#and they rip it all down all the ugliness laid bare

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Late Night

Pairing: Dark Hawks x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female Reader

SUMMARY: Keigo hates threatning you - only when necessary.

WARNINGS: Implied Kidnapping; Threats.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

–

"Hey, c'mon, don't cry..." 

He tries, tentatively reaching with a hand but instantly stopping at the abrupt increase of your sobbing. 

"Y/n? Babe, pretty please..." he sighs, rubbing his tired eyes, "Let's just go to sleep, yeah? It’s getting late and I have to wake early tomorrow."

"Leave me alone." you howl the words out, as if you're a wounded dog. You feel like one, to be fair. Bunched up in a corner of this huge room, face contorted as you cry ugly tears and snot. 

It's only been a week since you were taken from the comfort of your life, and you still can't stop the aching pain that burns your heart whenever you think about it. 

During the day, it’s slightly more manageable to pretend that it’s fine, that you’ll eventually escape him, that everything will be fine.

But as soon as the dark cast of the night hits, it’s like all the overwhelming weight of sad reality starts to wear you down. 

You’re so tired of him. You just wanna go home and hide underneath the safety of your blankets. 

“Babe….”

Keigo sighs once again, leaning back at the adjacent beige wall as he runs his fingers through the blonde hair. 

"Hate to ask, but any chance you can speed this up? Not to the part where you relentlessly beg to go home, to which I'll say no - obviously." Keigo says with such normality as if he’s asking you to turn the lights off.

"Also not the part where you cry your pretty eyes out for another 20 minutes, yell shitty things, threaten me, and so goes on…”

You gulp, with a new batch of tears forming as he tilts his head to the side, lips curling into a half-smile as if your despair amuses him. 

“... but yes to the part where you finally shut up with the hysteria and we go to bed.”

You tearfully glare at him, indignation flaring up at his nonchalant words. 

“I hate you. You kidnapped me!" you continue, half-choking in your own tears, hoping the hatred and anger in your face is enough to show him just how much you hate him. “I hate you!” 

Keigo dismissively shrugs his shoulders, despite the new tension in his jaw as he glances at his wrist watch. 

“I’m not the bad guy here, babe.” 

“You-” 

“If I was the bad guy…” he interrupts you, an unpleasant glint in his eyes showing that deep your words didn’t sit right with him. “...right now I’d be punching a hole into your pretty face for being such a brat. Or maybe I’d be ripping your tongue out with my bare hands, so you won’t speak bullshit like that. Maybe you’d like that better?” 

Your eyes widen at that, body freezing as fear takes control of you. 

For most times Keigo is laid-back and chill, but times like these are the ones that remind you that he’s just as dangerous as a villain is. He could easily hurt or even kill you within seconds, and there was nothing your quirkless ass could do to stop him.

You are at his mercy, much like you’ve always been ever since he took you. 

You hate how helpless you feel. 

Keigo notices your mortified reaction and walks closer, crouching in front of you. 

“Didn’t mean to scare you, babe.” he says with a jovial tone. “But I really need you to behave, ‘kay?”

His hand elevates and he ignores your flinch as he brushes away a few tears. 

“Enough with the tears, you’re too pretty to be cryin’ like that.” he smiles, hand lowering to grab your forearm.

He stands up, pulling you with him towards the bed. 

“Now, let’s go get our beauty sleep.”  

[rekino2114]

Can I ask for an ask of reader kissing makes scars and burns after the zenin massacre

Kissing maki zenin's scars

Spoilers for the jjk manga

You sat on your bed thinking about what just happened. Your girlfriend knocked on your door covered in blood and told you she just massacred her entire clan and that her sister died, you were obviously shocked by it but still hugged her and let her in.

She took the opportunity to use your shower to clean the blood off of herself while you waited you thought about how terrible maki must feel after mai's death, you wanted to console her, to tell her that you were there for her and that you would never judge her for what she did, the zenins were all assholes anyways.

Your thoughts were interrupted by maki coming out of the shower only wearing a towel, you blushed a lot but couldn't stop staring, you had to admit your girlfriend was really attractive especially after she got those burns in shibuya.

"What are you staring at?"

"S-Sorry, it's just that you look good with the burns"

"You think so? Naoya said they made me look ugly"

"You mean that sexist jerk? Why are you listening to him?"

"I wasn't, but still, thanks,"

"No problem I love you maki never forget that"

She smiled slightly and blushed, she really needed to heat that.

"......do you mind....if we cuddle?"

"Yeah sure I'll go change you wait"

"A-actually, are you comfortable with me kissing your scars? We don't have to if you don't want to but you really look like you need some kisses for comfort"

Maki blushed and sighed, normally she would probably deny such a request but after the events of the day you were the last thing she had left, the last person she could love and be loved and comforted by, she knew she needed comfort so she agreed.

She asked you to close your eyes, took the towel off and laid down on your bed. When you opened your eyes you were met with your girlfriend's bare back littered with burns and scars that you immediately put your arms around and started to press your lips to,making sure that maki could feel your love with each kiss.

"Thank you this...actually feels really nice"

"It's the least I can do, please just know that you can always come to me for anything, I love you"

In this very rare moment of vulnerability, maki felt like everything that happened had been washed away from her, your sweet words and kisses were enough to make her feel at least slightly better, and yet she felt like crying at the same time, the idea of you being ripped away from her like mai filled her head and she knew she just couldn't possibly handle that. Even if she stopped herself from crying, her next words still came out sounding so sad.

"......please don't ever leave me......I-I love you too much to lose you"

"Don't worry I promise you I'll never abandon you, I will always be with you, through everything, I love you too"

Maki felt her lips curve upwards ever so slightly at your reassurance. She knew you loved her just as much as she loved you. Right there, she made another promise to mai's spirit:she would always protect and love you no matter what, you were the most important person in her life, she wasn't going to lose you no matter what.

[aethes-bookshelf]

empty eyes, emptier words || astarion/tav/halsin

I've been stuck in BG3 hell since the game first came out. I'm still in there. I don't think I'll be coming out anytime soon, so have this piece of angst. If everything goes well, maybe I'll deliver on some devil fucking (ft. Haarlep & Raphael). But that's a big IF.

For now, take this. I wrote it in class. I was supposed to be paying attention, but I made this instead. Bon appétit.

Warnings: angst, hurt/no comfort, tav straight up fucking dies

Pairing: astarion/tav/halsin

Wordcount: 1.4k

Summary: Orin knew exactly who to take to hit those troublesome True Souls the hardest. Their leader was the obvious choice - a chicken can only run so far if you take its head. Tav would make a beautiful sacrifice for Bhaal.

And if anyone came to try and get them back? All the better. Blood will flow either way. And what a sight it'll be.

[I made some changes to Orin's dagger. Now, whoever gets killed with it can't be resurrected. Or can they?]

ao3 link || part 2

Orin turned around at the first sound of footsteps. She brandished her dagger, her Netherstone embedded in the cold metal of the weapon. She was standing on the sacrificial altar at the center of the temple. Beneath her laid Tav, arms and legs bound. They were unconscious, fresh and old wounds littering their body. The little clothing they wore stuck to their skin, wet with blood. The smell of it hit Astarion like a club to the head. He hated how his mouth instantly watered, hunger rearing its ugly head.

‘I don’t smell Gortash’s rot on you,’ Orin said, crouching by Tav’s body. She dragged her blade across their skin. Fresh blood bubbled to the surface. Tav didn’t even flinch. They were barely breathing.

‘Did it think it could trick me? Did it think it could save?’ Orin taunted, her dagger stopping right over Tav’s heart. Astarion could hear its faint beating.

The heat of Karlach’s anger burned the air around her. ‘I hope you’re not about to do what I think you are. For your sake.’ Her massive ax sliced through the pungent air, tail swishing behind her.

Halsin didn’t speak, but his eyes glowed bright gold. His hands were clenched at his sides, anger barely restrained.

Astarion unsheathed his own daggers, their weight a fleeting comfort. ‘You lay one more finger on them, I’ll rip your throat out,’ he said. A growl ripped itself out of his throat.

‘Your teeth aren’t sharp enough to pierce my throat,’ said Orin. The tip of her dagger sank into Tav’s chest. ‘Not enough to slice my flesh, taste my blood.’ She drew back her hand, dagger rising into the air. A speck of blood followed its tip.

Astarion clenched his jaw so hard his teeth hurt. His upper lip drew back; he bared his fangs on instinct.

‘Even if you kill them, all you’ll achieve is pissing us off,’ said Karlach. Her words were confident, but her voice betrayed her; she was afraid. ‘We’ll just bring them back so they can spit on your fucking corpse after I split you in half, you crazy bitch.’

None of them liked the way Orin laughed at those words. ‘“Bring them back”? Not here. Not with Bhall’s blessing.’ She grinned, showing all of her teeth. ‘They’ll be the first sacrifice of the night. Then I’ll spill your blood and guts on their flayed skin.’ A shiver ran through Orin as she brought her dagger down.

The blade sank into Tav’s chest with a sickening squelch. They gasped, body going rigid for just a second. Then they went limp.

Astarion’s scream rang through the still air as Karlach charged the altar.

* * *

Astarion knelt down by the bodies laying on the stairs and started rifling through their pockets.

‘What the hell are you doing, Fangs?’ asked Karlach. Tears were evaporating off of her face, her infernal engine still hot with her battle rage. The ashes of a used scroll of revivify were cooling at her feet. The spell's energy had already ran out and Tav was still limp, their body slowly going rigid.

‘I’m looting, can’t you tell?’ Astarion’s voice was snappy, but even. ‘Tav’s usually the one to take everything that’s not nailed down but they obviously can’t do it this time, can they?’

He leaned down over a pile of smoking bones and burned blood that used to be a man once. ‘They always find something for us in these piles of trash, I thought it’d be… nice to do the same for them for once.’ He managed to fish out a rusted dagger from underneath the pile.

‘Astarion,’ said Karlach, voice breaking.

‘Besides, their favorite tea ran out a few days ago, so we’re gonna need stuff to sell.’ He leaned over the pile of Orin’s gore next. ‘Tav spent most of our money on some new armor for you and Gale, and that tea’s expensive, you know?’ He took Orin’s dagger. His hands were shaking.

‘Astarion,’ Karlach tried again. The low hiss of evaporating tears got louder.

‘They deserve to drink something good when they come back, no?’ Astarion stood up straight. His grip on Orin’s dagger was so tight his chuckles went paper-white.

‘Astarion,’ Karlach’s voice was low and thick with tears, ‘I don’t think they’re coming ba—’

‘Don’t you dare finish that sentence.’ Astarion was quick to turn around and point the dagger at Karlach’s chest. ‘Don’t you dare finish that sentence.’ For the first time since they arrived at the temple, his voice broke. ‘Of course they’re coming back. Why do we keep that creepy skeleton around if not to bring us back in times like these?’

His eyes watered. ‘They’re coming back. They have to. They must. Even if that means I’ll have to drag them out of the Hells myself.’

Astarion’s eyes wandered to Tav’s broken corpse. They were still laying on the altar, the stone of it slick with their drying blood. He couldn’t see their face; Halsin’s shoulders were obstructing the view. Astarion could swear the druid was shaking too.

‘Halsin, they’re coming back, right? They’re coming back!’ If Astarion’s heart still beat, it’d be fluttering with rising panic.

Halsin’s voice was low and quiet. He kept stroking Tav’s matted hair as he spoke. ‘I’m not sure they will, my friend.’

Those words punched all air out of Astarion’s lungs. Fury replaced it.

‘Shut up!’ he screamed; his voice echoed in the empty temple. ‘We were supposed to have decades together. Decades! They can’t leave yet. They promised!’ His knees buckled. With every word he spoke, he sank lower and lower, until his knees hit the cold stone beneath him. ‘They promised we’d… We were supposed to find a way for me to be in the sun again,’ his voice faded into silence.

Astarion couldn’t speak anymore. His chest clenched and his eyes burned. He wanted to scream. He wanted to rage and kill, and tear. He wanted to bring Orin back just so he could send her to her blasted god all over again. He wanted to hear Tav laugh at one of his stupid jokes.

His throat was clenched so tight not even sobs could escape it. He was vaguely aware Halsin’s shoulders were openly shaking with his grief, but he couldn’t bring himself to comfort the druid. That would mean looking at Tav’s empty eyes. That would make this entire nightmare real. So very, terribly real.

Astarion’s grip on Orin’s dagger loosened; the weapon fell with a loud cling, its Netherstone slipping out of it. The stone shone dimly in the light of the torches.

All of it for these stones. All this death, pain and misery for these three pieces of one whole. Tav died for it.

Meaningless, meaningless, meaningless. All of it. All of it!

Astarion’s mind was reeling; jumping from pain to denial to anger to desperation. He didn’t know what to do. Tav would know, he thought, and a fresh wave of tears fell.

Karlach laid a hand on his shoulder. She’d cooled down enough for her touch to be only slightly painful on his corpse-cold skin. ‘We have to go, Fangs. Halsin.’ Her grip on Astarion tightened when he shook his head. ‘We have to go,’ she repeated, harsher this time. Barely restrained emotion shook her voice. ‘If they even can come back, we need to get them back to camp as soon as possible.’

Halsin took a deep breath and wiped his face with the back of his hand. ‘Karlach’s right,’ he said and stood up. Tav was limp as he cradled them close to his chest. To his heart. ‘If we stay here too long, we’ll certainly lose them for good.’ The druid squared his shoulders and turned to face the other two.

Astarion went rigid at the sight of Tav’s hand, limply hanging off the side of their body. He couldn’t bring himself to look up at their face.

‘Astarion,’ Halsin’s voice was soft, ‘I understand your pain. They are in my heart as they are in yours. But we mustn't waste time lest we lose them forever. If there is a chance to save them, we must act now.’

Astarion swallowed down the bile rising in his throat. The chill of death had never been more present in his bones. He nodded, silent, and picked up Orin’s dagger and Netherstone.

‘Let’s go,’ said Karlach, new-found determination on her face. ‘We still have to buy their favorite tea after this, right? How’d you put it, Fangs? “They deserve to drink something good after this”?’

Astarion nodded. He didn’t trust his voice not to break if he spoke. There was an empty, far-away look in his eyes.

As they left the temple of Bhaal, the sweet stench of blood followed them out.

[hoe4sports]

“I wanted tall, I wanted green eyes”

Jessie Fleming x reader

A/N: mentions of symptoms of the flu. Denial of being gay. This is a part of my new Jessie series called 10x better. It’s based off of the song x10 better by Marielle Craft. There will be multiple parts.

-

You groaned as you ripped the paper out of your workbook before cramming it into a ball and chucking it towards the bin. It was close to summer, and the last month of College was wrapping up. You hadn’t really wanted to do college, but you didn’t have anything else going on so your parents pulled some strings to get you into UCLA’s prestigious engineering program going with a major in material engineering. The school had a decent track program where you had excelled into a good athlete. Luckily you had found yourself a bouquet of girls in class and in track who sticked together with you through the college years. The group of you went through all kinds of hardships together as you gradually turned into adults. That had led you to sitting with the girls at a table in the library‘s area specifically dedicated to group projects and talking.

«I cant for the life of me figure this out. It just won’t stick! It really makes no sense.” You huffed at Aubrey who looked just as lost as you did. Normally, you were a decent student. Getting good grades; mostly A’s and B’s but you had the occasional C+. It didn’t bother you at all, grades and school wasn’t what defined you as a human. “What part is it that your stuck on? Maybe I can help?” Your friend Mia suggested. You dramatically flipped your textbook towards her to let her see the materials you were struggling with. She read through the page quickly before taking off her glasses dramatically. “You are on your own kid, I barely passed the test about that part.” It left you with rolling your eyes as you huffed again.

«What about that boyfriend of yours? Isn’t he like supersmart? William or whatever his name was» Ella teased as you laid your head down on the table and covered it with the book. “Ugh” you said. “Ooo, trouble in paradise!” Amalia teased. You sat up and crossed your arms as you shook your head. “Guys, cut her some slack. Y/N, I have a friend who is really smart. She plays soccer with me, I could give you her number” Mia suggested causing everyone to shut up. You sat up interested. “I’m listening” Mia smiled. “Her name is Jessie, she’s the smartest person I know! She told me that I could always ask for help so I supposed I can lend you my favor.” “Deal!” You said as you handed over your phone for Mia to type in the number of your saviour.

—

You sat infront of the big mirror in your down curling your hair like a last minute touch up. Your boyfriend had blown you off once again for studying, so you had decided to hit up Jessie so she could help you study. William was always so busy, always studying or going to his little clubs. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him, but he was just there. Life hadn’t handed over a boyfriend before college, so when William asked; you jumped on it. It wasn’t like people describe it. Like butterflies, romance and giggles. It was just like a friend that you would kiss occasionally. You had settled on the thought of you be a-romantic or asexual, it was painful to know that you were never going to experience the bliss, the romance and the tickling sensation of a relationship. It wasn’t something you wanted people to know, so you decided to keep it to yourself. It was the ugly truth, but it was still the truth that you had to deal with.

-

You sat in the library, waiting for this mystery Jessie to pull up. She was late, 13 minutes late. You hated people who were late, but you made an assumption that practice had ran late. You took a sip of your smoothie as you looked out of the big window infront of you. It was already dark outside, but the campus was buzzing. People were getting ready to push through the last few weeks of school before finishing college. Some of the students already had landed good jobs, some had gotten accepted into further studies, some had planned for a gap year and some people, like you, had no clue what to do. You just didn’t know what was in store for you. Your parents expected you to get a high paying job, but you just wanted to live. They wanted you to get married and have kids. You wanted to travel the world. You had talent in track, and you were pretty close to becoming an established runner in the 1500m and the 3000m. The expectations didn’t fit your dreams, but after all; you could chase your dreams once your parents had passed.

“Y/N?” A voice said behind cutting of your chain of thoughts leaving you to jump in your chair causing all the hairs on your body to rise. You practically whacked your head around somewhat resembling an owl as you turned to the girl next to you. “You are Y/N, right?” The girl said. “Uhm, yea. You must be Jessie? Mia’s friend?” You asked as you desperately tried to shake yourself out of the state of shock. “Yes, correct! I’m sorry for being late, practice went over and I had to shower so I wouldn’t stink out the library” she said as she turned into a shade of light pink. «I get it, i do track» you said as you gestured for Jessie to sit down in front of you. “Here, I brought you a smoothie as a thank you” you said as you pointed towards the cup next to her. Jessie politely accepted as she took a sip before beginning the session.

After a few hours of Jessie explaining the chapter tremendously, you were starting to slowly understand it. At least, enough for you to study the rest the following day. You were busy packing up your backpack with your books, MacBook and iPad when Jessie tapped your shoulder. “Wanna grab something to eat before bedtime?” Jessie’s suggestion was music to your ears as you loved food.

-

At the dining hall, it was pretty much empty. The large room was quiet, like all of the energies had gone to bed and left for the evening. It was a nice hall with tall walls and decent food. You grabbed a piece of pizza, some salad and a Pepsi Mac. Jessie grabbed Fanta to her Mac and cheese. Your conversation was flowing, and Jesse was quite funny. The sight of Jessie was adorable. She had this amazing aura that your soul craved to be around. Her freckles were cute, like a sky of stars in the middle of the night. And her eyes? Oh god, they felt warm and safe. The was she told stories enchanted you. She was the perfect woman, and that confused you. Not perfect like you wanted to be her, but like you wanted to be with her?

You were snapped out of your dreaming when Jessie called your name. “Hm? Sorry? I got distracted” You said as you took a bite of your pizza while waiting for Jessie. “I asked if you wanted to study tomorrow? I have practice at 5.30, but I’m free by 7” she said as you nodded. Oh god, did you seem desperate? Why were you like this? It felt like your skin was on fire. “Uh, yea, I have track at 5, but I’m free after 7” you confirmed as you changed the subject talking about how Mia had ended up falling asleep in a bush after a party during your freshman year.

After eating, Jessie insisted on following you back to your dorm. The walk from the community building to your dorm was refreshing. The chill spring air was crisp, cooling down your burning skin. It made your curled hair blow in the wind, just like in one of the dumb teenage movies you watched as a kid. The wind was however leaving you slightly cold as you had just worn a simple tank top with flowers printed on it for the day. You felt your body forcing you into a slight shiver, but before you were able to say something; Jessie had already wrapped her jacket around you.

When you reached your dorm, Jessie hugged you goodbye. She insisted on you keeping her jacket until tomorrow’s session which you honestly didn’t mind. You swung the door open as you waved after her and slipped into the dorm before flopping down on your bed with your backpack still on and your face looking up into the ceiling. Your skin felt even warmer now, it was practically boiling hot and your stomach was hurting. It felt uneasy, like it was tickling. It wasn’t a common feeling, and you were hoping that it wasn’t gonna turn into the y when you had plans with Jessie the next day.

“So, how was it?” Mia said as you looked into the ceiling. “Normal, it was studying” you said as you touched your burning cheeks with your cool hand. “Girl, you are blushing! Do you like Jessie?” Mia asked with seriousness in her voice. “I’m not blushing! Jessie is a friend, and I’m not into girls” you tried to advocate for yourself, but it turned out to be a miserable attempt of redemption. “You are not into girls? You came in her all smiling with stars in your eyes” she suggested as you sat up in your bed to look at her. Sure, Jessie was fun, kind, caring, sincere, smart. Pretty much all the positive verbs in the English language, but did that mean that you liked Jessie. “Besides my stomach hurts and I feel feverish, so I’m gonna go to bed miss noisy” you said as you took off Jessie’s jacket.

Mia raised an eyebrow at you. “Jessie’s jacket? You are not feverish; it’s called blushing. Your stomach dosent hurt; it’s called being in love. You like Jessie, and it’s okay! William is as interesting as drying paint” Mia finished as she grabbed her book and got cozy in her bed. “I don’t like girls! And William is tall and he has green eyes” you said as you hid your face in your pillow. Could it be that you actually liked Jessie? It wasn’t possible because you were aromantic. “Is that the best words you can use to describe him? Girl, get your ass down to earth! It’s okay to have a little crush! Mia continued as you buried your face even deeper down in the pillow. She had a point, but you were not sure. You felt like you couldn’t trust yourself. You ended up huffing in a respond hoping Mia would let you off the hook.

“I don’t know who you are trying to convince out of us two; but it’s not me.”

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Never Cry Alone Again

Pairing: Captain John Price x reader

Warnings: angst, fluff maybe?

Something purely indulgent on my part

It always started with the feeling of being choked. Your throat always tightened so much that it hurt to swallow or to breathe, it was as if you were being pinched tightly on the inside. Pinched by something that told you that what was coming was wrong so you had to stop feeling whatever you feeling to make it go away.

Tears never did anyone good.

What good were tears when they soaked clothes as you hid your face inside your shirt? What good were tears when the shaky sobs ripped through your throat only to be stuffed back down by holding your breath in hopes that maybe you would just stop crying all together?

What good were tears when no one cared enough to even ask what was wrong?

There was never a comforting hand or the warm embrace from those who were supposed to love you even when you were a crying mess. The tightness was never fought by soft words and instead grew and grew until you were dried up inside, devoid of everything. There was nothing, not even when you let out loud sobs, nobody who cared, nor who listened and if they did, they were upset by your tears making them uncomfortable.

Countless nights left in your room, staining the pillows and sheet with disgusting tears. Days spent gripped blankets tightly to stop any noise from escaping, barely soothing yourself as waited for the burning torrent of ugliness to stop running down your face.

No one in the task force had ever seen you cry. They believed you did it private but you never shed any tears, you were dried up, and the boys often joked that you were almost as heartless as Ghost.

There were moments where you could feel it, the tightness in your throat, the tears pushing against your eyes but you beat them into submission. You push down the tightness as best you could and walked it off.

But sometimes your best isn’t enough.

You don’t know what happened, you don’t know what broke down the dam that you had built inside of yourself. Maybe it was the stress from the job, maybe it was something someone said yesterday or something someone did last week, something that put a crack in your carefully built stability.

You laid on your bed on base, huddled against the wall as you tried your hardest to wipe the never ending tears from your face. They were annoying, especially as you had to keep looking up at the ceiling in hopes that they would just be absorbed back into your eyes.

You had been good at keeping quiet, you had learned how to cry quietly or silently, there was no point in being loud if you were ignored anyway. No a single sob had left you, even as you shook uncontrollably, even as you sniffled to keep snot from running down your face too.

It would only be an hour or so, maybe a little more and then you’d be dried up. Then you could go back to being normal.

“Love, what’s wrong?”

You could’ve screamed, your nearly did but it had gotten stuck in your throat and instead came out as a gasp as you shot up from your bed.

Price stood in your room, concern on his face as he stepped closer to your bed. You’re not sure how long he stood there for or when he came in, you’re sure he probably knocked and assumed you were asleep, but now you were panicking.

Heat washed over your face and luckily the embarrassment was enough to stop the tears as you quickly wiped them away. It was almost scary how quickly you put yourself back together and it only caused Price to give you a more concerned look.

He shouldn’t see this. No one liked someone who cried, no one loved someone who cried, no one cared.

“Nothing.” You lied as you took a deep breath as you tried to fix your now shattered relationship because of your mistake. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie to me.” His voice is soft but his eyes are stern in a loving way that catches you off guard.

You’re at a loss for words, unable to gauge whether you should run away or argue with him that you are fine and this was just a misunderstanding.

You look away from him. You’re still shaking and your fingers toy with the blanket underneath you as you try your hardest to get out of this situation.

“Did something happen?” Price slowly sat down on the edge of the bed but kept his distance.

“No.” You shake your head. “It’s nothing, I’m fine.”

“You’re upset.”

“So?”

You glance back at Price and you see a sort of sadness creep into his gaze as he looks at you. You’re not sure if it’s pity or maybe sympathy but it makes your stomach turn. This is more than anything anyone has ever done when you cried and it’s too much, especially coming from someone who you were supposed to perfect for.

It made your heart race and the panic inside of you took control. You had to stop this, stop whatever he was trying to do because it wasn’t worth it and you were sure that he’d found out he truly to didn’t care if you left it.

“It’s okay, they’re just stupid tears.” You try to joke as you give him a shaky smile. “Nobody cares.”

“I care.”

You felt a swell of tears hit your eyes again and your throat tighten up but you blinked them away. You swallowed hard and shook your head, pulling away from him as far as you could.

He didn’t mean those silly little words. Nobody cares, why else would you go ignored for having these ugly feelings? He’s was lying or was teasing you maybe even mocking you.

Price sighed softly and reached out. He rested his hand on top of yours, letting his fingers barely put any weight against your skin as he very gently rubbed the tips of them against your knuckles.

“I care.” He repeated again so softly only you could hear it. “I don’t want you to be alone.”

You shook your head again, fighting against the tears as you tried your hardest to stop the onslaught that was about to happen. You wanted to pull away but you couldn’t, not from his warmth as he touched you so kindly.

You tried to protest, to push him away because this was bad, whatever was going on was bad, but you couldn’t.

Price wouldn’t let you, but you didn’t want to be alone again.

A sob left your chest, broken and ugly, as tears spilled from your eyes. You shut them tight and hid your face in your hands, attempting to hide yourself away from your lover.

“C’mere.” He crawled closer to you and wrapped his around a around your shoulders.

He picked you up, holding you close to his chest as he deposited you into his lap and kept his arms around you so tight. You wrapped your arms around him, soaking up the warmth by shoving your face into his chest and sobbing quietly.

His thin rubbed into your shoulder as he cradled your head in his other hand. He rocked you back and forth while he leaned his chin against your head, not saying a word.

The embarrassment slowly melted away from the warmth he willingly gave you, the comfort his so easily handed out to you as if he was okay with the fact that you were crying. You cling onto him for dear life, hoping that this wasn’t a trick that this was real.

You hoped that this wouldn’t end things and you could hardly express that to him between hiccups and sobs.

“Never, love.” He whispered sweetly into your ear. “I’m always going to be here for you, even when you’re upset.”

Price pressed a soft kiss to your temple and another one on the crown of your head. He squeezed you once and held you against his chest for more security in hopes that you would feel more of it.

And you did. You fell into his arms and let everything go, you cried and cried until you were ready to talk and then you cried more before you were done, feeling exhausted but full.

And he never left.

[kyumisyumi]

Duet

It would've probably made more sense for me to write this about Soap but there's tonnes of Soap content and I'm tryna feed the starving.

Warning: Quickly written, barely proof read

Ship: Nikto x Banshee!Reader (F)

Word count: 1k

⊱⊶Taking requests⊷⊰

It was like throwing up pins and needles, using your voice after so long. The sounds clawed against your throat as if begging to never see the light of day. Your own song fighting to return to the darkness of your vocal chords, wishing to never be uttered. But this wasn't your song anymore and that's why it needed to be sung. Needed to be released into the cool air to meet the oracles in the stars. It was an ugly tune; gargles and keening as your emotions morphed into rancid sound. Your bloodline had ended decades ago. You remember the moment the elder, happy without child, closed her eyes for the last time. The final composer of your songs laid for eternal slumber with a smile turned towards your distant figure. Her end marked the beginning of your hibernation. A solemn existence. You lied to yourself that it was a prize for centuries of dutiful work, but loneliness festered inside your core as your wondered for years without purpose.

Then came the sound; timber against timber. The click of a composer's wand. Something you never thought you'd hear ever again. Click click. You were being summoned. Called for by Death to let you know your job was not finished. Like a hound to its name, you followed it. Your apprehension and confusion weighed heavy but no force inside you was stronger than the instincts pumping through your inhuman form. Click click. Like children to a dinner bell, you followed it. The fabrics draped around your greyish body clipping in and out of reality, snagging on branches when it unfortunately caught only to dissolve into mist. Stones and twigs piercing your feet before phasing through your ethereal form. Click click. Like sunflowers to the morning rays, you followed it. Something inside you beating feverously; a life that wasn't your own cradled within your chest. Click click. Like a magazine into a gun, because that's exactly what it was. When the thrumming inside your chest calmed down, you could finally hear the sounds of gunfire whizzing through the air. Hoof beats storming the ground revealed to be the boots of man. Soldiers. They bolted through the concrete and dirt of wrecked structures, firing their weapons into their own kind. None of that mattered to you however, you had seen war plenty of times. All that mattered were the clicks that called for your song and the person holding the gun. Click click.

It alarmed him, naturally, when he began to hear the eerie melody of a woman's song. It first reached him amidst a fitful attempt at rest within his small tent. Nikto wasn't sure what to make of it. Another case of his mind playing tricks on him? That the enemy had released hallucinogens into the air? However, when he'd asked his comrades if they heard it too all he'd received were worried looks in response. It was in his head then. Was this karma? Had all the lives he'd taken conspire in the afterlife to haunt him? If so, this was an odd tactic; to sing him hymns rather than rip his soul from his flesh to drag it down where he belonged. He'd tired himself out clawing at the walls of his mind, trying to find a source within. And so he just listened, all of him. It drove him insane almost as much as it brought him peace. Words he could not decipher being whispered in a tune unknown yet somehow familiar. A song that wasn't in his memory but somewhere deeper, somewhere more him than he could ever conceptualize. No matter how much it unnerved him to hear this mysterious singing, the way it warmed his body and stilled his mind became a drug to him. If this was a new level of madness, he had little complaints.

When he heard it in the midst of battle, the effects were reversed; it riled him up rather than calm him down. Like the being was singing life into him. It diffused into his skin to settle within the nerves and muscles beneath his flesh, pushing him ever forward. It whispered truths he'd always known. That he was a harbinger of death, a machine of violence serving those who wrote his cheques. How he felt about it made no difference to what he was. Nobody. Not a person, just a weapon. It felt almost blasphemous to commit acts of cruelty to music so beautiful but his body called for it. A head he'd bashed into a wall, a spine snapped beneath his feet, this bloodshed was his offering to the being that sang for him. To the unknown creature that had decided to take up residence in his mind.

This felt right, this felt like destiny. Nikto carved his path into the enemy stars like the bullet through his chest. Falling to his knees like a man in prayer before laying to meet the Gods.

It was only then that you went to his side, looking into the confused blue eyes of your composer. They searched yours, forgetting where he was and what he was doing as the shrouds of your body filled his vision.

"женщина[woman], sing for me." His voice was much like the metal instruments he played.

You held his hand in both your own, watching the calm slip into his eyes as he listened to your ugly wails. You'd heard the lyrics he filled in. Oh, how they made your heart bleed. But now, in his final moments, you sing to him in words he could understand. Serenade him with the truth of who he was, cradling him to hide his tears. The thumping in your chest was slowing down as your song mellowed to it's end. The final verse came in the sound of a rattle.

[cyborg-franky]

PROMPT: May I please request for some yandere marco, where his zoan kinda takes over during rut season (mating season) thank you!

Marco x GN Reader N/SFW TW: Yandere - n/ncon - dark themes - monster fucking- breeding kink [no mentions of pregnancy/female body implications] don’t like don’t read Word Count: 1,600

Repost of mine from libary of ohara

He stood over you with his eyes narrowed. His smirk never left his face. The jovial chuckle escaped his lips as he loomed. His talons scratched along the wooden floor as he did so. Using one to pin you down, the sharp points dig into you painfully. Red marks appeared on your shirt where he had pierced your skin and caused you to bleed.

The fear you felt stopped all signals of pain rushing to your brain. You opened and closed your mouth as your commander pressed even harder, blood rushing out the pinpricks at a faster rate. Marco had always seemed so kind, so nice that you’d never have thought you’d have ended up as his prey.

You wished the room was pitch black to avoid seeing the ugly twisted look on his face. His tail lit up the entire room. The brilliant golden hue which gave much hope was robbing you of any grace in the situation.

“Did you think you could get away from me?” Marco asked, the condescension clear as day in his voice as he lifted off his large, clawed foot.

“Marco….”

“Now, now, don’t grovel. It should be an honour that the phoenix even wants someone as weak as you as its mate yoi.” He wrapped a claw around your ankle when you tried to shuffle back out of his grasp.

Dragging you back along the floor roughly, making it hurt more than needed. You could feel tears prick the corner of your eyes. Your body trembled as Marco let out a sigh. You hated how you seemed more like an inconvenience than anything.

“Please!”

“Please what?”

You didn’t know, you just whimpered and shook your head. The phoenix clicked his tongue before he was on you. Blue eyes stared into yours with an intensity you couldn’t withstand, you closed your eyes. You felt his hand on your throat, feeling his lips trailing up your neck.

“My perfect little mate yoi.”

His words weren’t making any sense to you, he seemed so unhinged, feral… then it clicked, he was a zoan type devil fruit, the user. His humanity had taken a backseat while his animal side had come out from hiding. You whimpered when he moved once more, his sharp claws made short work of your clothes.

Catching your skin as the fabric ripped apart, he didn’t seem concerned about the lines of red he’d created along your shivering skin as he tilted his head from one side to the other, fully admiring what was laid bare for him.

His pupils blown wide, his normally comforting lopsided smile was gone, replaced with that horrid grin as he started to remove his sash, casting it aside along with his decorative belt, you winced when you heard the metal clang on the floor.

Somehow that was the thing that fully solidified your current situation in your mind. The bell that tolled for you. Your sniffling was starting to get on his nerves and he clicked his tongue, eyes narrowed with that unwavering smirk.

“Now, now little bird, shhhh.” He cooed with fake sympathy.

You felt something snaking around your ankles, glancing down you saw the glowing tail feathers of your commander as he pinned you down, the glowing appendages spread your legs wide, letting him get settled between them.

“Oh pretty, pretty bird yoi,” Marco said with a trill, his voice taken on an inhuman quality as he rubbed his cock against your entrance, you blinked and wondered why it didn’t feel like you expected.

“Oh? Want to see what’s going to be stuffed into you, mate?”

Marco pulled away enough that you could see his cock, thick and throbbing, a tapered tip. Ridges and bumps all along the shaft. You grimaced when you saw how much precum was pooling around the slit. He chucked at your bewildered expression.

“T-that won’t fit.” You mumbled and tried to close your legs, the glowing tail snapped your legs apart further, a dull ache where your hips connected to the rest of you caused you to consider your next actions.

“That’s not the attitude that’s going to help you.” Marco sighed, nipping along your neck, teeth grazing against your skin as he once again rubbed his cock against your hole.

He was getting drunk off your scent, loving every second your musk filled his senses. This was his mate, the person he desired to be bonded with. He would have preferred a more, willing mate, but that didn’t stop him from wanting you regardless.

“Brace yourself yoi.” That was his only warning, mumbled against your neck as you felt the thinner part of his member breach your hole, pushing inside you. You grabbed his shoulders, digging nails into his skin.

Blue flicks of flames danced over the nail marks, healing him in an instant. He cooed in your ear, whispering awful, sinful things as he pushed forward, you felt each teasing bump rub against your walls. Your mouth hung open and you gasped when the zoan was fully sheathed.

“I can’t wait to fill you to the brim with my seed little bird.” He sighed, licking down your neck, along your collarbone where he started to sink his teeth, marking you as his own.

“Mar-..Marco…s..stop..” you closed your eyes as you felt his cock stuff you.

You’d never felt so full before, you felt his hips start to move, how he picked up the pace. Slow, measured but brutal, each thrust going as deep as he possibly could. Greedy lips claimed your neck, feeling Marco’s cock expand inside you was a strange feeling.

“Be good for your commander, be a good mate for me yoi.” His breath ticked your ear as his pace picked up.

Unrelenting thrusts, getting faster as he worked himself up more, as your entrance got used to his monstrous cock. He cooed and trilled, feeling at home between your thighs, your tight walls holding him snugly, warm, welcoming, and begging to be bred. At least in his bird brain, he knew deep down it wasn’t possible.

You bit your lip, not wanting to moan, but it was starting to feel good, and you felt ashamed of that fact. You couldn’t help the muffled moans he was pulling from you with every drag of his cock. You arched up, bucking to meet his thrust when he wasn’t going as fast as you’d like.

“Ah getting into it now?” you said nothing, eyes fluttering open to see him gazing down at you.

You shook your head and he laughed at your lies. His arms became wings suddenly, you were mesmerised by the glimmering blue overtaking everything. How he flapped the majestic wings of feather and flame, he didn’t even need to pin you down.

You were still helpless.

The flapping of his wings and thrusting of his hips was doing something for you. Your own head was being clouded with the growing pleasure. You whimpered and moaned when he rocked into you just right. Wings of cool flame cradle your body, adjusting you. He pulled out, only for a moment as he positioned your lower half into the air.

“Presenting like a good mate, I knew you’d be perfect.” Marco chuckled as he slipped back into you with ease this time.

Deeper, so much deeper than before. You could tell you were drooling, lips parted as your breathing got heavy. Moans escaping unchallenged now as your body adapted to the rough fucking, the way he was going to breed you.

Marco couldn’t help but feel pleased, proud of himself for claiming you as his own, his mate. He wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to last but, oh he wanted to fill you full of cum. Fuck his seed as deep inside you as he could.

Words failed you, all you could do was whine and moan out as you could feel your shameful end rushing to meet you. The heat that thrummed through your body as he started to pound in, slowly losing his composure as he was drawing close himself.

“Cum for me pretty bird, cum for your mate yoi.” His voice was smug, you could only imagine the smirk that went with it.

You hated that his filthy words were what got you over that hill, pushing you over the other side, crying out his name, begging, pleading for him to go just a little harder which he obliged, with pleasure. That was it, feeling that tapered tip twisting and twirling in the deepest part of your passage.

Body shuddering, voice shaky you came, and you came hard. Marco chuckled, a delighted sound echoed around the room, wings flapping as he drew close to his limit. He leaned forward as far as he could, seeing your fucked out expression he came, so much hot, thick cum, an inhuman amount was pumped into you.

You felt full, and it just kept going.

When he’d emptied himself inside of you, he slipped his cock out of your abused hole. Marco chuckled and watched the thick cum leak from your body. Wings soon turned back into human arms as he scooped some of the escaped seed and stuffed it back inside.

“Don’t waste my gift to you, tsk, what an ungrateful mate I have.”

You said nothing, you could hear the cruel smile in his tone, not needing to see his smirking face as you struggled to catch your breath. His arms wrapped around your middle, his lips leaving a trail along your body.

“Did you know, most birds mate for life yoi?” His chuckle tickled your skin, the implication of his words disgusting you.

[sl33paholics]

dio angry fucking you… because a guy was flirting with you and dio gets mad and teaches you a lesson🤧

Know Your Place!

Dio Brando x black!fem!reader

Warning(s): aggressive sex (with consent ofc), biting, gripping, choking, nipple play, rough kissing, bit of degrading, spanking....it's a shit ton of stuff alr? You'll see as you read.

OOOOOOOOOOOOO my first ever Dio request, out of all the characters from JJBA, I finally get to write this nigga for the first time. Kinda scared. Also, this is a modern AU as you said in your first request!

Words can't describe how much of an internal emotional turbulant this man felt when he saw a guy hitting on you while the two of you were at the shopping center.

He left you alone for a few minutes just to use the bathroom and came back to see a man, a lowlife, a pervert, a pig, a snob, an ugly fucker way too close getting his chance to holla at you. As if he waited or even followed the two of you to watch Dio leave your side to swoop in and take your attention away from him for a moment so that he could do something disgusting to you. He just couldn’t let it slide.

The blonde watched at you fluttered those lashes at him. Your glossy lip-liner lips curved into a pretty smile as you made conversation with this stranger who was now practically glued to you. You looked like you were in love with this fucker despite Dio being your boyfriend. It didn’t feel right. Could it be that you were humoring this man? Was it some sort of sick game for him? Was he trying to impress you so badly?

As if his body was acting on his own, Dio approached you two of you. His hand grabbed yours as he squeezed your small one tightly. The sharp gaze he gave the man in front of you was not friendly or soft. He knew what was going on and was ready to rip his eyes out with his bare hands if necessary. The guy backed off and sheepishly went his way. “We're going home." He'd say in that quiet voice of his, the same tone he used whenever someone tried to get too close. But this was different. There was something about Dio's eyes, the way they narrowed, and the way they glittered as if he would gladly rip out the stranger's tongue with his teeth, which made him seem so intimidating.

The ride home was quiet. He didn't say a word to you. You knew he was angry by the way he grabbed your hand. You're not stupid. But you didn't think it was a big of a deal. You were surprised when he didn't drop you off to your dorm, but instead, to the Joestar estate. Dio never bought you here unless an event was going on. Did this man forget to tell me that a party was going to happen today or what? You thought to yourself.

Man, you were totally wrong. Super fucking wrong.

You're now currently laid down at the edge at the edge of his king-sized bed, face-to-face, naked. The firm grip Dio had on your hips as he stared down at you with those dark chocolate orbs. All you need to know is the extent of how pissed off he was. His thumb gently stroked the sensitive skin above your naval. "This asshole dared to look at you," he whispered harshly, his breath hot against your neck, "and touch you." You could hear the venom dripping from each word Dio spoke, goosebumps appearing on your skin under his touch. Your legs raised up high with your knees bent to form a V, exposing the pink folds.

Oh my, the cold air in the room didn't help either. Your nipples were getting hard. As you felt the chills running through your breasts, the pain that came with it was creeping in.

Dio was enjoying watching you whine beneath him. His body slapping against your, his attention going to your breasts. A wicked smile plastering his face.

Dio's hand slithered over to one of your breasts, cupping it as he ran his thumb across its nipple. Your head threw back as he massaged the breast. However, he pinched your nipple as hard as he caused you to scream. Don't fucking move, (Y/N)." The words were stern and rough, making sure you stayed where you were.

Your back arched up with every pinch. It didn't help that the thrusting was beginning to become faster. Your mind was starting to cloud over with lust. You were losing control of what happened to you. You knew this could only end in disaster.

"Oh, if only you could see yourself right now. Such a whore. Like the slutty bitch you are." His words pierced your heart. They hurt more than any slap ever could have.

Dio pulled out, leaving you in shock. He moved your body further up on the bed as Dio got on top of you. You felt his hand wrapped around your neck. When the blonde thrusted into your waiting pussy, he gave your neck a good squeeze to make sure that your mouth stayed shut from a lack of oxygen. "No screaming. No moaning. No begging." The blonde wasn't taking shit from you. He didn't want to hear you protest.

Dio was jamming, no, drilling you at this point. His thrusts were getting sloppy, erratic, and rough. Dio's pace quickening and his breathing heavier. Every time he pumped inside of you, you could feel his cock twitch inside of you. Almost as if he was having trouble controlling himself. His breathing became heavy. The feeling was driving you crazy. You wanted him. More than anything.

His squeeze was getting tighter, and your eyes were rolled back. It was only until you had to scratch his arm for the man to realize that he had to snap out of his cloudy hated state of mind, removing his hand from your neck watching you gasp for air.

Dio got closer to your face, and the same hand he used on your neck was now cupping your cheeks and turned your head to face him. His lips pressed against yours. Dio's tongue tasted your salty lips and his own saliva sliding in between them before he sucked your tongue into his mouth. His tongue dancing with yours. Dio groaned with pleasure, and you couldn't help it. You moaned. That sounded so sexy coming out of your mouth. The trial of saliva against your tongue when he finally moved away. This was amazing. So intense and intimate, yet also so tender and caring, you thought. His taste was addicting. He tasted like peppermint, vanilla, and chocolate. Dio tasted like everything you liked. He smelled like the rain, like springtime, and most definitely, like sex.

All of this pleasure, all of this pain was worth it to be with him. To be in his arms. To be with him forever.

You felt yourself coming to your climax when he continued to stroke and massage your already wet and swollen clit. You were going to come any second now. You wanted to come again and again with him. With him.

And with that, you did, falling into his embrace after the two of you came together. Dio didn't bother to pull out. He wanted to remind you who you belonged to, as if that wasn't apparent from the moment Dio threw you on the bed earlier.

"My my...look at you," He'd say seeing your figure below him twitching and breathing heavily. "Your lip gloss has smeared across the pillow sheets and your pretty hair is all messy..." The blonde would say with a chuckle, you looked at him as if you wanted to punch the shit out of Dio. "Fuck you...you bastard...choking me as if I'm some fuckdoll." You'd say closing your eyes.

"Don't threaten me with a good time and new ideas, sweetheart. Take this as a lesson learned. You belong to me."

[pommpuriinn]

✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊ THE BIG DAY

ೀ synopsis- after getting back from the US tour it was finally time for Taehyun to get his wisdom teeth out, but of course he didn’t go alone Joohyung and Kai went for moral support

ೀ A/N- again I want to say thank you for 300 followers I love all of you 🫶🏼🥰

outfit | makeup

“Are you nervous?” Joohyung asked, while driving to Taehyun’s dentist. “Not really.” Taehyun shrugged. “Didn’t you see him back in the states? He was literally two seconds away from ripping them out of his mouth with his hands.” Kai laughed from the back seat. Currently Joohyung was the designated driver for Taehyun with Kai in the back as his moral support dog. “I’m fine…but you guys are going to stay in the room right?” Taehyun was showing a bit of nervousness making Joohyung chuckled. She hummed ‘yes’ while caressing the back of his head smoothing out his worries.

𝜗𝜚

Sooner than later the three were in the dentist room, Joohyung and Kai were sitting in the corner of the room while watching Taehyun lay there on the operation chair getting his wisdom teeth out. “He’s going to look so cute with his cubby cheeks!” Joohyung silently squealed, making Kai chuckle agreeing. “We have to take many pictures.”

It was actually a pretty quick operation since they only took two for now. “Taehyunie how are you feeling?” Joohyung asked in a baby voice, seeing how Taehyun was still a bit loopy. “N-Noona I…I love youuu~” Joohyung and Kai barely could understand him with all the cotton balls in his mouth. “We’ll help you wheel him out and into the car.” The nurse explained to Joohyung. “Ka-Kai I’m sooo thank…ful that you a-are with meee~” Taehyun looked up at Kai who was pushing his wheelchair out of the office. Kai couldn’t help but laugh at Taehyun drowsy state. “Oh, thank you hyunie!”

They finally made it outside and started the process of getting Taehyun from his wheelchair and the passenger side of the car. Joohyung held the door open while the nurse holds the wheelchair down, and Kai carefully moves Taehyun into the car. “Here’s the recovering packet for Taehyun-ssi, thank you!” The nurse smiled at Joohyung and Kai. “No thank you for taking care of our Taehyunie.” Both Joohyung and Kai bowed at the nurse before making their way into the car.

𝜗𝜚

Taehyun throughout the car ride was rather calm he was mostly zoning out while looking out the window. Until he pulled down the sun cover and saw himself in the little mirror, and gasped at himself. “Why do I-I look like thattt?” He gently touched his cheeks. “Oh-don’t do that.” Joohyung interlace her and his hands together so he wouldn’t touch his cheeks. “I love you noonaa~” Taehyun carefully laid his head on her shoulder. “Ya, why is he so cute?” Kai was shock at Taehyun’s drowsy self. Luckily Taehyun fell asleep on Joohyung’s shoulder throughout the whole car ride.

Once they made it back to the dorms Taehyun was less loopy and was a little more conscious, which really helped the duo take him up the elevator and into the apartment. “Is our hyunie back?” Yeonjun was the first member to meet them at the door. “Hyung!” Taehyun hugged Yeonjun, making the members laugh. “He isn’t has loopy as before.” Kai laughs. “Ay, why is he so ugly.” Soobin jokes, but it did earn him a little slap by Joohyung. “Be nice to my baby.” She furrowed her eyebrows at Soobin. Soobin pulls her into a hug basically saying ‘sorry’.

“Taehyunie let’s take you to bed.” Beomgyu guides Taehyun to his shared bedroom with Kai. “Noona you really look like his mom in your outfit.” Yeonjun leans on the counter while looking at her up and down. “I was thinking that when I saw the photo we took with his dentist.” Joohyung laughs at herself. “I don’t even want to know what moa is saying.” Joohyung throws her phone on their couch.

“Noona! Taehyun bit me!” Beomgyu’s screams startled the two cats in the kitchen. Yeonjun and Joohyung ran to the room the rest were in. “What happened?” Joohyung sees Beomgyu pouting while looking at his bit finger on Kai’s bed, while Kai was reading on how to change Taehyun’s gauze from the packet the nurse gave you, and Soobin who getting disgusted at Taehyun’s bloody gauze. “Can’t leave the kids alone for a second.” Yeonjun shook his head.

Joohyung immediately went mom mode and got Taehyun to sit up and followed the directions closely, as she was changing the old bloody gauze with Kai being her little helper. “Done. Now lay down and don’t bite Beomgyu no more and go to sleep.” She carefully laid Taehyun back down.

What would they do without Joohyung.

[uhadoreable]

Hi. This one is a lot shorter because I can and I said so. Anyway, I hope you all like the toxic Ghost and the really stupid Soap dynamic I’ve got going. Feel free to tell me if you do!

GhostxSoap

TW: The whole gosh darn thing is just gaslighting, but this time, from Ghost’s perspective!! (It’s horrible. I made this man awful, please be careful if you are Pookie!Ghost enjoyer.)

Dog Bleeding Goodness (3)

Ghost lived and died a hundred times each day, a constant raging storm between him and whatever spark of him still craved to be good. That tiny thing, wrapped up inside him had died more than he had, constantly subjected to being stabbed again and again by Ghost’s lack of humanity.

Whatever had happened with him and Roba, well, it did a mighty fine job to kill Simon, leaving only a shell left to rot a wasteland.

Leaving Ghost, alone, to make himself something within nothing, to make better choices and have an impact on the goodness of this world.

He chose to burn it instead, let his hungry and rabid fangs sink in until everything he bit was just as rabid and disgusting as him. He sunk his teeth into anything, anything with or without a pulse. Ghost let anything he bit go mad, let them loose a greater part of themselves until he felt justice for the crimes committed against him.

He tore and tore until nothing was left to tear, he bit and bit until the blood of the innocence paid the weight of the blood he lost.

Ever the cruel man, ever the regular man.

He liked biting certain things more than others, just as dogs had a favorite toy. His favorite things to watch go mad were things that weren’t used to it, things that withered and cried when even the tiniest bit of bad entered their veins. Things that didn’t know what to do when they were dismantled and put back together in a shape not like their own anymore.

They were his favorite because he saw himself in them, or what was before him, and he wanted to kill whatever was before him so that maybe, he’d forget just as fast as he would have justice.

And Soap was a good man, good just came naturally as did blindness, one did not exist without the others presence. Likewise Soap was just as good as he was blind.

Blind to how Ghost stared with ugly intent, how he twisted and contorted within himself as he thought of ripping that pretty throat of the Scotsman in two.

And he was too good to notice, too sweet and loving. There was a youthfulness to him, the kind that just begged to be ruined and smothered into the concrete below, until all that was left was a defiled mess.

Ghost knew that’s what Soap wanted, whether he knew what to name it or not. Men like him were all the same, they just didn’t know what to call their deep need to be destroyed and ruined, to have their goodness burnt at the stake while they were made to watch. But Ghost would help, he’d give that pretty sergeant the words he was looking for and he’d change his shape until it was something that pleased the lieutenant, because that’s what Soap wanted.

That’s what he needed.

He was just too blind to see it yet, so Ghost would lend him his eyes.

“Keep your head on the ground, air head.”

The lieutenant curled in around his own throat, his voice a rough sand paper that he knew Soap felt trail down his spine. Knew his words hurt like hell but that Soap really wasn’t keen on them not, things like him craved pain whether they knew it or not.

He saw it, saw Soap long for more vile and cruel words fixed in between barely there praise, that’s what the red on his face was. That’s why by the heavens Ghost swore he could hear the sound of Soap’s pathetic whimpering as they laid upon hot grounds with their snipers trained on the target house.

They weren’t close, physically that is. The distance between them paramount but essential if any good shots were aimed to be made. Their distance more focused on the mission, more centered around addressing the bigger threat, like the human trafficker they were aiming to pop the head of.

However important; it irked Ghost. He wanted that sergeant right up by him, hear him make snide remarks as if he wouldn’t be alone at his bunk tonight, making a fool out of himself wishing it were Ghost.

The sand dug into his belly, his gear did little to hide the pin pricks of fine and coarse sand. He could feel it, swore that he could feel it up his spine.

It almost made him squirm, made him move just a little to relieve the ache, but he was too trained. Price, the easily recognizable but yet hard to describe captain, had ensured he only picked men who could handle their own. Little bit of sand and too much squirming, it was a recipe for disaster, corporal punishment.

He knew Price, knew he had people wrapped up in his finger with how sweet he appeared, how he could make men sing acapella. It was a lie, carefully made to fool those too stupid to keep their own head somewhere beneficial.

But Soap, Soap was new, didn’t yet know the well hidden wrath of their captain, so he squirmed. Good things were too centered around themselves when they weren’t paying attention, saw themselves as god like and dressed up their love for humanity. So when nobody was watching, not even themselves, they were selfish.

And selfishness, no matter how endorsed it was upon their senior officers, wouldn’t go unpunished.

“Lay still sergeant, or I won’t bother carrying your dead body back.”

Despite his slightly nicer than usual, it really wasn’t, Soap didn’t settle.

He thought he was slick, Ghost knew why he wasn’t, so he entertained his squirming by threat. All good puppies liked to be threatened, liked to be thrown on their back, liked to have their crap kicked into them until they were molded into obedience, not goodness.

“My office after this mission.”

And that threat was clear.

[ohnomytummy]

Ok so let's say if I woke up in the middle of the night with an urgent, cramping belly ache and I knew exactly what caused it (icecream, a large cheese pizza (I'm lactose intolerant) and a bottle of coke) and you got to do whatever you want to my belly (punishment hint hint nudge nudge)... what would you do?

Well first, I don’t know if you assumed I’d be sending you to bed with a plug in, but if not you need to re-organize your thoughts ;)

I’m also assuming I’d get to watch you devour your huge meal of dairy and grease and sugar and drool over your growing gut, knowing you’ll be suffering from your choices very shortly. You’d start eating with the plug in btw…gotta show that belly who’s boss, after all.

(This may get long idk)

When you finish, you’re claiming nothing but a full bloated stomach, but I can hear your insides squirm and whine from across the table. I haven’t touched you. You fed yourself like the good eater you are, and I glued my eyes to you while you ate and ate. I know whats in your belly, and I know how fast ice cream runs through you when it’s the ONLY dairy you’ve eaten that day. I can see your eyes pleading. Your tummy hurts already, so so badly…so fast…you ate everything so fast…oh dear…

Your act isn’t on for long though, and a few minutes later you’re burping and moaning and telling me how you can feel your tummy sloshing over the mound of pizza inside you. I urge you to bed, changing your tight (but unbuttoned) jeans to my loosest boxers…and even they struggle to contain your pizza gut. As I’m helping you slide them on, I hear a different kind of…slipping. Your lower belly whines so deeply, you might as well have a river in your colon. It’s so close to your plug, but it can’t escape—moments later a wet, rattling burp comes from your lips. “Sounds like that cheese is coming to the surface,” I tease, letting you waddle shirtless to the bed.

At first I let you attempt to sleep aka lie to yourself. Your tossing and turning. I’m waiting for you to…and quickly you do: grasp my hand, moaning “baby…my tummy…” and an arm moves loosely in front of your bulbous belly, protecting it’s cramping mess from more pain (or our signal…sadistic of us…).

I first kiss you, letting you lean into the moment with me while I climb on top of your hips. As we kiss I slowly move my hands over the solid food filled mound that is your top belly, caressing your skin and running my nails lightly over your most sensitive spots. But when my hands reach their peak, I break the kiss, grin gently down at you, and push. Hard.

You grab my wrists and moan almost loudly enough to block the sound of your belly rushing up your throat, forcing you to gag (you felt so awful climbing into bed, you barely noticed the towels I laid all over your side of the bed and the floor). My weight forces your legs still, so you have to use your upset belly’s minimal muscles to twist your body as you hic, sputter and burp the sick from your mouth and onto the dirty brown towel below.

As you finish puking, I kiss your neck and shoulders and sides gently. When the last of round one has left your lips you turn to collapse back on the bed while your hands achingly rub your still massive gutt. “You made me throw up.” You say cutely…cluelessly…full of tummy ache. I chuckle at your empty, pain and lust filled mind, while your belly continues to omit ugly sounding gurgles. “Uh oh,” you mutter before turning back over the side of the bed and puking up round two, the floor now a clear mess. Your mess…

This goes on for a bit. The puking. Hurling. Stomach ache filled with hard tummy rubs and a mix of moans, pleasure and pain at war in your belly.

But then, the gurgles change…they get…deeper. Lower, more drawn out. And your hands are now gripping the space between your boxer hem and belly. “No…” Your legs curl into your tummy as a cramp rips through you. “Uh-uh baby,” I say, as I force your legs down and uncurl your body. “You let me take care of that.”

You give me that soft, pained, wet look: “Yes, sir.”

And the game begins.

For the next…however long you can last…I meet each of your horrible cramps with a deep belly rub, a hard push, encouragement, if you will. I cuddle you big spoon style and you hold my hands to your belly. Our legs lock together to keep you from curling into yourself as your gluttony rocks your insides.

The plug forces you to keep everything in, and I’m challenging you to let it out. You moan and whimper, “my tummy…oh god it’s coming back…*buuurrrrppp* nnnnoooo goooddddd…”

Our thighs are sticky, our underwear soaked through. I continue palpating your abdomen, kissing your neck and back, and telling you sweet nothings, how good you are at filling your belly and keeping it in, until you give me the final signal. When the desperation is too much and you need the bathroom and you need the bathroom now.

I carry your cramping belly and you to the toilet and put you down, letting you pull out the plug, both of us red with a mix of embarrassment, shame, and classic dirty horny sex as your tummy violently empties itself.

I stay as close as you let me, respecting your space but wanting to help you get through the most painful part of the night.

And then we’d go to sleep. Obviously 🤭

[causekarmaismyboyfriend]

Annoying Boy

PT.2 HERE

Fem!14yr!Reader x 14yr!Ranpo

Summary: Your father, Fukuzawa, brings home Ranpo and you're left to deal with him. His 'special ability' reveals some cracks in the story your father has always told you regarding your mother's death.

Warnings: Fukuzawa somewhat neglection and disregarding reader's feelings(?), Mention of a mother's death.

A/N: Part 2 if this does good? Proofread✅

The heels of their feet thump against the matted carpet of the hallway as Fukuzawa leads Ranpo to his apartment.

"Here." Fukuzawa stops in front of the door, Ranpo observes the ragged hallway as the older man reaches into his sleeves to retrieve his keys.

Ranpo messes with a part of the ugly green carpet that had begun sticking up at the edges, using the front of his shoe to step on it in an attempt to stick it back down to the concrete it laid on. He cringes at the sound it makes when it rips from the concrete to stick back up again. He hums a sound of confusion when he realizes that Fukuzawa hasn't opened the door and let them in yet.

Fukuzawa sighs and turns towards the younger boy. "I forgot to tell you," Fukuzawa puts the key into the lock after missing one or two times that Ranpo finds himself holding back laughter at. "I have a daughter, Y/N, around your age." He turns the key and pushes the door open. "Her old bed is still in her room it's a little old and beat up, but it should be fine, so you'll be sharing." Fukuzawa closes the door behind them. Next to the shoe rack was a bicycle. Fukuzawa notices Ranpo observing the bike. "Some things are best left unsaid."

Ranpo huffs as the two begin taking their shoes off. The thought of having to share a bedroom with someone he hasn't even met yet annoyed him. Why couldn't he just make his daughter sleep on the couch? He follows Fukuzawa through the apartment, examining all the rooms he goes through. The apartment was small only two bedrooms with one bathroom. He noticed as he walked past the dining table that there was only two chairs and he wondered if Fukuzawa would be bothered to get a third. In the corner of the table was a framed photo of a black cat with big yellow eyes, imbedded in the frame was 'Mr. Paws.' He hadn't seen a cat or any food or water bowls since he entered, so he assumed the cat died or something not bothering to put much though into it.

They stop at a door down the hallway with peeling white paint. Faint music seeps from under the door. Fukuzawa knocks on the door a few times before speaking. "Y/N? Turn that down and open the door." He wiggles the doorknob of the locked door.

Behind the door the music barely lowers and Fukuzawa rolls his eyes before the door clicks unlock and opens. The music seems louder through the open doorway. Y/N leans on the doorframe, glancing at Ranpo and then looking away deciding he wasn't important enough to ask about. She looks at her father with a bored expression. "What?"

Fukuzawa clears his throat. Ranpo takes notice of the similarities of their personalities as they interact. Fukuzawa gestures to Ranpo. "This is Ranpo. He needs somewhere to stay, so he'll be here."

Y/N shrugs. "Okay." Silence takes over the three. Fukuzawa raises his eyebrows at his daughter and motions behind her to the abandoned bed that sat in the corner of the room. She groans and slumps dramatically. "Dad, no, I don't know him." She complains and points to Ranpo.

Ranpo crosses his arms and his eyebrow twitches as she talks. "Then why don't you sleep on the couch and I take the room?"

Y/N's eyebrows scrunch together and she pushes off the doorframe, stepping closer to Ranpo. "Excuse me-?"

Fukuzawa steps in-between the two and holds up a hand in front of both their faces. "Okay, that's enough." He lowers his hands and turns towards Y/N while still staying in-between them. "Ranpo will be using the extra bed in your room and if you have a problem with it then you can sleep in the living room."

Y/N's mouth falls agape as her frustration intensifies and her face flushes. "Well, why can't he take the bed and share a room with you-?"

"Y/N, I told you what was going to happen." Fukuzawa hisses.

Y/N tightens her lips into a thin line. "Fine."

Fukuzawa nods. "Good." He looks between the two before speaking again. "I'm going to cook dinner, okay?" The two nod. In the music that is still blaring from the room a curse word is mustered while Fukuzawa is walking away. "And turn that off!" He demands before disappearing around the corner at the end of the hallway.

Y/N groans and glares at the boy left in front of her before turning on her heel and walking back into her- their room. Ranpo follows behind her and watches as she shuts the music off. He walks over to the old bed. The frame is dark brown with random scribbles over it's wood. There wasn't a sheet or any blankets or pillows.

He turns back to Y/N's side of the room, she climbs up the ladder leading up to her loft bed, underneath it was a desk with a laptop and a display of framed pictures and other random trinkets. It creaks as she settles against the pillows.

Ranpo sets his backpack at the foot of his new bed before making his way to her desk and picking up one of the photos, not bothering to ask permission. He instantly recognized Fukuzawa standing behind a chair where a women sat and was holding a little girl in her lap. All three of them were smiling widely. Y/N stops the action of putting her headphones on and leans over the railing to look at him.

"What are you doing?" She asks harshly, moving towards the ladder to make her way back down. "Don't touch my stuff." She snatches the photo from him and places it back in its place.

"That's your mom, right?" He asks. Y/N glares at him.

"Why do you care?" Ranpo shrugs and Y/N scoffs climbing back up to her bed. "Don't touch my stuff anymore." She puts her headphones over her ears and ignores any other words from him.

Ranpo shrugs, this time to himself, and sits on the old bed. He moves into a lying position the stiff mattress and lack of pillows uncomfortable against his back and neck.

A few minutes go by the only sound being Fukuzawa in the kitchen until Y/N breaks the silence. "She died awhile ago," Y/N turns off her phone and sets it in her lap, staring at the ceiling. "When I was really little."

Ranpo blows air through his lips. Controlling the timing between each blow to make some kind of rhythm. When he doesn't reply Y/N picks her phone back up.

"I know." He says suddenly.

Y/N rolls her eyes. "Oh," She turns the phone off again. "Did Dad tell you?"

Ranpo sits up and turns to look at Y/N. He shakes his head. "No, I just know."

Y/N scoffs. "Yeah, right." She turns the phone on again and begins scrolling back through her playlist.

"It's true!" Ranpo stands up and proudly places his hands on his hips. "I'm a genius detective- the greatest in the world! I helped your Dad solve a case and because I have no home or job he's giving me both!" He removes one of his hands off his hip and holds up two fingers.

Y/N stares blankly at him from up on the loft. "Yeah, and now I'm stuck with you."

"A honor, really."

"Really?"

Ranpo nods. "Yep!" Ranpo makes his way towards her bed again this time to climb up the ladder. Despite her protests he climbs up to join her on the mattress, staying at the foot of the bed.

"Hey!" She waves her hands towards him. Motioning for him to get off. "Get off my bed Detective Jackass!"

Ranpo holds a finger out in front of her face. "Not until I prove to you that I am the greatest detective!" He pulls his hand back. "I'll start by telling you how your mother died."

Y/N's eyebrows scrunch and she crosses her arms. "Okay, I wouldn't be surprised if you got it by just guessing." She admits.

Ranpo smiles and reaches into his pocket to pull out a pair of glasses. Y/N raises a brow. He places them on his face, pushing them up on the bridge of his nose with a finger. Opening his eyes for the first time since they've met. Y/N took note of their bright emerald green colour, distracted she missed what he said.

"Sorry, what?"

"I said," He takes the glasses off and shoves them back in his pocket. "You killed her."

Y/N huffs out a laugh and stares at him in confusion. "Excuse me? And what were those glasses for? Special effect?"

Ranpo shakes his head. "Your dad covered up the incident by lying to you and saying she died in a car crash. You were too young to remember, so it probably wasn't that hard to keep up the lie for years."

She was beginning to feel angry with the boy again. He showed up out of no where, insisted he was some weird super genius and then started sprouting random lies about her mother.

"I think you've lost your goddamn mind." She gritted her teeth.

"He tried to comfort you by getting you a cat, Mr. Paws, but he ran away a year later." When Y/N didn't say anything he continued. "You hate cars because of what he told you, so you prefer riding bikes or just walking-"

"Okay, stop!" She holds both her hands up. "None of that proves anything. You're just saying bullshit."

Ranpo smiles again. "But nobody has told me these things, so how could I have known?" Y/N's eyebrow twitches as she stares down the grinning boy.

Fukuzawa walks in through the open doorway. He glares at Ranpo who sits on his daughter's bed. "Okay, a rule starting right now is that you two are not allowed to sit on each other's beds with each other."

Y/N claps her hands together as if in a prayer. "Thank, God."

Fukuzawa sighs and motions for both of them to get down. "Come in here, dinners ready." He disappears out the bedroom door.

[mal-urameshi]

Jealous Shuri or Riri

I gotchu covered.

Warnings: Angst, baby!!!! Let's goooo!!!

“You’re absolutely beautiful. When you smile at me, sometimes I feel like I’m about to pass out. Your intelligence is very admirable. There is nobody else like you and I hope you know that. Your kindness enhances your aura, Riri. Your selflessness knows no bounds and I can’t help but compare myself to you. How can I be great like her? I find myself asking. Because she’s perfect in every way possible. Sorry about the rambling. What I wrote in this envelope is more concise, but I had to tell you how I feel. I really like you, Riri. More than anybody else. Will you go out with me?”

Riri awkwardly stood in front of the boy as he laid his heart bare to her. She tried to maintain eye-contact with him throughout his confession out of respect, but she couldn’t help her facial expressions. Bast, hopefully they didn’t come across as rude.

Honestly, when he called her to a secluded part of the school after the last bell rang, where it would be just the two of them, she was half-expecting him to bribe her to do his homework or something since he mentioned he was having a hard time in passing. But a love confession was completely off her radar.

The boy, Sipho, had an optimistic countenance as he had a purple envelope in hand, sealed with a yellow heart-shaped sticker. Along with the envelope, he had a bouquet of Lily of the Nile, and a small gift basket that contained, from what Riri could see, chocolate and some cookies.

Bast. Riri felt like absolute shit about what she was about to do. Sipho was a nice boy. He wasn’t ugly or anything. He was well-mannered and funny. He just….wasn’t her type. 

“Sipho, look. I appreciate the thought you put into this. Because just looking at all of this,” She gestured to everything he was holding, “You put a lot of heart into it. You really did your thing.”

Riri screwed her eyes shut, feeling like complete and utter crap.

“But I like girls. So it won’t ever work out. I’m sorry.”

Sipho visibly deflated, “Only girls? Not both girls and guys?”

Riri silently shook her head, “Sorry, Sipho. You’re a really nice dude. You’d make a really good boyfriend for a really lucky girl. The girl just ain’t me.”

Sipho silently nodded, “I understand.” He walked up to Riri and handed her the gifts.

“Wait, no, no. I just rejected you. I can’t accept this stuff.”

Sipho shook his head, “No, I insist. They were intended for you anyway. So take it. I’m not angry or anything, don’t worry.” He gave a sullen smile.

Riri silently nodded her head, “Thanks. I’m sure the cookies are nice.”

“Yea. My Umama’s secret recipe. But I gotta go now. Take care, Riri.” Sipho said before he walked off.

Riri looked at the gift basket full of snacks; she could share these with Shuri! 

Riri kneeled down to place the stuff in her bag. The envelope caught her attention. Curious, she ripped it open, but before she could read its contents, her beads pinged. Riri dropped the card in her bag and zipped it up.

“Hey, Shuri!” She smiled and stood back up.

“Hi, Riri! Are you still coming over?”

“For sure! I just got caught up with something.”

“Okay, great! The meeting got canceled so you can come straight here.”

“Alright, no biggie. I’ll be at the Citadel in a bit.”

When Riri arrived, Shuri was already at the entrance waiting for her.

“Yo!” Riri greeted.

“Finally! We talked like…almost half an hour ago. What took you so long?” Shuri fell into step with Riri as she walked down the hall.

“I was enjoying the views. Talking to people here and there. Hugging trees. Just enjoying existence, you know?”

Shuri nodded, “Are you adopting the ways of the hippy now?”

“Uh, no. Never.” She laughed.

They both found themselves in Shuri’s room. Riri had immediately gone to the mini-fridge to get herself and Shuri something to drink. Riri flopped herself on a vacant beanbag while sipping on a juice pouch and Shuri hung over her bed, doing the same.

“I have this assignment that’s due for Miss Anagonye. I mean, I already started it and it’s almost done, but ugh, that lady is so picky. I had to change it up like 4 different times because she kept adding shit to the outline. I swear, why doesn’t the school make her retire?”

Shuri sucked on her pouch, “Maybe it is because she is such a legend, having made a lot of contributions to the modern…moderner? Advancements of Wakanda. Plus you know how elders are, always picky with everything.”

“That lady is a dinosaur regardless. She’s probably as old as your ancestor, Bashenga. She’s practically stardust.” Riri snickered.

“You’re so bad, Riri. Academia is her calling.”

“Nah, a grave is calling her.” Riri dodged a pillow that was hurled her way by Shuri.

“Anywaaaaay, what did you do today?”

Shuri sucked on her juice, “I was excited for most of the day because I had my presentations ready for the improvements to the design group. And T’Challa was giving me affirmations and encouragement that I am most definitely ready to take on full responsibility for research and technological advancements of Wakanda.”

Shuri blew a raspberry, “But it was pushed back because the elders wanted to have a council meeting again with my Father, Mother, and T’Challa to make sure that a child is ready to fill such big shoes.”

“Man, this is why old people are still teaching at the school, bruh. Those oldheads just dunno when to let go. I think it’s cuz they ain’t got no purpose in life after they retire. Like yo…you ain’t gotta worry bout making ends meet regardless. What’s the big deal? Us young people are super capable. But again, just cuz they old and have some wisdom they think they know everything.”

“You just have it out for the elders today, eh?” Shuri laughed.

“I’m telling you. I’m gonna do a dance for joy when Miss Anagonye retires.” She sipped from her juice.

“But don’t worry, Shuri. You’re gonna be head of the Design Group and anything else. T’Challa will sweet talk those salty codgers with that honeyed tongue of his. You’re smarter than anybody else they have lined up for the job. They’ll see straight. They have no choice.”

Shuri kicked her feet in the air with a grin, “Thanks Riri. I needed that. Anything else interesting happened at school today?”

Riri shook her head before she occupied herself with turning on Shuri’s gaming system and rifled through the available titles, “Oh right,” She mumbled absentmindedly as she scrolled, “I brought some snacks. It’s in my bag.”

Shuri rolled off the bed, walked over to Riri’s backpack and opened it. She spotted the gift basket full of snacks and took it out, but noticed a card fall open along with it.

Not being able to help herself when she picked it up, her eyes scanned the words.

Riri,

Your eyes remind me so much of the Earth,

Beautifully rich and full of life paired with a laugh that bubbles with mirth.

You move with such grace and elegance

Paired with a mind that harbors unmatched intelligence.

Your smile lights up a room with its brilliance

Coupled with a mindset that embodies resilience

Your heart is kind and pure and gentle

In your presence I can’t help but be sentimental. 

You make my heart skip more than one beat

These feelings I harbor- I cannot retreat. 

Whether returned in full or never at all

Just know that I love you

No matter the chances how small.

Love, Sipho.

Shuri’s grip on the card tightened as she read through the love confession. She looked at the gift basket that had a tag on it. She flipped it and say that it said ‘To: Riri. Love Sipho.’ This Sipho boy even dotted the ‘i’s’ with hearts.

She looked at the basket and then at the card and then over at Riri who was preoccupied with the game. Did Riri accept his confession? She clearly had to since she had his card and snacks. So this Sipho boy was now her boyfriend? Her eyes caught the bouquet of the Lily of the Nile as well.

Shuri ground her teeth and angrily zipped back up Riri’s bag and shoved it back in the corner.

“Yo, easy on the merchandise.” Riri called after Shuri, though her eyes never left the screen.

Shuri walked over to Riri and borderline threw the basket of snacks into her lap before flopping on the bed. Shuri knew she was behaving outrageous. Riri could have a boyfriend if she so pleased. But she thought she liked girls? Why the sudden switch now? Bast, this was annoying.

A boy?!

Riri paused the game and looked over at Shuri, “Yo, what’s your problem? You didn’t have to throw it at me like that.”

Shuri closed her eyes to roll them, “It’s nothing. Play your stupid game.”

Ugh! Shuri hated how she couldn’t rid herself of the irritation in her voice. Was she too slow to say something? But if she said something, it might ruin the friendship. Dammit!

“Nah, it’s definitely something with you being all pissy like that. Talk. You know I don’t play that shit. If you have something to say, say it.” Riri cracked her knuckle to stave off her irritation. Because what the fuck? One minute Shuri was cool and now she did a complete 180.

Shuri rolled over on the bed with her back to Riri, “I said it’s nothing.”

“I will get the fuck up out your place right now if you don’t tell me what’s up, Shuri. Cuz I’m feeling like shit right now. You always do this crap. I always have to pry you open like a damn clam for you to talk about certain shit. I’m getting tired of it.”

Shuri sat up on the bed and looked over at Riri, “I didn’t think we’d be keeping secrets from each other.”

“Secret? What the hell are you talking about?” Riri shook her head, was Shuri going off the deep end now?

“I ask you about your day and you fail to tell me you have a boyfriend now? You wanted me to find the snacks he gave you and everything as a present? That love confession of a poem? Flowers!” Shuri had to keep her tone in check because Bast, she would never forgive herself if her voice broke. 

“I thought you liked girls, anyway?” She mumbled as she cast her eyes downward.

Riri rubbed her head, “Oh my God. I won’t lie. I was tryna forget that happened, okay?”

Shuri didn’t bother with replying.

Riri walked over and joined Shuri on the bed while busting open the clear wrapping of the basket, “I ain’t got no boyfriend. Sipho had a crush on me. And he confessed earlier today. But I did in fact turn him down and let him know it’ll never happen cuz I’m for the girls.”

Shuri looked at the basket and then at Riri, “Then why did you keep his card where he professed his love to you?”

“You read that?” Riri side-eyed her.

“Yea. It fell out of the bag. Why did you keep it anyway if you rejected him? You don’t have to lie-”

“Lie?” Riri stood up, “What do you mean lie? I ain’t lyin’ bout shit. I just told you I rejected him!”

“Then why are you hoarding his love letters?” Shuri angrily pointed at the bag on the floor.

“Why are you going through my shit? I didn’t even read what he said in that letter.”

“You knew it was a confession! Obviously it had his feelings in it, genius!”

“Back the hell up, why are you so mad right now? And putting my sexuality into question? You wrong for that.” Riri paced and took a deep breath. She just wanted to chill from school. Not deal with this bullshit.

“Why didn’t you just throw it away with his other presents if you like girls so much? If you don’t like him, why keep it? It seems you’re confused.” Shuri hated how irrational she was being. But the thought of Riri even entertaining someone else…

“Con- I’m not a heartless bitch, Shuri! The guy wanted me to have the snacks and letter so I just took it out of kindness. I said I woulda shared the snacks with you! Like I’m trying to do right now, but you’re being a fricken jerk!” Riri kicked the rug in front of Shuri’s bed in irritation before kicking it back to its rightful place.

Shuri rubbed the bridge of her nose and bit the inside of her lip. She glared at the gift basket of snacks with displeasure. She didn’t want to eat any of those snacks made from ‘Sipho’s love for Riri. She didn’t even want that on her bed. 

“Man, screw this. Talk to me when you get over yourself. I’m going home.” Riri picked up the gift basket and her bag and left the room.

“Bast.” Shuri rubbed a hand over her face and through her braids, “I messed up.”

Shuri found herself in her mother’s chambers, relating what happened.

“And she had the audacity to want to share his cookies with me. I don’t want to eat treats from someone who wants Riri for himself.” Shuri huffed and groaned as she rambled.

Ramonda looked on as her daughter worked herself up, “Shuri, come.” She pat the seat next to her.

Shuri came over and heavily sat down next to her mother.

“Have you stopped to think that you are confusing Riri?” She asked gently.

“Confusing her? How?”

Ramonda took a breath “Well, Shuri, Riri does not know that you like her. So your outburst came to her as a surprise. And she is rightfully confused. And angry.”

Shuri clasped her hands together. That was correct.

“And you questioning her sexuality was also very, very wrong, my child.”

Shuri winced, she knew it was a low blow to do that. “I was just so angry at the thought of her having a boyfriend. I’d definitely be a better match for her.”

Ramonda smiled, "Then why don’t you tell her your feelings?”

Shuri swiftly shook her head, “No, Mother. It would ruin the friendship if the feelings aren’t reciprocated. You know this.”

Ramonda nodded, “Yes, I know this. But would it be any more ruined than it might be now? You said some very hurtful things to your supposedly good friend. To the girl you….love?”

Shuri bounced her legs anxiously.

“And should a boy not confess his feelings next time, but a girl who she so happens to like back. What then? Will you lash out at her for being with the first girl that asked her out?”

Shuri hung her head in her turmoil.

Riri sobbed into Okoye’s neck, “And..and she- she said I must be confused. I tried so hard not to cry right there, Mama.” 

Okoye rubbed Riri’s back and supplied her with kisses to help placate her daughter.

Clearly this was Shuri lashing out because of her untold feeling for Riri, but Okoye didn’t voice it. Riri should figure it out eventually. She just continued rubbing soothing circles on Riri’s back.

“Shuri will come to her senses, Riri. Don’t worry.”

“She pissed me off so bad, Mama. I literally felt physically sick when I left. She didn’t even stop me or anything.”

Okoye hugged Riri tighter, “I know it hurts, my love. But you both always make up, right? That’s the great thing about your relationship with her. You can never stay cross for long.”

Riri sniffled and rubbed her forehead, feeling a headache coming on, “I’m gonna go sleep, Mama.”

Okoye gave Riri another kiss, “All right, my Pebble. Rest well.”

Riri walked to her room and slipped under her sheets, falling asleep almost immediately.

Later that evening, Riri saw that she had a few missed calls on her beads from Shuri. She didn’t even return the calls, deciding to deal with that later.

Riri walked outside and smelled dinner. She walked into the kitchen to see if her mother needed any help but paused when she saw Shuri there, plating out the food with her mother.

“What are you doing here?” Riri eyed her wearily.

Shuri set down a plate, “I came to talk to you.”

“Ma, you let her in?”

Okoye gave Riri a look, “Since when have I ever turned her way, child? Come sit and eat.”

Riri sat at the table, opposite Shuri. She decided to stay out of the conversation unless her mother prompted her. And she made sure to avoid eye contact every time Shuri tried to catch her gaze.

Once dinner was over, Shuri offered Okoye to help wash up.

Riri used this time to escape to her room. 

Around twenty minutes later, a knock came to her door.

“Come in.” By the power of Bast, maybe it was just her mother and Shuri went home already.

The door slowly opened to reveal Shuri.

“Hey, Riri.”

Riri gazed at the ceiling, “Yo.”

Shuri closed the door and walked further into the room with her hands behind her back, “I came to apologize about my behavior this afternoon.”

Riri just glanced over at Shuri.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for making you feel so bad. I am sorry for acting so irrational. I’m sorry for those hurtful things I said.”

Shuri wanted to sit down, but she didn’t want to push the envelope too much.

“Why did you say them in the first place, Shuri? Do you just like making me feel like crap from time to time?” Riri kept her eyes upward to prevent any more tears from falling.

“No, don’t say that. I don’t like making you feel that way.”

“Then why do I feel that way, Shuri?” 

Shuri took a hand from behind her back and rubbed it down her face. Should she say it? But what if it ruins them beyond repair? Should she take the risk?

“You’re spacing out on me.”

Shuri looked over at Riri, “Making you hurt is never my intention. I care about you too much for that. I..I..The reason I behaved in such a manner earlier...”

Riri sat up on her elbows, “Yea?”

Shuri took a staggering breath, “I behaved like that because…”

Riri held her breath as her heart hammered in her chest.

“I care about you so much. We’ve been friends for so long and we were two peas in a pod. We are two peas in a pod. I was just…scared. I acted irrationally thinking that you getting a boyfriend…any relationship in general would cause us to drift apart. And you’d forget about me. So I lashed out.”

Shit.

Riri looked at Shuri. Really looked at her before she cracked a smile.

Fuck.

“You know that’d never happen. Nobody could ever replace you.”

She copped out.

Shuri smiled back before pulling out a gift bag from behind her back, “I brought these snacks as a peace offering. I even put some Oreos in there too.”

Riri sat up straighter on the bed and clapped excitedly, “Yes!” She grabbed up the bag and rummaged through it with feral vigor.

Ha. It feels good knowing Sipho could never make her excited like this at least.

“Thanks, Shuri.”

Shuri just smiled.

‘’Get over here!’’ Riri gestured for Shuri to come sit on the bed, which she did.

She enveloped Shuri in a hug, to which she excitedly hugged back.

“I forgive you. Thanks for apologizing.”

“You shouldn’t thank me. It was the proper thing to do.” She rested her chin on Riri’s shoulder.

Riri hugged Shuri tighter as she stared at an imaginary spot on the wall.

Shame on her for assuming Shuri was going to confess. She definitely didn’t like her like that.

Taggies: @somethingcleaverandwhitty @karimwillia @neptoons1998 @pantherheart

[starlightazriel]

a court of love and scars

other parts

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

part 11, Azriel

There was nothing else running through my mind besides the pure instinct to protect my mate. My mate. Rhys had been right.

Even though I had been denying it, I had known it since the first day I laid eyes on her, the moment I saved her. Denial was obviously easier than facing the truth, or simply just not even entertaining the thought because nothing is worse than false hope. But here I was, and Rhys was right.

My shields were up. Blocking him out of my mind completely though I could feel him fighting to get in. He was strong, but I was too, and when I really wanted to I could keep him out.

The journey alone would take at least a day. I should have killed him the first time I was there, when I was spying, looking for the threat when Gwen thought I was avoiding her because we kissed. How wrong she had been, it had been all I thought about the entire three weeks I was gone.

I travelled through the shadows and over the sea, I didn't stop, I didn't stop to eat, didn't stop to rest or to let my walls down so I could speak to Rhysand. I was determined. So long had I waited, thinking that I would never get to have that pure love of a mating bond. I wasn't going to let it go now, I would eliminate any threat to that.

The closer I got to the island where the prince of bones dwelled the darker the sea got. Until it was almost pitch black, angry swirling waves crashing against the sharp jagged rocks. I realized as I got closer, slipping through the shadows and cracks of rocks, I realized I didn't have a plan at all. I had come here, blinded by rage, not thinking clearly about anything.

What's the point of killing him if I couldn't even go home to her and tell her that she is my mate?

Alright Az, plan, you need a plan. I was hidden in shadows, in the main throne room, listening, watching.

"The shadow singer is not in Velaris, and one of Rhysands females took Jac, probably dead," it was a creature that hissed this, I had learned from last time I was here the creature was called Alun, and from what it seemed he was the princes' second hand man. Alun was similar to the Attor, wicked and ugly, smelled of rotten flesh.

"If the shadow singer is not in Velaris," the prince grimaced, tapping long bony fingers against his black jeweled throne, "He could very well be here, are you too dull to think of that?" He growled at Alun, baring his teeth at him, the disgusting creature cowered and I wondered what kind of powers the prince had that made this hideous creature bow to him. Every time I had been here, the prince merely sat at his throne and lazed about, he was a nasty sort, and kept company of a nasty lot.

Anger twisted in my gut at the thought of Gwen here. No female belonged here, let alone my Gwen. He had made what he called a bedroom for her last time I had been here, and it had taken everything in me not to rip it to shreds. It had been dark, no windows, just a bed with chains, a heavy lock on the door, a toilet and a sink. It was a prison cell if I had ever seen one.

"Of course your majesty," Alun stuttered, bowing his head. "How foolish of me I will send every guard searching through the Island if the shadow singer is here, we will find him," he bows again before scurrying off, the other guards that had been gathered about the throne room followed after him. Only one remained by the side of the throne. The prince scoffed after them, muttering something to the one remaining guard about imbeciles. This is going to be my chance.

I knew it wasn't smart, I thought of many things that could go wrong, but my pride got in the way. My need to protect Gwen from anything that threatened her newly found freedom. Even if I died here, killing him, and she never even knew that I was her mate, at least she would be free. At least she could wake up every day and the sun could kiss that beautiful golden skin. I didn't even really know what I was up against with the prince, I knew he was ancient, and I knew he had to be angry. Stuck, confined to this island for the past 400 years, no hope of leaving. If he tried to leave this island the black water would swallow him up whole and spit out his bones on the very beach he tried to leave from.

"Smart thinking, your majesty," I dropped down to floor in one swift movement, I had a shield around myself, remembering I didn't even know the extent of the princes power. My lips twitched in amusement, masking any doubt I had with casual indifference.

His guard lunged forward but stopped when the prince raised his hand up in the air. "What do you want, shadowsinger?" The prince of bones tilted his chin up, his start white skin showing just a bit underneath the mask that he wore, it was painted to look like skin. I had seen him only once without his mask, and the image had burned into my mind, skin white as paper all around the edges of his face but the middle was all bone. No nose, no lips, just bones, teeth, and eyes, veins and blood. Part of his curse, I had heard that long ago he had been beautiful.

"l want you to keep your filthy spy's out of my court, I want you to stop hunting the princess, and I want you to get any idea out of your mind that she will bare a babe with you to break your curse. It is not possible, you cannot have her, I will not allow it," I calmly say, flicking a bit of lint from the top of my hand, only lifting my eyes to meet his black ones when I had spoken my peace. He cackled, staring down at me from his throne, I sensed, mostly distaste, curiousity... A flicker of fear? My lips curled up in a cocky prideful smile, I shoved my hands into my pockets.

"And if not?" he challenged, raising a brow. He sized me up, sitting just a little bit straighter in his throne. "And if not..." I narrowed my eyes, taking one step forward, so did his guard, tho the prince kept his hand up. "If not I will kill you, I promise you that," I growl, my eyes burning into his. Killing him was what I had originally planned, but being alone, not knowing how strong he was, it stopped me.

"And what if I kill you right here first," he purrs, rising up to his feet, I straightened, holding my shield, it was like a dark bubble around me. I didn't say anything, I just let my power grow, siphons flare. He hesitated, his guard pushed up.

"Try," I laugh, not backing down, not showing any shred of fear. "Either you try and I kill you, or you succeed and kill me, and Rhys comes and wipes your little island off of the map for good," I bare my teeth at him, my lip curling in distaste. It happened fast, a blast of black power, not like Rhys, something inky, and a single arrow from the guard who was standing beside him. I jumped, twisting around and shooting my own blast of power directly at the kings heart, he screamed out in the same instance I did, the arrow piercing through one of my wings. Ash.. I groaned in pain, blasting another stream of power, killing the guard that was beside him. I have to get out of here.. I glanced around at my options, the creature, Alun burst back through the door. His face paled about 5 shades. I threw more of my power at him and he slammed against the wall.

Have to get out of here.

More guards piled in, I aimlessly shot my power, screaming out again when I felt my other wing tear. I was weakened I could feel it, as long as they didn't hit me with another ash arrow... Nothing was going through my mind besides getting out, he wasn't dead, but the prince was injured for sure. I kept popping up in different places, hiding in the shadows best I could. I could hear him screaming from the throne room as I tore through the palace, slipping through any crack of darkness I could. The pain radiated through me. I cursed quietly, going a bit dizzy I leaned my head back on cold wet stone. Breathe Az, you're going to make it out. I opened up a sliver of my mind, knowing it would only work if Rhys was still listening in for me. I called out to him before shutting my mind back up, I didn't know if there were daemati here in this palace and I didn't want to risk it.

I let out a sigh of relief when I finally made it out of the palace, I staggered, slipping through the shadows down to the sea. I could hear guards shouting, looking searching for me. Fuck. I wouldn't be able to get off this island, not in this state. I'd have to hide until someone came for me.. Or until I was strong enough to get out of here myself..

What the fuck was I thinking?

I used my last bit of power to hide the entrance of a small cave that I stumbled into. I gasped quietly, pressing my hand to my ribs, there was a gash there, the blood still slowly leaking though it was starting to clot. I cursed, my face twisting up in pain and I tilted my head against the sharp wet rock.

"I'm sorry Gwen, I'm sorry I failed you and now I'm here and I'll probably die here and you'll never know that you are my mate and I am yours. I'm so fucking sorry," I breathed out, pressing one of my hands to my forehead, the other still holding my ribs, I winced. I fought to stay awake as long as I could, laying against the sharp edged rocks. It smelt like rotting fish and sea creatures, my nose stung with the salty smell.

My eyes grew heavy, head feeling dizzy, and my eyes slipped closed and I let the darkness take over, the pain slipping away.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

12 should be up tonight or tomorrow morning! had a little writers block for this one. let me know what you think! also feel free to send me one shot requests or anything of the sort i'll use your name even if you want ! also if you wanna see anything happen with az and gwen just drop by my ask ! xo

[sixhours]

Chapter 19 - The Ghosts of Babylon

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut and violence Series tags: Joel Miller x You, Joel Miller x Reader, Joel & Ellie, mostly follows canon, LGBTQ+ characters, y/n is bi/pan, y/n is ~45, violence, pregnancy, abortion, medical trauma, emotional trauma, panic attacks, sex work, suicide, smut, slow burn, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, romance, no use of y/n, reader has longish hair, Joel can lift you, smallish age gap (~11 years), I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

~*~

November 25, 2003 FEDRA QZ, Boston

It’s cold in the dorms, cold like a sterile operating room. You shiver on the FEDRA-issue cot, the sour taste of whiskey still burning your throat.

“Are you sure about this?” Anya is looking at you, frowning as you scoot lower on the cot in your shared room. “I’ve never done this before. I’m…”

She doesn’t say “scared” but you know what she means. You’re scared, too…but the alternative is terrifying. You take a second swig of the amber liquid and it burns slightly less. 

“It’s fine,” you say, all forced confidence. “Dilate, sweep the uterine cavity, flush with saline. With local anesthetic, I’ll barely feel it.”

She makes a low sound in her throat. “And you’re sure about the dates?”

You stare up at the water-stained ceiling tiles, the peeling paint on the trim. “Yeah.”

“Because you know the risks go up for every week of gestation past–”

“12 weeks,” you cut her off. “Let’s do this before the booze wears off, alright?”

You spread your legs, feet on the chairs on each side of the bed, makeshift stirrups. Your lower half is draped in an Army-issue gray sheet.

“You feel this?” Anya’s hands are careful between your thighs, and you nod. “Here?” This time, only a faint pressure as the speculum expands. You relax slightly; maybe you’re right. Maybe this won’t hurt.

The first dilator proves you wrong. You grit your teeth at the new sensation of your cervix being breached. Anya is a registered nurse, but she’s trained in palliative care. Abortions aren’t her specialty–as she’s already told you, many times.

But you can’t do it. You couldn’t imagine raising a child before cordyceps, and now…there’s no question, no choice.

Unfortunately, FEDRA doesn’t agree. This is why you and the only person you can call a friend are holed up in your room with the door locked and a stash of stolen supplies laid on your shared desk, one weak table lamp pointed at your crotch.

“Easy does it,” Anya says, hissing a little as the dilator slides into place. You grunt in response.

“Next one?”

“Yeah, do it.”

She does, and it’s much, much worse. You grip the edge of the bed and muffle a scream, Anya apologizing, wincing, apologizing again. 

“Two more to go,” she says. “Breathe through it for a bit, okay?”

“Need something…to bite on…or someone’s going…to hear,” you pant. Beads of sweat trickle down your face, mingling with tears. Anya offers you the leather strap of her backpack, pressing it to your lips. You take it, letting your teeth sink into the soft, musty fabric. You give Anya a quick nod.

Go on.

There’s a flash of searing pain and your vision goes black.

~*~

You wake to a stabbing sensation deep in your womb and a shrill scream. It takes you several seconds to realize the scream must have come from you. 

Anya is sobbing softly, whispering “shit, shit, shit,” under her breath.

The pain dulls to an angry throb, Anya still working frantically between your legs.

“What–” you begin, trying to sit up. 

“Christ, don’t move,” Anya says, panic in her voice. “Don’t move, I’m almost…there...” You feel her hands shaking against your thighs. Another ripping, tearing sensation, another throbbing ache.

You groan. “Is it...done?”

“It’s out,” she says through gritted teeth, her face shining with tears, “but you were wrong about the fucking dates.”

You swallow hard, mouth dry. There’s an ugly, bloody smell in the air, like seared flesh. 

“You lost your…the curette was too small. It went through…I cauterized…but there’s so much blood… fuck ,” she moans, sitting back. Anya’s cold, clammy fingers are on your throat, feeling for a pulse. “We need to go to medical.”

“No,” you gasp, words slurring. “No…m’fine, just need…rest…”

“You’re going to fucking bleed out!”

“They can’t…know…”

“They’re going to know when you don’t show up to work tomorrow because you’re dead ,” she hisses. “I can’t believe you talked me into this. You knew ,” she accuses. “You knew you were too far along and you let me–”

“Had to,” you whisper. Your eyes won’t stay open. “Rest. Just…need rest.”

You’re unconscious before you can hear Anya’s protests.

~*~

When you wake, the light has been shoved into a corner and covered with a shade, and a pile of bloody rags litters the floor. There’s a thick wad of sheet pressed against your vulva, the worn gray fabric stained a dark red-brown with your blood.

There’s so much blood.

Anya is slumped at your side, fingers clutching your wrist. You attempt to sit up, wincing at the deep, twisting cramp in your abdomen. You swing your feet over the side of the cot and nearly swoon, head settling between your knees in reflex.

You’re weak, but you’re alive. No more pregnancy.

No more pregnancies, a hard little voice in the back of your mind reminds you.

You feel like you’re going to be sick, but every small movement produces a deep, angry tearing sensation in your abdomen. If you vomit, you’ll come apart.

When you can finally raise your head without feeling faint, you open your eyes to the sunset, a ball of wintry red-orange flame sinking into the dead city’s horizon, and you wait with resigned dread for the rest of your life to unfold.

[the-letterbox-archives]

The Hunt is a Dance (Prologue)

this chapter is a letterbox archives original – do not steal, plagiarise, or repost this to other websites. trigger warnings below. author notes at the end.

this chapter of the hunt is a dance contains: visceral descriptions of hunting, eating animals raw, starvation, blood, animal death

There is blood in this forest.

The blood of rabbits and deer leaked into the riverbanks. It poisoned the air with words of truth. The truth that uttered in the darkness, saying that nothing is sacrilegious, but everything is wrong.

A creature in the thicket readied a crossbow. Knives bathed in dirt rested on their hips.

The hunt had begun.

The weakest animals would see their skin flayed and bones turned to dusty marrow. It was a game of stalking. Movement. Action. To control the flow of the hunt is to honour its dance, and that is survival. The one who strikes first will win the day, if only because they live despite it all. Each precise moment dictates who is the hunter, and who is the prey.

As a deer wandered into a clearing, unaware of its surroundings, the creature prepared itself. The deer’s eyes were glossy as it meandered about.

It felt safe.

It was wrong.

Its eyes were focused, its target clear. The creature took aim. As the dance weaved through strands of air, the arrow took flight. It flew as if fate itself determined the path. The Huntress was pleased that day, it seemed.

The arrow crashed onto skin with an unceremonious thud. It was an ugly sound, one signifying a violent victory. Next, two more arrows, faster than comprehension, pierced the animal’s flesh. Blood poured out of every wound, flowing like a thrashing river. Crimson stained the deer’s brown fur. A bleeding muse on a secluded forest canvas. If it could cry, nobody would hear. Nobody save for the hunter, still stagnant in the shadows.

The deer’s eyes betrayed its true, mangled fear. The arrows had embedded themselves into its flesh, digging deeper and deeper until their intention was known. How that animal’s fear silently echoed through the forest, though not a soul came to help.

Exhausted, but frightened to the very end, the deer hit the forest floor. The mirelands were bathed in maroon as it lay there, motionless. The hunter did not have to ready a fourth arrow, yet they did. Waiting for any movement afterwards, they froze with practiced ease. Though the threat of danger was slim to none, that did not mean the hunter could slack. Weighed down by even more fatigue than the animal they slew, the hunter waited still – they waited for quite some time until they believed the coast was clear. When it was, they tentatively removed themselves from the bushes, the safety of a cage spun of flora. Such exposure felt… dangerous.

There was only one thought keeping the hunter on their feet as they approached their prize. Less of a thought, even, more of an instinct. An ambition that could not be denied.

Hunger.

Only the most fortunate were allowed to eat, and only the most capable could find food. The overlap was almost nonexistent, so everyone starved together. The only thing that separated the hunter from that mortal conundrum was the fact that they could escape from time to time, and find food for themselves. They ignored the calls of the nearby villages. The screeching, deafening cry of hunger would always prevail.

Malnourished wails filled their ears, a ringing wholly imagined, but it felt real nonetheless. Crossbow laid bare, they slipped two knives from their holsters.

Then they began to slice. Skin sloughed off easily enough, and with a bit of force, already weakened bones snapped. Fur was abandoned immediately; it peeled off the deer’s lifeless hide. The sound of skin and muscle being torn apart was a subdued cacophony. As the cutting continued, it sounded like ripped fabric. Viscera splattered downwards, filling the ground with red until it looked as if the very world was bleeding. Though the animal had not yet begun to rot, the smell of its flesh would be enough to deter any scavenger, no matter how starved.

As they sliced further, hunger knocked on the sides of their skull, a desperate, violent plea neglected for too long. Their work unfinished, but sufficient, the hunter bit down. With their teeth, their painfully human teeth, they snatched any meat they could find. As soon as they found that, they pulled away. Prising flesh away from bone with a feverish determination.

No. Not determination – starvation.

With the force of a heretic rending a divine heart asunder, the lost creature wrenched meat from meat, bone from bone, until something could be eaten. Such food was in no way fit for a human to eat, but to the hunter, it was a feast beyond compare.

And with their attention solely stolen by that unholy feast, they did not notice something approaching from behind, quieter than a fox’s tail.

first new project! i loved writing this one, can't wait to introduce the rest! hope you enjoyed!

tag list for the hunt is a dance:

@thecomfywriter, @wyked-ao3, @mysticstarlightduck, @thelovelymachinery, @kind-lion

(@cafekitsune border)