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#another cliffhanger
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The radiance of each star.
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agisleepy · 10 months
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Yana on the sidelines watching us suffer through book 7
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comatosebunny09 · 2 years
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Envision this: you’re all prim and pretty, a glimmering doll amid a sea of secondhand toys.
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You are poured into a mermaid evening gown that doesn't do your figure justice. A soft glam look adorns your features. Lips stained a dangerous rouge, hair pinned up in lustrous ringlets—something out of a chic magazine, invoking the envy and intrigue of all those around.
MDNI below the cut!
Your husband's hand is icy and detached between your shoulder blades as he guides you through the throng of partygoers. Most of them are wearing fake smiles, waiting for you to fuck up. Some of them donning looks of pity. The poor, loyal wife of a man so crooked.
You should be used to this by now; judgmental eyes fastened to your every move. As if everyone knows the inner workings of your marriage. Like they can smell the sex wafting off your husband's skin. Your pseudo grin twitches, threatening to give way to a grimace at the recollection.
The fucker couldn't wait to get his dick wet. You'd nearly murdered him for the pink gloss staining his stark white collar when he returned to the penthouse to pick you up, the pungent scent of alcohol trickling off his breath.
Meanwhile, sex is the farthest thing from your mind.
You glance over your shoulder under the guise of greeting more revelers. Can't help how your heart skips a beat at the being swathed in black behind you, following close enough to intervene in case things get dicey. Customary, fiery locks tucked into a neat bun. Shoulders squared. A look so severe on his face as he pointedly avoids your gaze. Regret stirs in the pit of your belly, trickling downward honey-slow.
You can't really blame him for refusing to meet your gaze. Though you've pushed the boundaries of your friendship countless times before while under the influence, you were perfectly sober earlier. You know: when you'd brazenly told Kyojuro to beg like he were a fucking golden retriever.
You can't wipe the image of his astonished expression from your mind no matter how hard you try.
How his grip on your fingers tightened. How his pupils constricted, mouth agape. Your throat grew dryer with each passing moment after he'd asked you to repeat yourself. You played coy, of course. Bolted up from the couch with a nervous laugh, your legs screaming for you to run. 
When you dashed toward the hallway, Kyojuro halted you in your escape with a soft call of your name. Somberness weighed down his tone, his fingers trembling in the space where you once stood. You didn't bother facing him as he told you he just couldn't. Whatever this budding attraction was between the pair of you, it couldn't persist. 
Kyojuro would never disrupt the sanctity of your marriage, no matter how stunning and irresistible he found you. He knew your husband wasn't shit. But Kyojuro owed him his life. Had reminded you of that countless times before. If it meant putting your friendship on hold to stanch his troublesome feelings, so be it. 
Your eyes swelled with tears, yet you shrugged them off, excusing yourself from his overwhelming presence to go change. Ignored his dejected calls for you. Slid down into the fetal position once you were tucked safely in your spacious bathroom, your head in your hands, a heavy sigh pushing past your lips. You wouldn't cry. Goddammit, you couldn't cry. You knew what it was. You were married, for fuck's sake. And Kyojuro had a moral compass that he just couldn't stray from. 
The trip to the dress boutique had never been so awkward. And you'd never rejected your husband's decision to make the irresistible blond your bodyguard more.
You danced. Socialized. Drank champagne. You were a merry, tittering thing. The perfect wife, putting on a circus act for all those around for hours. Sat prettily whilst your husband conversed with a gentleman beside him, your hands clasped in your lap. Business talk that you couldn't bother to keep up with. You were too busy battling your anxiety, trying futilely to banish it to the deepest pits of hell from whence it came.
"Darling," you murmur into his ear amid his conversation, panic seeping into your voice. Your throat tightens, uneasiness creeping into your bones. It feels as if everything is closing in, threatening to crush you. However, you still wear an artificial grin to keep up appearances.
You reach for your husband's bicep. Squeeze it gingerly, a silent plea for attention. Your legs bounce beneath the table, knee bumping into his; a nervous tick of yours. "Darling, can we leave? I don't feel too well." It isn't a lie. The bright lights have become too much. Too many faces dancing in and out of your vision. Too many invasive hands patting your shoulders, voices and music overpowering. Sensory overload. You feel the beginnings of a panic attack trickling in.
Your husband waves you off like he always does, ignoring your plight. "After I finish talking, dear," he counters. You've played your role well enough for him to pique the interest of a few businessmen, so he no longer needs you. At least until the next opportunity to expand his reign across the city comes along. 
You scoff, snatching yourself up from the chair. Don't bother with formalities as you wend your way through the sea of people, a particular set of sunset eyes chasing after you.
Your heels click soundly over the glistening marble floors of the reception hall, your dress catching on your legs. Grandiose columns frame you, a few partygoers sprinkled here and there, peeking out and bearing witness to your ire. You hear Kyojuro behind you, his steps cautious and measured. You've done this before; slinked away from lavish parties for a breath of fresh air. Despite being a socialite, you've never gotten used to the limelight.
You're dumped onto an empty balcony, a wintry breeze serving to ground you, lapping at your flushed skin. The moon casts a spotlight on you as you greedily suck in air, your eyes screwed shut whilst you grip the glacial rail until your knuckles are bone-white. The atmosphere provides a welcomed burn to your lungs. Almost pacifies you until you hear the crunch of footsteps on the ground behind you. Your heart lurches when you feel the heat of his body wade over you, your shoulders tensing at his proximity. You're struggling more than ever to still your palpitating heart, silently wishing that your bodyguard would just fuck off for a moment.
Kyojuro reaches out a sturdy hand to touch your shoulder, branding your skin. "Silly question. But are you alright?" he questions from behind, voice as wispy as the stars spilling across the sky overhead. Of course you're not okay. But you aren't in the greatest head space to deal with him. Your fight-or-flight instincts turn on like a jet engine, and you opt for the latter option. You try to bolt past him, but your dress is restricting. And Kyojuro has the reflexes of a cheetah. He effortlessly catches your arm, twisting you around to face him, ripping a gasp from your quivering lips. Your gaze is downcast on his onyx Oxfords. Can't meet his eyes. Refuse to, for you know that if you do, you will shatter under the weight they carry.
"Let me go!" you command through grit teeth. Try to bolster yourself to sound more intimidating, but your voice is small and shrill. You fight against Kyojuro's powerful grip, your resolve slowly crumbling. Kyojuro does the opposite of what you request. Grasp tightens possessively as he walks you back to an errant column until your spine collides with its cold stone. This time, you look up at him, your brows furrowing incredulously, fire and brimstone simmering in your eyes as he clutches your other arm.
"Would you…would you just stop running from me?" the blond all but hisses, gently shaking you to still your movements. A few tendrils of flaxen hair fall from Kyojuro's bun following your brief scuffle. They frame his tantalizing features, angular jaw clenched. His irises flicker like candlelight, wiry brows creased with irritation. An indescribable sensation surges between you. Something akin to white lightning strikes the vertex of your thighs. Under different circumstances, you would surely throw yourself at him. But right now, you wish to be as far away from the handsome chunk of man-meat as possible.  
"Get the fuck off me," you spit, expelling the last remnants of your energy to fight him off. Kicking, thrashing, snarling. Doing everything you can to free yourself. Your efforts are fruitless, for Kyojuro is much more robust, though he's holding himself back. He pins you in place, allowing you to catch your breath. A few of your own curls waterfall from your bun. Your cheeks flood with molten lava, lips pulled into a grimace. Before you can muster the strength for one more squabble, one more well-placed fuck you…
He's kissing you. 
Rengoku Kyojuro is kissing you. 
Your disciplined bodyguard who swore that he would never defile your marriage for one night of pleasure. The same Kyojuro who would never betray your husband because of all he’s done for him. The same Kyojuro who refuses to sully your name, avidly cups your jaw to tilt your head back for a deeper kiss, robbing you of your breath and all reason. He’s kissing you, leaving no part of your mouth intact. Melds his body to yours in his haste to feel all of you. And despite your earlier efforts to fend him off, you melt into his touch. Match his energy with such vigor, crossing your wrists behind his neck, drawing him ever closer as you spill pitiful moans into his body...
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Chapter 58: Something Even The Newest Model Doesn't Know
So I might have misspoke last entry. 080 is Eko's successor, not the older model. She opens fire on Hiroshi and Eko pushes him out of the way. She prepares to fire again but Kawasumi gets in the way. 080 doesn't want to shoot her but says she will mow her down if she doesn't move. Kawasumi says she doesn't know what Hiroshi's grandfather said but she will not let a student council member get hurt. 080 shrugs and prepares to fire...but Nano flies her out of the way. Nano calls Kawasumi cool as 080 fires at them in the air, missing every shot...until she doesn't, shooting through Nano's wings.
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Nano says she's fine and that she can still fly while 080 prepares the killshot, saying that she can't understand the concept of self-sacrifice (but she can kill on behalf of someone so easily...?). Kawasumi calls her out on her bullshit as she hits her with a dropping elbow, saying she can't be a new model if she can't understand why someone would risk their lives for the person they care most about. Downed, 080 is still confused: why are they resisting? Don't they know she could kill them all? Kawasumi says she wants to protect her most beloved person, Hiroshi. 080 laughs, saying she'll just kill him then, preparing to fire again. In response, Kawasumi turns around and covers Hiroshi with her body, telling him that she'll protect him this time as an explosion overtakes them both.
End of chapter.
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ironwolf11 · 1 year
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Byler Fanfic
The Boy Who Cried Zombie Chapter 1 part 2 rating: General Audience.
Will walks over to El as he begins to make out what is happening. “El?” he asks. “Hey, What's wrong?” he says. His voice soft. “El look it’s okay, We’ll stop him okay? Look at me” El moves her eyes slowly as they're red and burning. Will can tell she's crying by her quivering lips “Hey, it’s okay” he says as he pulls her into a tight hug. “We’ll stop him okay?” he says beginning to tear up “We WILL stop him okay? He repeats, pushing the tears down. “We’ll stop him together okay?” “Okay” she replies in a soft whisper. “We have to catch up to the rest of the family. But we can talk about this later if you want” “okay,” “Thank you Will” “Any time” he says, pulling away from the hug while giving her a reassuring smile. “I think I'll stay out here for a little bit. I need to think.” “Yeah, okay. Take your time.” Will says before turning to Mike. Mike’s still over by el. His lips part as he looks at El. Before clamping shut and tuning to Will. Mike and Will head back up to the cabin meeting Johnathan at the door. “Hey you guys okay?” Jonathan asks as they walk in. Mike and Will look at each other then back at Jonathan. “Yeah we're okay” Mike says. “Good,” Jonathan says. Will walks over and on the couch by Joyce. Johnathan decides to join him not long after. That leaves Mike there standing at the door “Great, we can start getting a plan ready,” Hopper says, interjecting from El’s old room. “What?” Mike says confused. “We just got back and you're already planning on fighting again? El needs to rest.” “ Is Vecna out there resting?” “No, no he’s not. So neither are we. End of discussion!” Hopper says “No! No, not the end of discussion. She just got back! We don’t even have a place to Stay!” Will looks over at Jonathan with a worried look on his face. He tries to get up off the couch. Jonathan stops him by grabbing his wrist before he could even stand up. Jonathan and Will look at each other and he just shakes his head no and says “let them figure it out.” Will nods and sits back down. They're still looking at each other as Mike begins to yell again, Will tears his eyes away from Jonathan and puts them back on to Mike and Hopper arguing. “She needs to rest!” Mike says walking forward to Hopper tapping hopper on the chest. “It’s best if she rests!” Mike says “ No it’s not, Trust me I know what's best for her!” “And right now I know that's best if we don’t fight about her in front of people” Hopper says whispering. “Yeah.” “Yeah, I guess you're right.” Mike says. He calms down a little bit. Jonathan looks at Will “See?” “Yeah.” Will says, staring at the rotted wood beneath his feet. He knew Mike was still upset. But he wasn't going to start another fight. He lifts his head back up to see Mike who begins to walk outside. Hopper follows shortly behind.
part 3 coming soon. Ask me if you want to be tagged in the next part <3
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smokestarrules · 1 year
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eight-episode seasons becoming the norm, shows being cancelled after their first or second season altogether, corporations not spending a single dollar to promote their renewed shows, corporations deciding to renew based on how many people binge it over and over and over again... this is the slow, choking death of media literacy. 
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loveinhawkins · 10 months
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The problem is that a part of Steve knows the spider isn’t real.
But it’s the suggestion of it, right? Cobwebs in his hair, movement just out the corner of his eye; it’s all enough to convince him that there’s something crawling on his skin, to let out a panicked whisper to Nancy, there was a spider. It’s a black widow.
He tries to disregard it as a one-off. It’s an old creepy house. Just got him spooked for a bit, that’s all.
But then… diving into Lover’s Lake. Bats biting into his flesh. Overwhelming dizziness.
Nancy wrapping torn strips of clothing tight around—there’s something crawling, crawling underneath his skin, no, there isn’t, no, there—a bike ride through The Upside Down; one hacking cough, pushing through it, pushing through it—
Swallows it all down. Ignores the sweat, the tackiness around his bandage. Shh. Calm, calm.
Drives the RV. Doesn’t know how he’s even moving, is just grateful—grateful that his mind on autopilot seems to still function.
The War Zone. In and out. Parked. Sun in his eyes. Kids outside.
The feeling comes back. Something. Something under his skin. (In his blood, in all of him—)
“S’there something in my hair?” he asks Eddie, who’s mid-step out of the RV.
Eddie turns back with an air of amusement. “Nope,” he says. “Looks perfectly coiffed to me, man.”
“Can you—can you just check?”
Look closer, something’s wrong, something’s wrong.
“Uh, sure,” Eddie says, bemused. He sits next to Steve and tilts his head before lifting a hand uncertainly. “You want me to, uh?”
“Yeah, thanks. Just… there was a spider on me.”
It’s not what Steve wants to say at all, but there’s a sudden, terrifying disconnect between the thoughts in his head and what actually comes out of his mouth.
“Oh, you don’t like them, huh?”
Eddie’s not even teasing, just sounds understanding; he lifts up a few sections of hair carefully, taking his time. He’s so kind. Steve abruptly wants to cry.
“Yeah, I don’t blame you,” Eddie continues. “I have the same thing with mice. The way they move. Creepy little feet.” He shudders dramatically.
Steve wants to laugh at that. Can’t.
Eddie runs his fingers through Steve’s hair a couple more times, gentle.
You don’t have to, Steve thinks. Make it hurt. Get it out. Did you find it? Please say you found it.
“Good news, you’re officially spider-free, Harrington.”
Eddie claps him on the shoulder, stands up.
Steve doesn’t move.
Eddie pauses again, halfway out the door. “Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah,” Steve says. “Just need some air.”
He goes through the motions of prepping for the fight. Chats with Robin. She talks about a terrible, gnawing feeling, and he wants to scream yes, I know, I know, but he can’t tell her, why can’t he tell her?
Shh. Calm, calm.
Drives the RV. Forest Hills.
He brakes with no warning, sends bottles of alcohol rolling across the floor. He’s mad suddenly that they didn’t smash. He’s so—
Slip away.
Eddie’s trailer. Lets himself in.
Bathroom.
The wound on his stomach pulses. He doubles over the toilet. Throws up.
His skin is crawling.
There, in the back of his mind, a creeping coldness. A thought that is not his own.
I will kill them all. And I will make you watch.
Oh, God. Oh, God, he’s been so stupid.
-
Eddie finds him first.
He picks up one fallen bottle of alcohol before a gut feeling pulls him out of the RV—because Steve Harrington is a good driver, and he’d only brake like that if he had no choice.
“Steve?”
But Steve’s not waiting for them on the porch, he’s not even by the Gate.
Clattering; a strangled cry.
Eddie’s stomach lurches.
He runs towards the noise, opens the bathroom door and is instantly hit by the acrid smell of vomit.
“Steve! Jesus Christ.”
Steve’s pushed up against the cistern. There’s a damp patch all across his stomach, and his chest is heaving.
“Oh my God, Steve, what’s—”
Eddie reaches for him instinctively, and Steve flinches as if he’s been struck.
“No, don’t!”
“Jesus, you’re burning up,” Eddie whispers, drawing his hand back; Steve’s skin is feverishly hot, slick with sweat. He looks around frantically for a cloth, turns on the cold water. “Gotta get you cooled—”
Something slams into him; he’s pinned against the sink, Steve’s hand clamped around his throat.
“No,” Steve repeats. “Don’t.”
“Okay,” Eddie manages. He chokes on a swallow. “S-Steve, you’re—you’re—”
His hand flails, trying to pry Steve’s fingers off.
Steve’s grip loosens ever so slightly. His eyes are wide, bloodshot. Pleading.
“Eddie,” he says through gritted teeth. “You need to hurt me.”
With the last of his strength, Eddie gets his knee up and jabs—it’s barely anything, but it works enough to break Steve’s hold.
Eddie staggers; his back slams against the door. He’s shaking.
Steve stares at him. He’s gripping onto the sink so tightly that Eddie thinks it’s a miracle that it doesn’t crack.
And then there’s a horrible, guttural noise like Steve’s started to choke too, like he’s at war with himself.
Barely audible, he says, “Get… get Nancy.”
Eddie runs.
He nearly falls into Nancy as he opens the front door. He’s breathless, can’t think of what to say, save from—
“Wheeler, he needs you.”
It happens in an instant: Nancy’s brow pinches, and then she goes very pale, and she’s shouting for Robin and Dustin to stay in the RV, like she can turn on a dime, launched into an unknown crisis.
She pushes past Eddie, and he follows her, back into the bathroom.
The cold water is still running.
Steve’s got his hands in the sink. He looks at Nancy desperately.
“S-stop me.”
Another choking sound is ripped from Steve’s throat; Eddie realises that it’s actually a dry sob.
“Nance,” Steve says. It’s half her name, half a pained whine. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I—I know everything.”
And then he’s suddenly launching towards them—it’s only the fact that he’s so completely freaked out that makes Eddie move in time, saves him from getting strangled again.
He grabs Steve’s wet hands, pins them behind his back and tries to hold him still.
“Jesus! Wheeler, what the fuck is going—”
“Do you have anything that can knock him out?” Nancy says.
“What?”
“Drugs, Eddie!”
“Are you crazy? There’s no way—oh my God, what are you—”
Crack.
Nancy’s grabbed the cistern lid, brought it down upon Steve’s head. Eddie looks at Steve lying eerily still on the floor in abject horror.
There’s blood in his hair.
Eddie feels sick.
But Nancy just watches, as if to confirm that Steve’s not moving. She looks Eddie in the eye.
“Come on. That’s only gonna work for so long.”
Eddie just follows her out, too shocked to even attempt speaking.
It’s chaotic at the RV; Dustin sees them coming, leaps out of the door as Robin yells at him.
“Where’s Steve?”
“Get back inside.”
“Nancy, where the hell is he?”
“We can talk inside.”
“Bullshit, I’m—”
“Dustin, he’s Flayed,” Nancy says, her voice breaking, and all the fight goes out of Dustin at once.
“No, that’s—he can’t—”
Eddie finally finds his voice. “Can someone tell me what the fuck you’re talking about?”
Nancy doesn’t speak, not until they’re in the RV, the door locked behind her.
“I think it’s the—the bites—”
Robin swears, a hand over her mouth.
“Flayed?” Eddie persists.
“The Mind Flayer,” Dustin says numbly. “It’s what we—it’s a part of The Upside Down. It—it used Will to… to spy on…”
“And what, it’s—” Eddie swallows. “It’s inside him?”
“Like a virus. He’s part of the Hive Mind,” Nancy says.
Eddie’s knees feel weak.
“Fuck,” Dustin says. “He knows where we are, he’ll know—”
“It’s too late to change that,” Nancy says. “We just have to—at least someone needs to stay with him.”
“I will,” Robin says instantly, eyes blazing.
“Me too,” Dustin says.
Nancy glances at him, shakes her head—firm but apologetic. “You can join Erica.” And as Dustin opens his mouth, no doubt to argue, she adds, “I’m sorry, Dustin. It’s just—we might need to… to fight him.”
Dustin doesn’t reply, but looks so utterly devastated that Eddie wishes he’d insisted on diving first, that the bats had torn into him instead.
“Keep him warm,” Nancy tells Robin urgently. “And I don’t mean just—it’s got to be unbearable.”
Robin nods, ashen-faced.
Nancy catches Eddie’s eye. “The one thing that fucker can’t stand is heat.”
She paces up and down the RV, checking for stray bottles. Then she comes to a stop right in front of Robin.
“He—he might beg,” she whispers. “And it won’t—it’ll sound like him. Like he just wants the pain to stop.”
Robin’s eyes look glassy. “Nance, I don’t—don’t know if I can—”
“I’ll do it,” Eddie says.
He feels everyone’s eyes on him, but he just looks at Nancy, at the determined set to her jaw.
He doesn’t know when he made the decision, if he can even pinpoint a conscious moment of thought—but now that the words are out, he feels the vow he’s made, deep in his chest.
Nancy hands him a bottle and cloth.
A lighter.
She fixes Eddie with a piercing look. “It’s going to look like you’re killing him,” she says.
Eddie nods.
He turns, offers Robin his hand.
“C’mon, Buckley. Let’s get that bastard out of him.”
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24bughours · 7 months
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I need these last two episodes to hurt
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AND THE WAY THAT HALF OF EPISODE 8 WAS JUST NICE PETRIGROF MOMENTS I WAS ABT TO CRY IM SO EXCITED FOR EPISODE 9
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reds-skull · 4 months
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Anatomy is one of the biggest thing I need to work on, so why not do it while drawing these two fuckers.
Tried to focus just on the sketch/lineart, so no shading on this one...
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egophiliac · 1 year
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Are you excited for Malleus to read us all his Fanfiction?
Malleus making a perfect dreamworld for all of us to live in like
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rintoki · 8 months
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when you sleep at night
characters: kafka x dom!reader
tw: somnophilia, dubcon, nothing too crazy actually relax
a/n: i guess this can be considered a second part to my first kafka smut, its like the exact same setting and dynamic.
MINORS DNI
the door opens easily as kafka steps into the entrance way, slipping out of her heeled boots and quietly making her way through the dark living room. all the lights in the house was out and it was eerily silent, through the dim lighting kafka strains her eyes to check the clock hanging on your wall.
11:37pm
you couldn’t possibly be sleeping this early yet. but, alas, you proved to be unpredictable to her once again as she turns the knob to your bedroom, pushing it open to reveal your sleeping form on the bed. her feet padded softly on the floor; taking slow, deliberate steps closer to the bed that you laid on.
kafka clicked her tongue, a tinge of annoyance blossoming in her chest when she sees that you were indeed fast asleep and not just pretending to mess with her. not that you were the type to do that anyway. she felt her finger twitch unconsciously, standing foolishly by your bed as she is once again reminded of how little you cared for her. despite her now regular visits to your residence, you never once welcomed her, nor have you ever made any type of accommodations towards her.
the woman breathes deeply, your familiar scent permeates the room and her body is quick to react to it. reminded of all the late nights spent together, how warm your body felt next to hers, and how good you made her feel. kafka shuts her eyes for a moment, deciding on what to do now. part of her knows that the right thing to do is to leave and come back another time, preferably informing you beforehand like you had asked of her.
but instead she remains in her spot; unmoving as she watches the steady rise and fall of your chest, your soft breasts hidden underneath the thin material of your pyjamas, and how easy it would be to simply unbutton it right now. kafka finds herself getting lost in her thoughts, eyes raking over your body as she thinks about everything she could do to you now. but more than anything, her purple eyes finally land on your hands; the same hands that brought her orgasm after orgasm. the very ones that hugged and caressed her body, how she wanted to feel them again.
and as if in a trance, kafka pushes her jacket off her shoulders, letting the expensive coat fall to the floor without a care. normally unheard of with how much she loves her coats, but now there’s no one here to see that. and there’s no one to witness as she peels off the layers of her clothing, her belly tightening with every passing second and soon the woman stood in nothing but her panties.
kafka crawls gingerly onto the bed, careful to not wake you as she eyes your hand resting by your side. she tests the waters, nimble fingers wrapping around your wrist and pulling it away from your body. when you show no reaction does the excitement bubble up within her, her pussy already beginning to ache with need
inch by inch, she shuffles closer. until your relaxed fingers lay just underneath her clothed pussy, a wet spot now forming on her panties. kafka’s breathes deeply, trying to keep it even as she lowers herself onto your hand, feeling your fingers fold naturally under her weight.
a shaky breath escapes her at the feeling, slowly moving her hips back and forth on your curled fingers, not caring how awkward the position was. kafka watches your sleeping form carefully, but you showed no signs of waking up, still blissfully unaware and deeply asleep.
a small part of her was annoyed—that you didn’t wake up and catch her in the act, that she won’t get to see your reaction. but the larger part of her is now pushing off her panties, letting her bare pussy rub against the palm of your hand. it was warm, and the ridges brushed perfectly against her swollen clit. kafka shudders, her breathing turns heavy as she continues the slow rutting of her hips, allowing herself to enjoy the sensations until your hand was sufficiently lubricated from how much she leaked.
and with shaky hands, she positioned your fingers upright, aligning it with her hole before sinking down upon them. kafka nearly whines, biting back any sounds as your fingers penetrates her tight walls. she grips your wrist, holding them in place as the woman lifts her hips once again, this time pushing your fingers into her pussy. again and again, your fingers sunk deep into her warmth and kafka pants quietly. her mind was feeling dizzy from the entire situation, the fact that you weren’t even conscious now and yet you still managed to reduce her to this state. how even just your fingers was enough for her pussy to twitch and push back so desperately against your hand.
she squeezes her eyes shut, her head hung low and nearing the verge of her orgasm as she angles your wrist so that the tips of your fingers brushed against her spot. the sensitive patch of nerves singing in response as it felt like shocks ran through her body. kafka gasps loudly, unable to hold back her moans now as it almost felt like your hand was moving by itself. too far gone to put the pieces together even when your fingers begin to curl and thrust inside her, or when your thumb has suddenly begin to press against her clit at the same time.
her mouth hung open, panting breathlessly as her body felt like it was on fire. her hand wrapped helplessly around your wrist even as it moved by itself and her back arched, muscles flexing and her thighs trembled terribly. kafka was right on the edge, just a little more… just one more stroke, just one more thrust…
“agh…! fu—fuck, wha…!”
the woman felt every sensation in her body stop cold. before she’d knew it your hand was already ripped from her body, and her orgasm had come to a screeching halt. kafka nearly chokes, scrambling to her senses as she finally raises her head to face you.
from her flushed expression to her bare body, your cold eyes finally landed on your soaked fingers, covered in her wetness after having used it for her own pleasure. kafka watches with wide eyes; somewhere in her mind she understood that you had probably been awake for a while now, that you’d probably purposely fucked with her. brought her to the brink of an orgasm before ruthlessly ripping it away from her.
her heart pounds in her chest, an unfamiliar feeling as she waits for your next move, your next words. what will you with her now? she’s not that shameless to ask you to make her cum again after begin caught like that, but for whatever reason she could feel her pussy tightening again, waiting with anticipation of what you might do to her now.
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celestialrealms · 1 year
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some of us are suffering barbussy drought and they dont even care smh
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cookierunauprompts · 3 months
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Can you please do a continuation of req 8 (the masquerade ball on) pleas I really loved it
absolutely, that's one of my favorite reqs that i've ever written. you do not understand how much i love masquerades hehehe
Requested Prompts #40 - 💓
You steadily picked yourself up from the ground, what had happened? The last thing you remember you were at the ball and then... nothing. You couldn't even remember who you were dancing with, if you were even dancing at all. You take a look around, taking in your surroundings... or rather, the lack thereof. You were surrounded by an inky black abyss that stained your vision black yet still allowed you to see, you could tell that it did that because you could see yourself almost perfectly. " Hello?" You call into the abyss, not expecting an answer even though that's what you want. " Is anyone there?" There was a pause, an almost infinitely long pause. For a moment you worried that you were stuck here, in the void, alone. You'd surely go insane if that were the case, but luckily( or perhaps, unluckily depending on how you view it) that wasn't the case. The ground trembled, and you stumbled back just in time to see a quite frankly way too large eye open up where you had been standing. It glowed a bright blue, reminding you of something you just couldn't put your finger on. And slowly but surely, it rotated to look at you. More eyes popped up, each staring at you when they opened. You receded into yourself, backing away even though it seemed that no matter how far you went they always seemed to get closer. You trip over your own feet and soon find yourself falling backwards, with fear clutching you for a mere moment before you are caught. " Now now, Little Star, we can't have you falling over now, can we?" A voice tutted with a chuckle, a rather familiar voice actually... You looked around for the source of the voice, and for who caught you, but you couldn't find anything other than the fact you were caught by a large, shadowy hand. You squeaked with surprise as you saw it's fingers curl around your form. " Y-you... Just who are you?" You called out into the darkness, your response beginning with a maniacal laugh. " Oh what a shame it is that you don't even recognize me... I'm rather hurt, Little Star." The voice cooed, and that's when it hit you. This voice belongs to that cookie at the masquerade ball... and the one that appeared in your dreams, the one you made that deal with... Oh sweet witches, just what did you get yourself into? " Show yourself!" You commanded, yet you were unable to hide the treble of fear that wormed its way into your tone. " Ehehe... Eheheha... Ehe he ha ha hah!" The voice cackled, you could feel the two largest eyes, the ones that looked like they actually belonged to a face, peering down at you. " Oho? So the princess wants me to reveal myself? I might as well indulge the wishes of her highness then~!" The voice chirped.
You stared on in a mixture of fear and awe as the Shadows receded to reveal the large figure of the cookie before you, bearing the same silhouette as the jester that appeared in your dream, only colored in. His heterochromatic blue eyes stared down at you as a grin stretched to be far too wide across his face. " Why hello there little princess! I'm so terribly sorry to have kept you waiting, but now we can finally meet face to face! Or well, face to real face." The jester chuckled, you couldn't help but feel like you've heard about this... well, this jester before. The cogs in your brain turn and turn, where have you heard about a Jester who could manipulate the Shadows to do his bidding? Ah, that's right, from your father. This was one of the five beasts, the fallen heroes. Shadow Milk Cookie. You fucked up big time just by making a deal with him in the first place, and you could tell that he could tell based just on your expression that you'd come to this realization. " Aw, there's no need to look so concerned! I do intend to keep my end of our little deal." You leaned away from him. " Considering your track record for deceiving cookies... I doubt it." You say, glancing up at him suspiciously. The gargantuan jester sighed dramatically. " You really don't remember out contract, do you?" He asked, to which you responded to with a shake of your head. " Fine, fine, I'll explain it again from the top." Shadow Milk Cookie cleared his throat, beginning to speak. " The very notion of our deal was that you would give me what you desired most in exchange for what you valued most, yes? What you wanted the most was freedom... Yet 'Freedom' is also what you value the most. So you put me into a bit of a conundrum as to how to collect what you valued while also giving you the freedom you ever so desperately desired." You gulped, you had a rather concerning feeling about this. You felt like you had acted selfishly in the past, far too selfish. " So then I had a thought!" The jester chirped, not helping the sinking feeling in your gut in the slightest. " What if I exchanged the freedom of your kingdom in exchange for yours? It was a truly marvelous idea if I do say so myself!" And there it was.
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anukkuna · 5 months
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About those cliffhangers...
Cliffhangers, das fleißige Lieschen bis Kälte der Erde:
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Spatort-Fandom vor "Der Fluch des Geldes":
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... was wird. :')
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romulusfuckingroy · 3 months
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can y’all shut the fuck up about our flag means death and start asking them to bring back AVENUE 5 a show with MULTIPLE women and men of color including TWO Black women main characters and MULTIPLE canon bisexuals and gays
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you want a failmarriage? THESE GUYS BROKE UP AND ARE NOW STUCK WITH EACH OTHER FOR THE FORESEEABLE FUTURE
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you want an autistic nihilist that makes everyone uncomfortable? WE GOT ZACH FUCKING WOODS
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you want a girlboss? THIS WOMANS NAME IS KAREN AND SHES A LITERAL NIGHTMARE
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oh but you want a REAL girlboss? IRIS RUNS FUCKING EVERYTHING AND HATES FUCKING EVERYONE
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you want canon polyamory? HOUSE MD IS MARRIED TO BOTH A WOMAN AND A MAN
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woman engineers? we got that
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elon musk allegory? we got that
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like I’m so deadass serious I need this show back so bad
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mockingspider · 4 months
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since the spiderverse fandom is dying out, i have a confession to make
i thought gwen and miles were already dating until i saw the clocktower scene and was like "wait.. they're just friend?"
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