorized oh my god

-THE OLD MINECRAFT TEXTURES DISTRACTED ME SO MUCH absdfkhsh i kept being like :0 old cobblestone texture! when i was supposed to be making choices

-the original oots are all so goofy

-REUBEN, ,, ,, gently holds. baby. protect baby at all costs.

-petra and lukas and their whole thing still make me so insane

-the animation has some really nice little details that i don't remember ever paying attention to before, like jesse's wooden sword breaking in half before poofing. it's a nice blend of minecraft logic and irl logic i think.

-also girl i KNOW you have the materials for a stone sword! you cannot convince me that wooden sword is your best option

-i played mcsm on a tablet in ye olde days, and even though i have played it on a computer before, im not fucking good at it !!! kept almost missing or fully missing arrows and embarrassing myself lmao

-i forgot how unnecessarily STACKED the va cast is like. matt mercer how did you get here

-i love ivor i love ivor so much he is so dramatic

-"ashley johnson sounds like she's trying really hard to sound cool" -my partner. ohhhh he's right. she does.

-i don't actually ship jesstra (kind of over shipping in general) but jesse having a huge dumbass crush on petra is a headcanon i still enjoy. she's silly.

-yes i always play as fem jesse i simply cannot handle oswald's voice for long stretches of time

-I LOVE THE MUSIC SO MUCH, ,, I REALLY MISSED IT. it's so GOOD. i love how many characters and things have their distinct themes, i love how it sounds similar to minecraft music, i'm just literally obsessed with it. ep 1 alone doesn't really have tracks that i go specifically insane over (thats more in s2) but boy does it have some iconic ones. like look me in the eyes and tell me ivor's theme isn't iconic. you can't.

-like i forgot how melancholic the order's temple track is?? that one gave me the most intense 'im still fourteen playing this game for the first time' feeling that i really wasn't expecting

-who in the ocelots had the legit redstone knowledge to make a working rainbow beacon. which one. i need to know.

-truly love the moment of lukas being like "if you're cool with petra, you're cool with us :D" while the other three are standing behind him, VISIBLY not cool with you. peak comedy.

-axel and olivia are the funniest bitches here. some of the jokes fall pretty flat but they definitely have the most lines that do make me laugh

-lukas and axel are such highschool mean girls to each other. calm down.

-heading to Boomtown because i literally don't remember a thing about it lmao

-i still love this game a lot. i stopped hyperfixating on it around 2019-2020, and replaying it back in 2021 didn't rekindle the intense interest i used to have in it. but god, i missed it a lot. i think it's really fun to rediscover something you used to love so much and i'm looking forward to continuing when i have time

[jalactic]

ok so moonfish is like one of my favorite bnha characters and I'm genuinely so surprised someone else has brainrot for him. can u tell me some thought you have on him...... like what do you think hes like?

I've always had a theory that his quirk makes him only capable of eating humans. that he's been starved so much and for so long that he's gone insane over flesh and hunger. that fits really well with the themes of shiggys squad. what do you think is the reason for his insanity snd cannibalism?

HELLO HELLO i've been crazy busy, but every so often i open tumblr and stare gleefully at this ask. and now i can finally answer it!

From what I remember of MHA canon, Moonfish had made a pretty big name for himself in the villain world up to and beyond his first imprisonment. We can assume he possesses some degree of survival skill/intellectual capability, to the point where he's become so serious of a threat that death row is warranted. Even during Moonfish's intro at the training camp raid Bakugo and Todoroki comment on his use of terrain and how "he's clearly been in a lot of battles".

An aside: Ultra Archive initially rates Moonfish's intelligence as a 3/5 while Ultra Analysis later gives him a 1/5 :((( they revoked his braincells...

He probably CAN eat other things aside from people; they had to keep him alive in Tartarus for a while, and feeding the guy on death row Human Meat wouldn't be very ethical (not that the heroes have outstanding moral judgement anyway). From what we've seen of his body he looks to be in decent shape so they're not starving him either.

It's true that most of the LoV have quirks that influence their personalities/behavior (ex: Toga, Twice, possibly Muscular to an extent?), so Moonfish is likely in a similar situation. I'm not going to speculate on the details of his mental illness--my interpretation of him is largely based on my own experiences. Maybe the hunger is episodic, or maybe it wasn't as bad a few years ago or when he was younger and is now just spiraling. Maybe it's a stress-eating kind of thing. I think he never had access to the necessary resources/professional help/therapy/idk to help him navigate his quirk, and now it's "too late" and he's "beyond saving".

I suppose he's so loyal to the LoV simply because they respect him, more or less, as a person and a teammate. He's fixated with "doing his job" because that job lets him belong somewhere.

This is definitely outside the scope of BNHA main series but I like thinking about a little future for him, where he sort of drops off the radar and goes somewhere quiet and just, learns to live with himself.

I have loads more headcanons; if you're curious, just ask! Thank you for giving me an opportunity to wax poetic about my guy lol

[yuri-is-online]

Hi Yuri! I hope you are doing well<333 I really enjoy reading your writing and I am always more fond of reading the little octatrio fish gang! I dont really know how this usually works because I never send in any asks at all nor do I see your rules list or anything but if you dont mind I would like to make a request<3

A mc who finds an out of tune and old piano and fondly remembers that they used to play piano back in their world. And perhaps Azul hears in on this and despite the piano being old and out of tune, it is rather beautiful how you play it because of how imperfect the notes are being played out. (SORRY I WAS LISTENING TO FALLEN DOWN AND THE FEELINGS WERE JUST SURGING AND THE BRAINROT WAS TOO MUCH)

You dont have to force yourself or anything! Please take care and dont feel too pressured! <3

The Most Romantic of All Arts (Azul Ashengrotto x Yuu)

Hello dear friend and I am doing quite well thank you! I'm pleased you like my writing; the octotrio is what finally cracked my resolve to check out Twisted Wonderland and put FGO on the back burner so I suppose I shouldn't beat myself up too much for writing about them so much. I am sorry I caused you stress with my lack of rules, I don't usually send requests or asks myself, so I felt really bad to have frightened you. Not too sure if this will end up being what you had in mind, it got away from me a bit.

Also when you say Fallen Down, you do mean the Undertale soundtrack piece right? It's a soothing song I listened to it while I was plotting this to try and get into a similar headspace.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, header taken from the painting Spirit by George Roux (1885) which I found on this wordpres blog article I took the title from, it's a neat painting, Azul learning to find beauty and love in imperfections is important to me ok? Other works can be found on my masterlist here.

Sometimes you wonder if Ramshakle is sentient. The old building has more rooms than you know what to do with, and lovely as the ghosts are they don't fully remember what they were used for, if they remembered in the first place. But still there was something about those rooms that seemed to love you; he guest room almost built itself up around you, the kitchen had only needed some basic repairs before it was ready to help play host again, and no matter where a fire place was found it was always eager to burst to life and warm you and Grim.

It does not have the same love for Azul, he'd complained as much when you talked about just what it was he wanted with the building after the events of his overblot had cooled between you.

"It's got a graveyard in front of it, though?" That really had been the crux of your whole argument. It was hard to be annoyed with his laugh when it sounded so nice, the genuine amusement a refreshing difference to his previous performitive indifference.

"Yes," he muses, sipping at his real before he continues, "I'm not bothered by that much, ghosts and grave ships aren't uncommon sights under the sea, but I always forget how unusual humans think they are."

"There's a lot of superstitions about places where people are buried." You mean it as an explanation, but it brings an odd look to Azul's face, like there's an emotion bubbling beneath his surface he doesn't want to acknowledge but is too strong to suppress. It settles over you both, as you try to focus on drinking your tea while your host seems content to let his grow cold.

"Well, I suppose it's a good thing that ruin isn't really sentient." He sounds almost bitter, disappointed in how long he has let his drink cool you decide as he reaches for the pot and warms it with some fresh tea. "Otherwise, I'd accuse it of trying to keep you."

It's a silly thought, but the sight of this latest discovery really does have you wondering. You are supposed to be in that wonderfully accommodating kitchen making snacks for when Azul decides to "coincidentally drop by" later this evening to "go over the Lounge's expenses" in your guest room. On a Tuesday. When it was almost guaranteed business would be slow enough to keep anyone from wondering too hard about where he'd gone or the twins from being too upset about running things. But instead of "just wanting to try" a new recipe, you are here, tucked in a room just a bit further down the hall from the guest room watching Grim give his best impression of Ace after completing a magic trick. Because stars know he has never seen any other magicians.

"TA-DA!" He puts both of his paws out to really sell the piano at the window. "See, I told you I had a great surprise!"

"I'm sorry for not believing you." You say and try not to laugh with just how much more proud that seems to make him. "But where did you find this? Or how I guess, unless you moved it?"

"Nah." He shakes his head before remembering he's supposed to be the "great" Grim. "I mean I could have! But I'm just so cool I managed to find a piano here already, so all I had to do was clean it up instead! You're welcome henchuman." You scratch just behind his ears and politely ignore his purrs as you examine the piano and its bench. They're old, likely just as ancient as everything else in the dormitory and likely extremely, achingly out of tune. But the mere sight of it makes your fingers itch, and Grim barely has to whine "Well ain't you gonna play somethin'?" Before you're at the bench, experimentally pressing the keys to try and sound out something.

Twinkle twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are-

You hum it rather than sing, irrationally worried Grim will somehow figure out it's a lullaby and complain that you're babying him instead of cutely dancing along with the music like it's one of the cassettes Deuce let you borrow. He cheers for another, and you oblige, letting your muscle memory carry you as far as it can as you try searching your brain for just what it was you wanted most to hear from yourself after all this time being unable to play.

And missing the click of a heavy door down the hall in the effort.

Azul hears nothing at first, and though it does disappoint, it does not bother him. He's had a long day, one about to be made longer still by the grey zone already draping itself around his thoughts as he shrugs his blazer off to his shoulders while en route to the Ramshackle guest room. He pauses, for what he tells himself is only going to be second, at the kitchen door and is left unrewarded for his detour.

You aren't there: and that does bother him somewhat, even if it should not if his pretext is to be believed. These visits were too commonplace to be random, but maybe you'd made plans, deciding not to look past his excuses for the evening. Maybe you were asleep, tired of the day or just plain tired of him. But there is a kettle sat on it's base, mercifully not on just yet, but two mugs and the pour over cone set next to as if it was expecting company. The nerves remain knotted in his stomach, though the cause shifts towards something more welcome.

So you do have a mug purposefully set aside and designated just for him, and is that a little recpie card with notes on coffee taped to that tin? These things should worry him, the picture he snaps and immediately hides in a folder should be for a purpose. But it's separate from those ones, labeled something inane and barely full with how careful he is to have his longing remain unseen. He wonders, briefly if it would be an intrusion to make the drinks himself. If it would reveal to much to show outright he knows the way you take yours instead of just saying it in time with your order, but knows that would not be the exact issue here. He is a guest, and guests limit themselves to the halls and that room he forces himself, with haste that would be noticeable if you were there to see it, back down the hall and back towards the guest room. Azul has work to do, he can content himself with the warmth the mental image the cups on the counter produces until something forces him to pause at a door once more. The piano is old, droning out a tune that is unpolished and rusty from the player's lack of practice but filled with such a specific sort of joy it has him actually running towards it.

You sit at the bench, a serious look of determination on your face so unlike the usual Yuu it can't help but be cute. Grim sleeps contentedly on your lap as you continue searching for the threads of melody still trapped inside your head from years of only occasionally reluctant practice. It's an unfamiliar tune in composition, but not in feel. There's words to this song, maybe not in the form of lyrics, but there all the same for him to stumble even closer to as he comes to a halting stop just behind you and the music ends in a surprised crash as you whip your head around to see him.

"Azul!"

"Very sorry to interrupt." He holds up both hands in surrender, composure only just maintained as you check to see Grim still asleep and laugh nervously. "I didn't know you could play."

"Can't really." You say somewhat bitterly and more confidence comes to Azul as a slight plan froms in his mind. "I'm really out of practice ugh. I know it shouldn't annoy me! But with how everything's been since I showed up, it's just not been on my mi- Oh hello?"

Azul fully removes his jacket and sets it on a side table close to where he had been satanding, moving to sit on the bench next to you. He has enough mercy not to loosen his tie or do anything else scandalous, but the close examination he gives to the keys could have fooled you. "Pity it's so out of tune, this is a nice piano."

"I know right! I'm really happy Grim found it." You resist the urge to poke his cheeks some and Azul lightly, trying not to too openly relish in your surprise reaches one arm around your back to place his hands into a similar position as you had been earlier, tucking you close to his side.

"May I?" He's smug. Too smug it's robbing you of sanity.

"What's it going to cost?" You try too hard not to sound like you're flailing as you look to see your question hasn't even phased him at all.

"Oh normally I wouldn't dream of charging for a performance," he clearly lies "but it's been such a long day I wouldn't say no to a cup of coffee." And he's off, music only marred by the off key of the piano in a clearly purposeful display of talent meant to sear itself into your mind enough that you don't think about his request too long. You and he are from two different worlds, but he knows that music has a way of gapping that if the stories of the mermaid princess told him anything at all. So when he purposefully slows the song at its end, he knows you know, that tricky smile he swore once he'd always hate kicking his heartbeat up again as you lean fully against his shoulder.

"Beautiful." You say, not bothering to give the compliment direction as he can't help but agree. "We should play together next time."

"I-" You pick yourself up and what he wants to say slows when you pick up his jacket for him and hold out a hand. Later, he all to easily decides. Later, without Grim and with specific time set purposefully aside so you know just how much it matters. "I would like that. You'll have to show me the songs that you can remember from your world." And he takes your hand just to soothe some of the ache, trying and failing not to show just how happy he is when you keep it.

[natasha-in-space]

Hi Natasha!! I feel like I disappeared and just... never came back lol

Though I'm here to request! This time for Saeran :o

Seeing as I'm planning on starting Ray route soon, could we have a story about Saeran finally being able to confide within you after ages of ignoring his own feelings? I'd imagine that the MC would pry it out of him after noticing he's been acting odd lately. You could take a school setting or canon setting; whatevers easier!

Or, if that doesn't make sense, you could write something about Ray breaking down over feeling helpless; where he thinks that he doesn't do enough/isn't enough for MC.

Or... you could combine the two ideas and write the whole story about Saeran.

SO sorry if this confused you. Ignore it if it did! its completely fine :3

Hi-Hi, lovely to see you back!! <3 I decided to go with SE Saeran for this one, both because I'm currently in my SE Saeran brainrot and because this seems fitting for him. Good luck on your Ray route playthrough! Make sure to have lots of tissues nearby, because you're about to go on a very wild ride of emotions. Also, for future notice, my name's Mia! Natasha is the name of my OC (dw it's kinda a common thing with my url but I don't wanna change it at this point xD)

"...We all know that something is wrong, you know."

Saeran doesn't pay attention to you while you carefully make your presence known by shuffles of your feet against the floor. You are aware that he heard you. He just doesn't say nor do anything to show it. And that worries you.

Saeran was always the quiet, closed-off type. Not like you could blame him, considering all he had to go through. Similar to a feral cat, you've always respected his silent need for space and freedom. If he wanted to talk, he would talk. If he had a desire to spend time with you, he would approach you on his own. You simply demonstrated your desire to be close to him, so that he would know that you wanted him near you.

But... Even you could sense that something wasn't right today. Saeyoung felt it almost immediately, whether it was thanks to their inherent twin connection or his natural tendency to worry about his younger brother. However, just because Saeyoung knew something was wrong doesn't mean he can do anything about it, unless Saeran openly allows him to.

And he was definitely not doing that.

You had to rush down to the kitchen because you heard the sound of glass breaking, and then Saeran shouting. Upon your arrival, the younger twin had already left the room, only giving you a quick unfocused glance before pushing past you. Thankfully, no one was hurt. You talked with Saeyoung in hushed voices as you both cleaned up the broken shards, offering him some comfort in the process. Although you were concerned about Saeran, Saeyoung was equally important to you. Whenever those kinds of incidents happened, his well-being was just as important. Even if he often refuses to acknowledge it.

It seems that Saeran must have cut himself while preparing dinner, and somehow, this turned into an outburst once Saeyoung became worried and tried to help. Both of you acknowledged that there is a deeper issue at play here. Something underlying right under the surface. And it was probably something very unpleasant.

In the end, you both agreed to have you go and attempt to speak with Saeran. Since you weren't present during the entire scene. So, now here you were, silently standing over the younger twin as he sat on the couch, his back turned to you. It hurt your heart to see him hunched over like that, almost like he was curling in on himself. The position didn't appear to be comfortable to be in.

"Saeran, please... tell me what's wrong. I can see you are in pain." Your voice is soft and quiet. You don't want to accidentally push him away. You slowly take a seat on the edge of the couch, a small distance away from him to give him space to breathe and not get overwhelmed.

He shifts ever so slightly, a jerky movement leaving him with a shaky breath. It was probably supposed to be a huff, but it was far too weak to sound like one.

"...I'm fine."

You sigh. "You're not. Look... You don't have to tell me everything, ok? But, I can see that you are in pain, and I want to help you. So... just tell me what you need. I won't ask for anything more."

That seemed to reassure him just a little bit, judging by the way his shoulders lowered, and he paused, possibly thinking over your request. You didn't say anything, only allowing him to do this at his own pace.

At last, there was a reply.

But instead of verbalizing, he just shifts to sit up on the couch and turns over to you. He doesn't look at you, but quietly pulls out his hand and shows it to you. His palm is caked with relatively fresh blood, a decently sized cut being the source of the red substance painting over his skin. It wasn't anything serious by any means, but it sure looked painful.

However... something told you it wasn't the cut that bothered him. Saeran refused to examine his hand. His head was turned away, and his red bangs were falling over his eyes, making it difficult for you to see his face. But, his lips were pressed together into a thin, tense line. You also couldn't help but notice the ungodly tremble in his hands. They were shaking violently. In a way that clearly showed distress without saying a word.

You carefully grasped his wrist, inspecting the cut. Most of the bloody mess was caused by him smearing the blood over his palm, and it didn't seem as bad as you thought at first. Gently rubbing your thumb over his wrist, you pulled away. "I'll clean it up for you, ok? Just wait here."

He didn't respond, but he did give you a brief nod. You now have all the green light you needed.

Saeran hadn't said a word to you until you wrapped a clean gauze over his palm and gently patted his arm to let him know that you were done. The cautiousness with which he turned to look at his hand was unmistakable. Almost like he was sure he'll see something utterly horrifying in its place. The shaky sigh of relief he did let out, though, made you smile. He flexed his hand a bit and turned it around to look over it fully.

"...Thank you."

The murmur was both quiet and soft. Genuine. His mint eyes were filled with earnest gratitude when he looked at you, and that was all you needed. You merely smiled, giving him a nod. "Of course. Do you feel better now?"

Another nod.

"That's wonderful. I'll go put away the medkit, and-"

"-Wait."

As he grasped at your sleeve, you stopped and turned around to look at him. Once again, his face was turned away from you, but this time it was a far more bashful gesture than a distressed one. You weren't completely sure, but you thought you could see a hint of pink dusting over his cheeks.

Saeran breathed a sigh, almost like he was preparing himself before saying anything. Then, he pulled you back a little bit. "...Stay. Please."

There was no need for you to hear anything else.

And so, that's how you ended up holding him close as you both huddled up on the couch, your chin resting on top of his head as he buried his face in your chest. For a while, only the sounds of your shared breaths filled the space. You promised him you wouldn't ask for anything, and you were not about to go back on that promise.

Saeran was the one who spoke up.

"Is... Hyung alright?"

Humming, you raised your hand to run your fingers through his unruly hair. The main purpose is to keep him calm and relaxed. "He's okay. Very worried about you, though."

Saeran tenses a bit, but then sighs heavily, almost in defeat. You bite back on the desire to push him for answers.

"I... didn't mean to scream at him like that. I just-"

A shaky breath. You squeeze him a bit tighter, your other hand rubbing soothing circles on his back.

"You don't have to say anything you don't want to say, Saeran. None of us blame you."

"-You should."

It was up to you to be the one to sigh now.

"Saeran..."

He shakes his head, but his grip on you tightens, his voice becoming shakier by the moment. It seemed as though he was engaged in a mental battle with himself. It hurt you to be unable to do anything but just hold him and let him talk.

"You know why I started screeching at him for no reason? There must be some rational explanation, right? That's what you think. Well, there isn't. I-" Another shaky breath. The sound of this one was almost like a sob. Your heart started pounding in your chest with anxiety. "I cut my hand on the knife, and just the sight of blood on my hands set me off. I threw a glass bowl at my brother because of a fucking cut on my hand."

You didn't answer right away. Gathering your thoughts and emotions is definitely necessary before you proceed and say something you might regret later. You should be careful here.

So that's what happened... Now that you thought about it, the sight of blood did always make Saeran very uncomfortable. But, to see it coating his hands... Well, you didn't have to guess for long. All three of you were aware of what actually occurred to V on that day.

And what a heavy burden Saeran had to carry with him for the rest of his life.

"Oh... Saeran..."

"-Just-" At this point, it was clear that he was crying. His entire body was shaking with silent sobs as he pressed himself further into you, almost like he was trying to hide from the world in your embrace. "Just hold me. Please. I- I feel so sick..."

So you do. Without uttering a single word. Holding him is what you do. You will have a proper conversation about it once he lets it all out.

Until then, you will be there for him to be his support.

[breakoutime]

Whaddup! I'm glad to see that you enjoy the drawings I've done so far! Chronos has been a major brainrot for me lately so lmao glad to see that I'm not the only one who is just brain rotting over that stupid time gilf! If it isn't much, May I request Chronos getting grabbed and fucked senseless by a bunch of tentacles? (I want this smug old timer being humiliated and fucked so badly)

OMG HI- I NEED TO ADMIT THAT IF IT WASNT FOR UR ART I WOUDNT HAVE FELT BRAVE ENOUGH TO SHARE MY BRAINROT TOO, THANK YOU ILU

Anyway! this is like, set after chronos took over the house of hades and before the events of Hades II. Wanted to do something special for the tentacles other than the seamonster, so I had to get creative haha!

It's been a while since I wrote some smut, but I hope this is good enough :3

(I really enjoyed writing this, thanks for the wonderfully dirty request)

Being at the wrong place, at the wrong time.

Chronos x Erebus/Tentacles

Warnings: Non-con, Dub-con, Tetatrofilia, Humiliation, Pleasure torture.

Other Tags: Groping, Overstimulation, Bondage, An old man getting fucked?

Chronos basqued in the victory of his dominion over the house of Hades. A deep sense of satisfaction coursed through him as he watched with pride the renovations of the soon to be called “House of Chronos”. His bratty son, Hades, was put in his place by chains, helpless to stop him as he regained his rightful place… Chronos felt great pride in the fact that his plan was going smoothly. 

Though he made it all look so easy, it had not been easy at all. Even with the sacrifices and the worship of his cult, despite regaining his form and rebuilding himself, his energy and power still needed some time before coming completely back to him. He had gathered just the right amount of energy to capture the chthonic gods and subjugate his son, and so he had been admittedly drained for the first months of his victory.

But as time passed and all kept going exactly how he had planned, Chronos was growing arrogant. Tartarus was already turning into a beautiful machine, all golden gears and ticking sounds around him, the gold he so loved adorning everything he deemed worthy. But what about the other layers of the underworld? Chronos wanted to make sure that all of the layers knew and recognized him as their new ruler. After all, wasn't his own cult on the entrance of the underworld what brought Hades’ downfall? He couldn't allow a similar cult to form under his new rule. So, he set his eyes on the rest of the underworld, one particular area catching his attention the most. 

Erebus.

Since he gained control of the underworld, Erebus became unruly. As if it was a living organism, the chambers that his son had once established were coming apart, slowly growing its own nature and taking their own shape. He couldn't have that, of course. After all, wasn't Erebus a place where shades arrived to wait? He was the new ruler of the underworld and time himself. This place should bend to his will, and despite still recovering from his revival, Chronos felt very confident he could tame the beast that Erebus was becoming. 

…

Perhaps now, he might have regretted that decision. For he was now lost, no matter what he did in this realm, he found himself wandering unable to bend this place to his will, and worse, unable to find his way *out*. Angrily he swung his scythe to whatever he could, breaking the columns that were in the process of being reclaimed by vines or cutting short the lives of trees that were just beginning to sprout between the floor slabs and exposing the soil underneath. It might look petty, but everything here was born of darkness, the very essence of Erebus. He knew that soon enough he would provoke a reaction from the realm, knowing that at some point a manifestation of Erebus itself would come and confront him. That's when he would dominate and control this place. 

A smug smirk appeared on his lips when after all his wandering, he was sure he found something that showed progress. As he passed through the forming cracks of the old walls of Erebus, breaking and cutting down what he needed to make a dignified trail, he encountered something. 

It looked like a pit. A pit so dark that it seemed endless, the light practically swallowed by its mere presence. 

“Ah. There it is.” He said as he floated towards it. He didn't once set foot down on this dirty place, deeming it unworthy yet of his touch. “So Erebus is finally making a real appearance, hm? Good. It's time I showed you who is in charge now.” With a wave of his hand, he tried to freeze this manifestation of Erebus in time, but it didn't work. “Hmmm…” Perhaps since Erebus was something both of a place and a living thing, it was not as simple as freezing it in time like the other chthonic beings. Besides, he was seeing what he assumed to be a hole- a dark void on the ground, maybe it was a gateway?

He tested first by dipping his cane into it. And before he could react, something took hold of it, janking it and himself inside this void. The next moment all Chronos could see was darkness. He couldn't even see his hands in front of him. Snarling, he transformed his cane into his scythe again- but this time that something had grabbed him, squeezing first the wrist of his hand holding the scythe, another unseen appendage janking it away from his hold, leaving him unarmed. “How dare you-!” another appendage wrapped around his other hand, and despite being unable to see it, he could feel it. It was some sort of tentacle, cold and smooth. He trashed and attempted to get away, but the darkness around him was powerful. It refused to let go. One tentacle wrapped around both his legs, leaving him inmobile, his wings attempting to move and even flap to attack the offending appendages fruitlessly. 

It was now that he realized he should have waited to regain his full power before attempting such a thing. And now, he was worried that he would pay the price. He cursed at himself, his own hubris bringing him low, being captured like a fly on a web. As he tried to look around himself, all he could see was the darkness around him. No escape routes. No matter, he was time himself. He couldn't be killed, and he couldn't be captured forever like this. But he squirmed and growled as he felt another tentacle touch him, tracing the line of his spine, as if it was looking for the place where his wings connected to it. He shuddered, which encouraged the tentacle. “W-what are you…?” She said through gritted teeth as more joined, a couple running through his hair, another experimentally wrapping around his neck, and a couple exploring his chest and arms. A new feeling flared for Chronos. 

Pure, humiliating and unwanted *arousal*.

It was now that he realized that he was not only vulnerable and at the mercy of Erebus, but also, ever since his reforming he had not been even touched by anyone. He had no idea his body was this sensitive after being remade. A new panic set in, as he began to writhe with more desperation as the tentacles began to get more mischievous. One of the tentacles exploring his chest brushed against a nipple, making him buck and writhe as a strained groan escaped him, a blush forming in his face. Experimentally the tentacle continued, now one tracing the form of his buttocks, and one tentacle poking gently the inside of his ear. 

His legs squeezed together, trying to hide the growing arousal and limit the tentacles wandering. “S-stop! Stop this instant! I'm your master, you can’t-” His words were caught short as a tentacle entered his mouth. The void of tentacles did not speak, but Chronos could sense its intentions. It didn't care for his demands nor his complaints. He could sense as if it was curious, and even delighted to have a plaything in its clutches. He tried to bite down on it, but the tentacles did not even react, exploring his mouth deeper and deeper. It seemed to relish on his temperature, he was warm compared to its own cold darkness. The only thing that could be felt in this dark endless void was both their touch and the sounds he made. Erebus liked it. He wanted to hear more, to feel more. To have him at his mercy. To show him he was no master of Erebus. 

With horror Chronos realized that a couple of tentacles began to explore his legs, wrapping around his thighs and caressing them, making him shiver and swallow up a moan. A couple of tentacles decided to focus on his nipples as he tried for dear life to keep his legs squeezed together. Another tentacle found his belly button and attempted to enter it, making him convulse for a second out of the strange ticklish sensation that jolted through him. Sweat formed in his brow as he realized the tentacles were looking for more holes to explore, not satisfied with gagging him alone. “Hmmm! Hmm- mmmn!” He furtively complained as one tentacle managed to undo his loincloth, now exposing him completely. There was a pause, despite the darkness Chronos knew that he was erect despite how much he tried to escape and deny this, the pause stretching as if Erebus was taking a moment to appreciate his naked form and drink up his humiliation. An undignified whimper escaped him when a single tentacle wrapped around the base of his cock, a deep shame taking over him as he realized how his body was betraying him, making him enjoy this violation. He thrashed, his energy waning as he was beginning to tire himself out. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get a hand or a leg free. Slowly, oh so slowly, the tentacle on his cock began to stroke it, from the base up to the tip and again down. Slowly, as if taunting him, the tentacle makes sure to swirl on his tip before continuing its ministrations, forcing a low moan to leave Chronos. 

Chronos could not even begin to pull himself together before the rest of the tentacles joined in again. He could do nothing but cry into the darkness as he was being both stroked and teased. To his horror a couple of tentacles wrapped around each knee, the one holding his legs together releasing him so that the others could pull his legs apart. He shook his head violently, the muffled sounds of pleas and whimpers heard as his legs parted despite his protests. 

He felt tears swell in the corners of his eyes, he never before felt this shame, especially since his cock was dripping precum, which was now passing around his balls, down his taint, and reaching his clenched asshole. Trying to find even a modicum of a good thing, he found himself glad that he couldn't see himself in this pathetic position, the darkness at the very least keeping this private. But it also meant that he couldn't see anything else the being was planning. The tentacle on his mouth slowly pulled out, making him cough as spit saliva as his mouth was free. He struggled too tall for a moment. 

“Enough of this. Release me now and I will be merciful when I punish you for this transgression.” He tried to say as evenly as possible, trying to regain control and his dignity. The only answer he got from Erebus was feeling a cold- this time slimy- tentacle touching his taint, making him flinch and gasp. “N-no! I said no! Hnnnnnghh-'' He couldn't help but moan as the tentacle began to tease his puckered entrance, making him convulse in place and make sounds he was definitely not proud of. The tentacle began to prod inside, forcing the tight sphincter to open up, its slimy nature making this a lot easier, but it's cold temperature made him shiver and even whine. “H-how d-d-d-dare you….” He managed to say, his voice trembling as he realized this creature had released his month only to hear him moan as he got penetrated. He never thought something from the underworld could be this depraved. He tried to quiet himself and not give Erebus the satisfaction of hearing his grunts and moans, but the tentacle was going deeper and deeper, the stretch beginning to hurt slightly. “Mmmmmmngh- AH∿!” A surprised moan escaped him, when the tentacle found his prostate. He began to writhe again, unable to accept that this was happening. But he quickly went still when it rubbed against that spot again…

And again and again.

He lowered his head- was he even floating face up or face down? he couldn't tell up from down in here- closing his eyes tightly as he gritted his teeth. It was a sign of submission. Chronos never thought that being defiled this way would feel so good. He loved it- he hated it. Again he became aware of the tentacles on the rest of his body, making him sob. It was beginning to be too much. “Hnnnnn! Too much- It's too much-!” Again a tentacle invaded his mouth, making it impossible to even plead. How cruel. The tentacles in his mouth, cock and rectum were now moving in sync. He could feel his eyes crossing as his orgasm was close- oh so close. A part of himself told him that orgasming would be disgraceful- the other couldn't care less. 

Two tentacles were on each nipple, swirling and massaging the little peaks, a couple would run up and down his chest and back, simulating a lover's caress. One gently applied pressure on his neck, and some more were squeezing and caressing his thighs. If this had been consensual he would have called it worship, but he knew better. Erebus had the control, and Chronos had clearly been reduced to little more than a plaything. He was being humiliated and forced to enjoy it. The tentacles began to stroke him faster, rubbing more insistently his prostate as the one in his mouth moved deeper. Chronos was a mess of whimpers, moans and cries, his body beginning to spasms as he became overwhelmed by all the stimulation. He desperately tried to buck his hips- anything to release the tension that was building, but he barely wiggled as finally, he got over the edge. 

“HNNNN∿! MMMH∿! MMMGHNNN∿!” He uselessly babbled as his orgasm washed over him, the tentacles not stopping for a second, making him ride it as hard as possible. His body spasmed useless as his eyes rolled slightly to the back of his head, he was sure he felt the tentacle in his mouth twitch too, but he could barely register the fact that it was actually cumming too, depositing something deep into his stomach. The tentacle continued its assault until his cries became high pitched. Now he truly felt overstimulated. Not pulling away, all of the tentacles stopped, leaving chronos still and breathing heavily through his nose. He felt so drained, but at least this was over, he needed to get back into tartarus and- “Hmmm!!??” The break was over, and the tentacles resumed their assault, not giving him really enough time to recover himself. If his mouth was free he would be openly crying and pleading for mercy, the pleasure being too intense in his overstimulated post orgasmic state. For a bit, time himself lost track of time. Erebus forced orgasm after orgasm out of him until he passed out. 

… He later would wake up miraculously at the edge of Erebus, his body cast out like a used toy. His body was sore but with a shameful satisfied buzz going through it. As he tried to stand he could see his legs shaking, his entrance was definitely leaking something and he felt his stomach oddly heavy- As he got into full height he couldn't help but barf. Darkness. Erebus had ejaculated darkness into him. He groaned.  “Blood and darkness.” Rarely the Titan of time would curse, but this time he allowed himself the simple act. One thing was clear. He wouldn't be delving into Erebus again anytime soon.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Keep requesting from different people with no luck but what if jason voorhees had a S/O who reads to him when he's "sleeping" in the lake and he has dreams about the story and has a dream of him and the reader as beauty and the beast?

Reading B&B to Jason + Dream stuff!

while this isnt a slasher blog and i am grossly underqualified to speak of anything book related to beauty and the beast, i truly do love this idea + i really felt the whole request thing </3 this aint perfect but i hope you enjoy it regardless! may your other/future requests be answered someday! !!!quick note, admins only exposure to beauty and the beast is the original disney film, they have never read any renditions of it so theyre going off the basic bare bones concept not proof read, i am literally belting this out before i gotta bake an order </3

I could be silly, i could make him dream of himself as the beauty as opposed to being the beast, but im not 100% sure how i would go about writing that.... perhaps ill save that for the next time my slasher brainrot strikes me

i think he would love that you read for him, small little act that helps heal that inner child inside him + it reminds him of how his mom used to read to him at night. its almost bittersweet... im torn on whether or not pam would've read him beauty and the beast/similar adjacent tales. I admit, I'm not sure how many renditions of the story there are, and which ones were around when Jason was a kid but lets say, for convivence lets say she didnt

whenever you read to him hes hooked on every word you say, head in your lap and looking up at you with this sort of sparkle in his eye. loves it when you put on goofy voices for different characters. generally a very calm and peaceful moment between the two of you

so imagine offering to read the story to him, and he is just. totally immersed. even before he falls asleep he sees the parallels between the book and you, bonus if you somehow find a way to show him the disney movie of it

as for the dreams, naturally he's in the beasts position. solitary and secluded away from others, and self admittedly from the man himself, a sight for sore eyes (no matter how much some may disagree), and you as the beauty (not that much changes in the dream, he already sees you as something radiant)

the first time he has the dream he doesnt really say anything about it, actually he doesnt remember most of the dream thanks to him nearly forgetting everything that second he wakes up

but the dream keeps happening, even long after you first read the story to him, and each night he seems to be able to piece everything together

you wander into his home, and he keeps you. protects you, actually. the events of your arrival in the dream are blurred, but seem to line up with how you first entered his life.

theres no talking furniture, unfortunately

however i do wanna say theres talking animals in their place

nature boy

actually, jason doesnt seem to be a prince in his dreams, just a simple man

hes not even a physical monster in his dreams.

but unlike the disney adaptation, when the whole... breaking the curse thing happens, there is no transformation. so hey, theres that at least

he eventually talks to you about it, sheepishly signing the details to you as he tries to not seem embarrassed about it. but he cant help but to get giddy when he sees your smile

"aww you dream about me?" is a comment sure to make his signing pause for a second before he covers his hands over his mask

i wish i had more for this but im on a bit of a time crunch atm and as stated in the authors note my only exposure is the disney film and SOBS

you (making sure hes okay with the nickname first, obviously) playfully call him beast, and he starts calling you beauty

the story eventually kind of becomes you guys' thing, like how some couples have their song or their movie or their whatever